Page 57 of Wicked and Ruthless

Nash leaned in to bark out a follow-up. Haisley shot him an emphatic glare, so he bit his tongue. He wasn’t used to downshifting, much less taking a back seat, but she was making strides with Abby. He just had to let her do her thing.

With an almost imperceptible nod, he leaned back in his chair and ceded the interview to her.

She flashed him a grateful smile, then turned back to Abby. “Bolted? He got in the van and left?”

“Yeah. Tore away from the curb, burning rubber and everything. I ran back into the food court. I was so freaking scared, I trembled for the next hour.”

“I’m sure. I would have been afraid, too. Did you get a good look at the guy?”

“It was starting to get dark out there, but I saw enough.”

“Had you seen him before?”

Abby thought about it, then shook her head. “Not that I remember. I mean, I see a lot of faces here, so if he was milling around the mall, I didn’t notice him. He wasn’t super tall, like him.” She glanced Nash’s way. “Or even particularly memorable. He seemed…average. But, you know, on the disturbing side. Besides the dark skull cap, he had brown facial hair and brown eyes. Um…his complexion wasn’t dark or light. Maybe in the middle? That’s harder because it was shadowy out there.”

“Any identifying characteristics?”

“His nose was crooked, like it had been broken at some point. He had this blue teardrop tattoo under his eye.” She pointed. “It was attached to something…tribal looking, but most of it was covered by his skull cap. And more tattoos on his knuckles, but I couldn’t make them out.”

Nash jerked upright and exchanged a glance with Haisley. Sure, that teardrop might mean the guy had lost someone, but it was also a common tattoo for gang members or those who had served time. Then again, attached to something tribal, the ink could mean something else altogether. “Could you describe him if we brought in a sketch artist?”

“Yeah. I have a good memory. I suck at names, but I remember faces.”

Nash reached for his phone, happy to help and have some purpose in this conversation. “I’m on it.”

As he texted Hunter Edgington, he heard Haisley continue with questions. He was so damn proud of the progress she was making. This was their first possible break in the case.

“Fantastic. Did you get the make and model of the van? Did it say anything on the side, like the name of a business? Did you get a license plate?”

“It was a Chevy, but not like a minivan. It was more old school, like something out of the seventies.”

“A conversion van?”

“Yeah. There was nothing on the side. More than that?” Abby shrugged. “Sorry. I was too rattled to look at the license plate, but I did notice the front right hubcap was missing. The whole thing looked dingy. Tinted windows and a dented chrome bumper.”

“What shade of brown? Light, like a tan color or?—”

“No. Darker, like a coffee brown. That’s all I remember.”

“That’s a lot, and it’s incredibly helpful. Have you told anyone else?”

“Just my mom. I was too scared to tell anyone else.”

“Do you remember anything else about that incident? Did you see anyone else outside? Or in the hallway when you came back in?”

She paused, then frowned. “I didn’t think about it then because I hadn’t been working when anyone was abducted, but the janitor was hanging around the women’s bathroom. When I came back in those doors, he had the hall blocked off, and he looked…”

“Annoyed?”

“Startled. I didn’t know what was up with him, but I didn’t stick around to find out.”

That was the third mention of the fucking janitor. Nash made a mental note to move him to the top of the interview list. Even if the creep wasn’t involved, even if he was just doing his job, he must have seen something at some point.

The glance Haisley sent him suggested the same thing. He nodded, letting her know they were on the same page.

Damn, she was good at this. He already respected her intelligence, but tonight had taken it up another notch.

“You absolutely did the right thing, hustling back to safety,” Haisley assured the girl. “Anything else you remember?”

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