Page 10 of Identify
Mack
Reed steps outsideto make a call and I continue talking to Paula’s mother, Mrs. Nelson. It’s clear by her lack of response that she doesn’t want to talk to us, or else she really knows nothing. I’m hoping to get more out of her daughter when she finally makes an appearance.
I glance outside to see if I can gauge how much longer Reed will be. Something’s going on in pretty boy’s mind because he’s pacing back and forth along the front walk. His shiny black dress shoes glinting in the sun while his tie blows to the side of his chest from the slight breeze in the air.
I can see why ladies sometimes feel more comfortable talking to him, especially in abduction or sex related cases. He’s a clean cut, lean muscled, suit-wearing, book-smart, too pretty for his own good, poster boy for the FBI. His fingernails are never dirty underneath and his hair never needs a trim.
I’m about as opposite from that as you can get.
So, when it’s a choice between the two of us, he’s the one they gravitate toward. He’s got the softer voice and better rapport. But just so we’re clear, I’m the better shot. And in the face of danger, it’s me they hide behind.
I try to catch his eye as he comes back in the house. “Sorry about that,” he says, avoiding my gaze and directing his comment to Mrs. Nelson. He holds his tie to his stomach as he sits. Paula chooses that time to come downstairs.
“Mom?” she asks about Reed’s and my presence as she reaches the bottom of the stairwell, dressed in sweatpants and a loose T-shirt, her long hair still wet from her shower.
“Paula, these gentlemen are from the FBI and want to ask you a few questions about your abduction. I haven’t told them anything.”
Paula frowns at her. “Well, you could have. You know everything that happened.”
“It’s not my story to tell,” Mrs. Nelson replies.
Paula takes a seat on the couch next to her mom. “I already told the police everything that happened.”
“Sometimes it helps to go over it again, little things can come back to you after time. Things you may not even realize you’d forgotten.” Reed smiles warmly as he talks to her and she visibly relaxes into the cushions of the couch.
“Well, it was like I told the police before, I met this guy for drinks—”
“How did you meet him?” Reed interrupts.
“On that app, Honey Pot, it’s a real dating app, not one of those hookup sites just for sex.”
Reed nods and makes some notes in his little pad of paper he always carries with him. “And what name did he go by on the app?”
“Jacob.”
“Any last name?”
“They don’t list last names for privacy reasons.” She blushes slightly.
“When you met in person, you called him Jacob and he answered to that name?” I confirm.
She nods. “And I saw his credit card when he paid for drinks. It said Jacob, I’m fairly sure.”
That he paid by credit card is new information to me. I make a mental note to track down the slip and any other information we may glean from that. Reed makes a notation in his notebook, I’m sure with a similar thought.
“What happened next?” Reed asks.
“The date was going really well,” Paula continues. “We decided to go somewhere else for dinner. He offered to drive, which I saw nothing wrong with, so I left my car at the bar. He said he knew of a restaurant just down the way. It all seemed normal and fine.”
“What do you mean by normal?” I ask her.
“He didn’t seem like a creepy kidnapper—no windowless white van—he wasn’t wearing high water pants and short-sleeved button down with a skinny tie under a Member’s Only jacket.”
I laugh at her stereotypical description of a creepy kidnapper which sounds more like a child molester, but I keep that thought to myself.
“We’d been driving for a few minutes,” she continues, “when he stopped at an intersection, turned to me, and saidhere, let me fix that for you, but I didn’t know what he was referring to. Next thing I remember is waking up in that room with all those other women. They were all tied up, it was awful.” She shudders visibly.
“And you said you thought someone drugged the other women? Do you know what kind of drug? Did you see anything on the ground, anything that might identify what they took?” Reed asks.
