Two Girls Down(43)

Jamie pressed her hand to her forehead, as if she were applying a compress.

“No, I can’t think of anyone,” she said. “Fuck, why can’t I think of anyone?”

“It might not be an obvious person. We’ll check everyone in the school, every class, teachers.”

“The police are following their leads too.”

“You think this WT had something to do with it?” said Jamie.

“It’s an idea. She wrote some notes about him in the diary too.”

Vega scrolled so Jamie could see the initials.

“Shit,” she said. “Who the fuck is he?”

Cap’s phone buzzed, and he handed the umbrella to Vega and stepped away. He saw Em’s name come up, and he picked up.

“Em.”

“Hey, Cap, can you meet?” said Em under his breath.

“Yeah, when?”

“Fifteen minutes, the luncheonette?”

“Yeah. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Got something for you.”

Cap heard something different in his voice. When Em had first started at the department, he’d been all cocky frat boy, maybe a little too enthusiastic when pinning and cuffing a suspect, calling the rest of the guys bitches when they went home early from drinking after a second shift. If they needed someone to sit on an amped-up PCP freak, they’d send Em, who didn’t care if he got black eyes and chipped teeth before holidays. Then he got his girlfriend pregnant. Then she was his wife and she got pregnant again, the second time with twins. Then Em was tamed because it was simple, Cap knew, because he had the fear, because he had three kids and a wife and a whole life he could fuck up.

But just now he heard it—the old Em, the one who made a prank call to Junior and pretended to be a hooker.

“Oh yeah?” said Cap, smiling into the phone. “Can I have a hint?”

“It’s bigger than a breadbox.”

“Great. See you soon.”



Cap hung up and looked back to the women. Jamie stared at the image of her daughter’s phantom handwriting on the phone; Vega met Cap’s eyes and saw something there. She sniffed, a fox sniffing out a jackrabbit.

—

Vega ran a napkin over a smear of ketchup left on the table by the previous customer. She sat next to Cap in a booth, and Wiley Emerson was opposite them, breathing heavily and perspiring. Rain streaked up the window next to them.

“Here you go,” said Em, sliding a white envelope across the table toward Cap.

Vega placed her palm gently on top of it, intercepting it, and picked it up, opened the flap. Cap raised his hands in surrender. All you.

“I didn’t include the ones that didn’t see anything, or from the Kmart or anything. These are just the people from the parking lot.”

“Three,” said Vega.

“That’s it. It was a slow day over there, I guess.”

“Are they consistent?” asked Cap.

“More or less. One of the witnesses is an eighty-something man; some of his stuff doesn’t make sense, but there’s a type there. You’ll see it—Caucasian male teenager, baseball hat and sweatshirt.”

“Car?” said Vega.

“Tan, white, beige compact.”

“Three witnesses, three colors,” she said.

“Yeah, no one saw plates.”

“No one ever sees plates,” said Cap.

“So they couldn’t see his face,” said Vega. “Because of the hat.”

“None of them got a good look, no.”

“Who took the statements?” said Cap.

“Ralz and Harrison.”

“The word’s getting out?”

“Every cop in Pennsylvania has the description, but they can’t pull over every tan, white, or beige vehicle on the street.”

Cap nodded.

Em tapped all his fingers on the table and bounced back and forth on the seat a little bit.



“I better get back. I told Junior I needed some coffee that didn’t taste like cat shit.”

“Thanks for doing this,” Cap said. “What changed your mind?”

Em exhaled loudly and said, “I’m just thinking about it. Went home to my kids, you know. Jake’s the same age as the little Brandt girl, and I was like, what the fuck am I doing? Why not, why fuckin’ not? Let’s get this thing by the fuckin’ nuts, right?” he said, looking at Cap. Then, to Vega, “Excuse me.”

“Talk about nuts all you want,” she said. “Did Traynor bring in a Fed?”

“Yeah, his name’s Cartwright. He just came in this morning and been locked up with the chief.”

Cap nodded, said, “Look, I shared some information with Junior earlier. We might all be working together real soon.”

“Good. That’s good, right?”

“Right. Thanks, Em.”

Em grinned, looking a little dopey. He turned to Vega, waiting on something, like he’d asked her a question that she hadn’t answered yet.

She stared back, unsure of what he wanted. She glanced at Cap, who made some eye rolls in Em’s direction.

“Oh, thanks,” she said.

“My pleasure,” said Em. “I’m gonna go. Nice to meet you, Miss Vega,” he said, standing up from the booth. “Talk soon, Cap.”