Forgive Me(32)

CHAPTER 16



Angie arrived at Mike’s apartment in Falls Church at quarter to eight in the evening. She pulled up in her seven-year-old Ford Taurus, which was kind of like a cop car and a good-sized vehicle for doing those dicey transport jobs. It was also affordable. Like Mike Webb, Angie cobbled together her income. If she graphed her earnings over the years, it would look a lot like the S&P 500—plenty of peaks and valleys, but a positive trajectory over the long haul. She added to her 401k diligently, but was still a few twigs shy of having something that resembled a nest egg. Everything had a cost, and she refused to think of her father as a safety net.

She skimped on life insurance and long-term disability, figuring she had no dependents to look after. The idea of having a kid or two continued to tug at her, and driving a car with so much back seat room felt a little lonely at times. On occasion, she would glance in the rearview mirror and imagine car seats, with scattered Cheerios mixed in with plastic toys.

Having a kid didn’t require a man, just his sperm. A few years back, she had contemplated artificial insemination then her business had picked up, and she had something other than learning how to cook clean eats to add to the list of aspirations she wasn’t fully equipped to tackle.

The only constant in Angie’s life was getting older. In a spare moment, she had researched freezing her eggs—just out of curiosity, just to know. The price tag was a real eye opener. It was ten grand to harvest them, five hundred a year for storage, and another five grand for IVF. Wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t all about the money, but that was a big factor. The back seat of her Taurus would transport sullen, rage-filled teens instead of toddlers for the foreseeable future, maybe forever.

Five minutes after Angie had texted him that she had arrived, Mike Webb, wearing a light jacket, tan Dockers, and a patterned Oxford shirt, came strolling out of his apartment wheeling his carry-on luggage behind him. He went to the back of her car and tapped on the trunk to get her to pop it open. He stashed the luggage, settled into the front seat, and buckled in.

“Mike, we’re only going to be gone twenty-four hours. What’s up with the suitcase?”

“You always keep a suitcase of clothes in the back of the car.”

“Yeah, but that’s because I may need to tail somebody for a few days and I’d look conspicuous in the same outfit. This trip is just a drive, a meeting. It’s probably nothing.”

Mike laughed. “Ange, I’ve worked for you long enough to know that it’s never just nothing.”





Angie told Mike about the photograph and what Bao had found out. She showed him the picture and made sure he looked at the message and the strange code written on the back. “Any thoughts on what it could mean?”

“I’m not really into cryptography. That’s more a Bao thing. I could get this aged for you at NCMEC.”

“Yeah, I was going to do that.”

“I’ll take care of it for you. Send me a copy. What’s up with that ear of hers? It looks like a birth defect to me.”

“Maybe she was injured.”

Mike turned the picture sideways to study the part of the girl’s anatomy more closely. “It’s kinda freaky.”

“Tell me about it,” Angie said.”

“What about you? Is there anybody you’d want to ask for forgiveness?”

“Yeah, Carolyn Jessup if we can’t find her daughter.”

Thanks to the light traffic and the late hour, they made the drive from Falls Church to DC in just under thirty minutes. Potomac, Maryland to DC wasn’t too far a ride. Just under fourteen miles; thirty to forty minutes via the Clara Barton Parkway if the traffic cooperated. A bus line ran from the suburb to the metro area, and chances were that’s how Nadine left. She hadn’t traveled far from home—not so unusual. Didn’t make it any less dangerous. Predators could be found in any city.

She could have picked up a Metro bus at the Montgomery Mall. It was about a four-mile walk from Potomac to the mall, a doable distance even if someone wasn’t determined.

“Can you contact Metro and see about getting surveillance footage?” Angie asked. “I’m sure they still have it archived. Wasn’t that long ago, and we know the date and relative time she would have taken off.”

“You realize that Nadine could have gone to Union Station to take a train somewhere else. You know—Philly, New York, Boston, the places she searched.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So tell me again why we’re here twelve hours before Sean Musgrave reports for mall security duty?”

“We’re going to canvas the bus and Metro stations.”

“They don’t open until morning.”

“Then we’re going to check some of the less savory neighborhoods.”

Mike groaned. “Oh great. That’s why you wanted to come so early.”

“She might be here.”

“Or she might be in Philly, like I said.”

Angie ignored him. “We’ll cruise down Fourteenth Street near the old red light district. Not optimistic though.”

“What about the hotels along New York Avenue?” Mike suggested. “Then check out the fringe areas around Catholic and Gallaudet.”

“Good call,” Angie said. “While we’re at it, let’s roll by Adams Morgan, too. Maybe stake out the Cambria Hotel, The Donovan at Thomas Circle, swing by some of the clubs.”