My stomach lifted from the floor, but it still felt sucker-punched.
“Let’s sit for a minute,” Knox said, and gestured to our high-top just shy of the galley kitchen that worked as a dinner table.
“Can I get you guys something?” Noelle asked, releasing my arm. “Beer? Coffee?”
“Coffee’d be great,” Knox said. I declined. I had enough caffeine in me to fuel a matador.
We sat, but I noticed Knox hadn’t removed his jacket. I itched for my pad and pen, because Knox seemed like he was about to impart information, and whether it would solve what happened to Emme or not, I hadn’t yet recognized the desperation in my urge to write something down, even if it turned out to be furious, nonsensical scribbles.
“We’ve canvassed the area, but it’s bringing up exactly what you’d expect,” Knox began.
“Too many fingerprints and fibers,” I said. “Because the loft is a space used by so many, it’s pretty much contaminated.”
He agreed. “We’ll run everything regardless, but that route’s looking pretty dead.”
“What about the blood?” I asked. Noelle came between us, setting down Knox’s coffee and bringing me a glass of ice water.
Knox dipped his chin, acknowledging my point, but added, “DNA will take weeks. This isn’t a high priority case.”
And, Knox didn’t say, it was also the only reason I was being granted so much access. He could use the help, since police precincts across Manhattan were bogged down in crime and understaffed in crime-solving.
It was pointless to add we didn’t have the kind of time to wait, despite Emme’s abduction being one of the many missing women cases in the city. “Walk me through what else has been done,” I said.
“Interviews. We’ve talked to Emme’s parents and are currently getting as much background on her as we can.”
“There’s little chance of a ransom,” I said. “Her parents don’t come from much, so what could the kidnapper want? Nothing would be sent to Jackson, Wyoming. I doubt this guy has attempted any contact.” I thought for a minute, because everyone hoped the kidnapper would do exactly that. It increased the chances of finding Emme exponentially if the guy created a doorway. “The way he took her. Abrupt yet so perfectly executed. Like one minute she was there and poof, he has her at the second location. That’s exactly how a professional kidnapping would go, except…there’ve been no demands. The whole thing doesn’t smell like money.”
“You’re right. But we’re leaving that possibility open. All avenues have to be looked at, as you know.”
“Her old roommates, Becca and Jade, have you spoken with them?” I asked.
He nodded. “Becca’s at the police station now. Jade is overseas but we’re trying to get in contact with her.”
I hadn’t seen Becca in a long time, but in the five years I’d known her, she’d smacked her impression on me. Crazy-wild blonde hair, light blue eyes that matched Emme’s only in their wickedness, and that ungodly, inescapable voice that could be heard in any corner of a five-story apartment complex.
Loyal, scrappy, unafraid to make a point, Becca must’ve worked in a past life as a litigator. In modern times, though, she’d chosen the computer age, working for an online company in fashion and blogging. I hoped she and Emme stayed in touch, because in Becca was a rare form of friendship. I could tell the moment I introduced myself to her and she had a knife in her hands.
Jade was the opposite. Brown hair, light brown skin, dark eyes. A bio-engineering major, she intimidated with smarts and quick logic. She and I often spent nights talking about the future of American healthcare.
A terrible topic at 1 AM. Might as well discuss counting sheep. Maybe, but I didn’t sleep well, even with Emme beside me, and on temperate nights I preferred to get out of bed and nurse a beer on the balcony, listening to the constant activity of the city, an endless beehive of speed and sound. Jade was often awake, too, studying, and she’d join me sometimes, explaining her theories about advanced technology and clinical patents…
And instead of lulling me to a coma, I gorged on the knowledge.
“Good. They’ll provide more information than Emme’s parents. If they’re still close, I mean.” I frowned. It wasn’t like I knew them anymore.
“They are,” Knox said. “But we’re finding the best way to get information about Emme’s routine and the types of people around her is through her fiancé.”
Everything went quiet.
“Fiancé,” I repeated.
“Yeah.” Knox took a break by taking a slow sip of his coffee. “It’s why I came by.”
I stared at the wood grain of the table for a moment. “You don’t have to—it’s fine. Been long enough for her to…you know. We have our own lives now.”
Knox lowered his mug, and as he did so he glanced at the bedroom door which was cracked slightly open. Noelle appeared to give us space, but I knew her well enough to figure she had one ear on this conversation. Knox seemed to as well, since he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I’m here because I care about you, man. And this is a fucked-up situation and I’m going to do whatever I can to make it better for you—but you understand, right? How I have to focus and divide my time. How I have to…” He cleared his throat, shifted back in his seat. “David Hamid, Emme’s fiancé, has to be my focal point.”
I sifted through his words, making sense out of the blank spaces. “Are you saying you’re wasting your time being here?”