The Night Before(53)

Rosie clutched her phone so tightly, her fingertips were turning white. She did her best to soften her voice.

“What can you tell us about him? Anything at all.”

The woman let out one quick burst of laughter. “Where do I even begin?” she said, her voice laden with disgust. “You saw his profile, right? Said he was divorced. Said he made over $150k. Said he had no kids and worked in finance. Look—a lot of guys make shit up. They lie about everything from their weight to their height, and especially their income. Sometimes they say they’re divorced when they’re really just separated. I think they have secret meetings, these douchebags—to give and get advice on how to avoid being excluded from search lists. Seriously, I can hear them.… Don’t say you’re not divorced yet! You’ll never get laid that way! Makes me want to throw up.”

Gabe rolled his eyes and Rosie knew what he was thinking. She was thinking the same thing. Kimmie was one bitter veteran of online dating.

“It’s horrible,” Rosie said. “Don’t they know that if they keep seeing a woman, she’ll find out they were lying from the start?”

Kimmie laughed again. “They don’t give a shit! Are you kidding me? Three dates. A fuck. And they’re out of there. On to the next. It’s an online free-sex buffet, that’s what it is. But this one—he knows how to find just what he wants.”

“So what exactly does he do? Maybe it will help us find our friend,” Gabe said.

“Well, he lies on the profile. That’s the first thing. Lies about his name. Lies about being divorced…”

“Wait—what do you mean?” Rosie asked.

“I mean he’s married! Married with two kids in middle school. Living in Mamaroneck. Working as a salesman for energy-efficient windows. Can you imagine? Goes door to door performing ‘energy assessments’ for the electric company, but then he tries to sell people new windows for his company. It’s all a scam, just like he is. Finds a way in the door and then fucks people.”

“How did you find all of this out?” Gabe asked.

“It took me some time, but things weren’t adding up about him. The car he was driving. How cheap he was when we went out. He didn’t seem sophisticated enough for finance, you know? He seemed blue-collar to me. And eventually he let his guard down, left the room without his wallet. So I looked. It was that simple. I flipped it open and there it was—his real name and address. I went home and Googled him and whoosh—a tidal wave of bullshit came pouring out.…”

Rosie got the picture, but she needed to connect the dots back to Laura. “How did it start? How did he contact you, where did you meet…?”

“Seemed benign at first,” Kimmie said. “He calls to make sure you sound okay—no annoying accents or speech impediments. He asks if your pictures are current, but he does it in a subtle way. He asks about where you were when they were taken and then asks follow-up questions. One of mine was at my niece’s graduation, so he asked where she was in college and what year was she in now. Things like that. I knew what he was doing, but I’m sure he thought he was being very slick.

“Anyway—when he meets, it’s always during the week. And to his credit, he doesn’t make up excuses about it. Instead he makes you wonder if he’s got other women he’s dating on the weekends—better women who are worthy of a Saturday night. It makes you want to be better, move up the ranks. It’s human nature, you know. To compete. And for women, that means being sexier, smarter, better in bed. He knows it. He wants his women to be at the top of their games.”

Rosie closed her eyes then and thought about Laura. She would fall right into that trap, and she wouldn’t even know she was doing it.

I will make you see me. I will make you love me.

That face from the picture when she was a little girl. The image of her with that doctor, climbing Mount Everest …

“Where did he take you?” Gabe asked.

“First date—Thursday night, of course—was at that place by the harbor. The bar on the corner with the shitty food.”

Gabe nodded at Rosie when she finally opened her eyes again. They had the same guy. There was no doubt now.

“The next date was on Main Street. More upscale. He got me dinner that time.”

“Just like Sylvia Emmett!” Rosie said to Gabe, muting the phone. “The woman from the bar—first planned date at the harbor, last date on Main Street—dinner.”

Gabe nodded silently, then looked back to the phone.

“He lives near there. Did you know that?” Kimmie asked.

Rosie released the mute button. “Another woman he dated said that as well. But she didn’t know the address because she wouldn’t go to his apartment.”

“Well, she was smarter than I was.”

“Wait—you went there? You know where he lives?” Gabe said. He reached for his phone, eyes growing wider. “What’s the address?”

“Oh Christ, let me think.… It’s in those apartments on Maple Street. There are a few buildings. His was one of the ones in the middle. Had underground parking.”

“They all have underground parking. All of those buildings. There must be half a dozen.” Gabe was growing impatient. “What about an apartment number or a floor? Anything at all—was there a doorman or a keypad?”