A Necessary Evil(11)
Lonnie parked the cruiser in front of Building B, and the duo climbed out, wrapped their coats tighter around themselves, and started for the entrance. Of course, Lonnie bounded up the steps like a gazelle hopping across the wild plains of Africa, while Kurt had to take them slowly, gripping the railing as he ascended the concrete steps one at a time. Lonnie waited for Kurt on the third-floor landing, which only served to embarrass Kurt further as he sluggishly climbed toward his partner.
When he reached the top, he bent forward with his hands on his knees, trying to steady his breathing. But the cold November air bit into his lungs, and he cursed himself for smoking that stupid cigarette on the ride over. He looked up at Lonnie, who had an I-told-you-so expression on his face.
“Don’t say it,” Kurt wheezed. He shot Lonnie a deadly glance, warning him to keep his mouth shut.
Lonnie raised his hands defensively. “All right. I won’t say it. Can I knock now?”
Kurt stood straight, drew in one more deep breath just for good measure, and let it out. White vapor floated from his mouth and danced around in front of his face, serving as yet another reminder that he needed to quit. “Go ahead. I’m fine.”
A smiling Lonnie turned and knocked forcefully on the door. “Police. Open up.”
Kurt heard the lock rattled from the inside. The door opened about two inches, and the partial profile of a young female appeared in the crack between the door and the jamb. “Show me your badge,” said an unsure feminine voice.
Lonnie rolled his eyes, but produced his badge anyway and held it up for the girl to see. The door shut abruptly, and just when Kurt thought she was going to ignore them, he heard the mechanisms of the lock disengage and, seconds later, the door opened all the way. Standing there with one arm holding the door open was a beautiful young lady of about twenty-one, Kurt guessed. Her dark hair was piled into a messy bun high on top of her head, and she was clearly not wearing any makeup. But it didn’t matter. Even in sweats, the girl was strikingly beautiful. Her light brown eyes were wide with wonder as she stared at Lonnie and Kurt before dropping her hand to her hip and motioning silently for them to step inside.
“You’re here about Mollie.” It was a statement, not a question. She gestured toward the beige couch in the living room. “Please, have a seat. Sorry for the mess.”
There were clothes strewn about the couch and matching loveseat, and some leftovers sat on the coffee table, but Kurt didn’t think the apartment was dirty. In fact, it looked like Laurel had gone to great lengths to decorate her little home away from home. The apartment even smelled like a pina colada. Kurt’s detective eyes scanned the apartment but saw nothing to raise any alarms, not that he’d expected to find anything helpful. This meeting with the victim’s best friend was a formality, someone to cross off of the “must be interviewed” list.
Kurt turned his attention back to the pretty young girl.
“Yes,” he said. “We’re here to talk about Mollie. Is there anything you could tell us that might help us find her?”
Laurel shook her head, and her hair bun flopped from side to side. She reached up and tightened it with a quick tug then let her hands fall to her lap. “No. I have no idea. I wish I could help, but all I know is Kitty called me in a panic saying Mollie never came home after work last night. After that, I called her, like, a million times, but my calls all went straight to voicemail, which totally freaked me out because, like, doesn’t that mean her phone’s dead or something?”
Kurt pulled out his little notebook and jotted this bit of information down. It might not mean anything, but he wasn’t about to discount any clues which might lead them to Mollie.
“That’s very helpful,” Lonnie said. “In fact, they’re working on pinpointing her cell location back at the station as we speak.”
It was true. Kurt had personally put in the call to the forensics techs before they left the precinct earlier that evening. Frankie had provided Mollie’s cell phone number in hopes that Kurt could instantly ping her location. But Kurt had explained that though they no longer needed a warrant to triangulate the cell phone’s location, their new tracking software, aptly named Wolfhound, took a couple of hours to work its magic. Kurt expected to hear from the techs any minute now.
“Her grandfather mentioned a young boy who might have been bothering her at work,” Kurt offered.
“Oh, that,” Laurel said with a roll of her eyes. “Yeah, she mentioned something about some pathetic dork leaving her notes in her locker. What a loser.”
“Did she happen to mention his name?” Lonnie leaned forward with his forearms on his knees.
“No,” Laurel said after giving it a moment’s thought. “She never said. Sorry.”
“You’re doing fine, Laurel,” Kurt said when he saw tears forming in the young girl’s eyes.
Her hands flew to her face, and she sobbed into them, her shoulders heaving. “I’m just so worried about her.”
“Is there any chance Mollie could have run away? Any troubles at home?” Kurt was grasping at straws, but he needed to rule out the possibility.
“No freaking way.” Laurel dropped her hands to the arms of the chair. “You don’t know Mollie, but I do, and I can tell you there’s no way she would leave her mother all alone like this. Mollie is, like, my best friend, and I know she loves me too. But she and Kitty are closer than any other mother and daughter I know. God knows I’ve been jealous of their relationship a few times. So, no. She definitely didn’t run away. Besides…Mollie’s a very happy girl. I mean, yeah, she’s had some shitty things happen to her over the years. But now she has her mother, her job, her new car…she has absolutely no reason to drop everything and take off like that.”