Page 4 of Dirty Ex-Mas
“I don’t see it. Sorry.”
He pulls up a random picture of David online and flips his screen around so I can see it. The resemblance is uncanny. In my mind, there were zero similarities between the man in the sketch and David. But seeing them side-by-side in print, I can’t deny it.
Could be a coincidence. I just need to prove it. Which gives me an idea I should have thought of before now.
“I’ll bring this over to research and records and see if they can run facial recognition on the sketch and match it to anything in any of the databases.”
“Good idea. Tell Jenny I said hi. After that I say we go talk to the girl, review her story one more time.”
Jenny works the intake desk in research and records, and she has a bit of a crush on Mack. Most women do. He shamelessly feeds into it with every single one of them, even though he’s not interested. And they eat it up.
I nod in response and head down the hall to the elevators. Research and records takes up the entire space, a few floors above us in the building. While the bulk of our records are electronic, there are still originals of files dating back fifty years or more that we haven’t digitized. Partly because we’re a smaller branch office and don’t have the manpower to do so, and partly because the government moves slow with most things.
I took Jenny out a couple times last year, but nothing came of it. For a few reasons: one, she doesn’t really do it for me. Two, since she has a crush on Mack, I don’t really do it for her. Three, I don’t like to date. Hookups and one-night stands? Sure. But dating is tough since most women don’t understand the lifestyle—long hours, canceled plans, secret phone calls and trips, little explanation on my whereabouts. My guess is its hard for anyone to stay trusting under such circumstances.
And the fourth reason, the one I hate admitting to myself and that I’ve never admit to anyone else, I’ve got a crush on Quinn, the ex of my best friend, David. But even if I liked to date, I could never date her because of David. It would weird him out, I’m sure. And if they ever slept together, it would creep me out even more.
Mack had a solid relationship with a woman named Daria for a while, but they broke it off after a year. She owns a bar in town, and we have lunch there often. Multiple times a week. He won’t admit it but I think he still loves her, which is why he’s not interested in anyone else.
“Jenny, how’s it going?” I call out to her as I reach her desk. She looks up at me with a smile, we parted as friends and on good terms but I also think she’s friendly toward me so I’ll put in a good word for her with Mack.
“Hey, Reed. It’s all good here, how are you?”
“Can’t complain. Mack said to tell you hello.”
“He’s so sweet.” She sighs. “Tell him I said hi, back.”
“I’ll do that. Hey, we need your help on something.”
“Whatcha got?”
“Can we run facial recognition in multiple databases at the same time?”
“Sure, it’ll take longer, but I can do it.”
“Great, can you add this to my earlier request and target NCIC, CODIS, and NDIS? Let me know when you get anything back?”
“Will do.”
I slap my hand down on her desk. “You’re the best, Jenny. I owe you one.” I point back at her as I walk back to the elevators.
“You owe me like twenty,” she calls after me.
“I’m good for it!” I yell back as the elevator doors close.
Mack and I head out to talk to the victim, the woman who made the report which started the investigation. He drives while I recap a synopsis from the file. Like with the coffee, in theory we trade off driving, but really Mack does most of it. Unlike with the coffee, it’s not because he’s a better driver, it’s because I don’t mind being a passenger.
“Paula Nelson, age twenty-three, works as a hair stylist, not the first time she’d used the app, but it was her first date with this guy. According to her, he was normal, they had a nice time, nothing too out of the ordinary. One minute she was in his car to go from the bar to dinner, and the next minute she’s waking up in a strange room, where some other girls are lying around, and a different guy is trying to stick her with a needle.”
“So, guy number one does the date pick up and the drugged drop off—he must have roofied her or something similar. And someone else maintains the girls and the house.” He looks at me when he talks then back at the road again.
“That would be my guess. Then once at the house, the girls get hit with something more dependency friendly, maybe a little H? Get ‘em high out of their minds, they won’t care much about what’s going on.”
“Where was she found?”
“By her own account, she’d been walking for hours, but who knows how the aftereffects of what he gave her the first time affected her memory or ability to gauge time. They picked her up over by where route five and sixty-seventh avenue intersect. Not a lot out there.” I shrug. “Says she thinks it was a house she ran from and not a commercial building.”
“Residential brothel?” Murphy asks.
