âJuan? Whatâs going on, man?â
âJust standard procedure,â Juan mumbled.
âThereâs a lot that seems to be standard procedure around here,â exclaimed Rich. âTell me, is it standard to have a young pregnant woman abducted from a shopping mall? Huh?â
No one said anything. Finally Rich said in a slow, flat voice, âI found the pretzel bag that belonged to my wife. I knew it was my wifeâs because I smelled her hand lotion on the bag.â
âIf she put it on in the morning, it must have been very faint,â noted Scott in a casual voice.
Rich got defensive anyway. âOkay, so? It was faint, yes. You wouldnât have been able to recognize the smell, certainly. And if it smelled of someone elseâs wife, I wouldnât have thought anything of it. But it smelled of my wife. Of all the people in the world, donât you think I would know that?â
Scott nodded, exchanging a glance with Chief Murphy. âSure, of course.â He nodded again. âLetâs not worry about this anymore,â he said to the chief. âIâll take care of it.â
âTake care of what?â Rich said, even though Scott was not talking to him.
Suddenly Scottâs expression changed. âGod help you if youâre lying to us. If youâre lying to me. â
âOh, for Christâs sake! Look, give me a damn lie detector test if you have to. Iâm telling you the Godâs honest truth. Every minute youâre standing here interrogating me, heâs one mile farther away from us.â
Scott and Chief Murphy stared at each other for a moment, and then Scott nodded slightly. He tilted his head to one side and smiled at Rich. âAll right, man,â he said in a comforting voice. âThe spouse is always under suspicion at first. Standard procedure. Listen, even when you think weâre not working, weâre working. Iâm on the job five minutes and we may already have a small breakthrough.â
Richâs eyes brightened. âBreakthrough?â he said.
Scott lifted his hand. âNow, donât get your hopes up.â
Blood rushing to his face, Rich said, âGod, what, what?â
âWell, this is what we have. At three thirty-five, ten miles south of Dallas on Thirty-five E, a report came in on police radio from a lady about a disturbance in the car next to her. She called nine-one-one on her cell phone.â
âWhat kind of disturbance? What did she say?â Richâs heart pounded in his chest.
âShe said that she was driving her car minding her own business, when she noticed that in the car to the left of her a woman was turned to the window while the driver, a man, was hitting her with an object.â
âOh God,â said Rich, and thought, maybe thatâs not Didi.
âThe lady said,â Scott continued, âthat the woman looked young and had long brown hair. The woman was saying something through the window, but the lady couldnât make out what it was. She also said the woman was holding her hands up to the window as if in prayer, so she might have been saying something like âpleaseâ or âhelp me.ââ
âOh my God,â Rich said, his fists helplessly clenched.
âWe donât know anything for sure, you understand?â Scott said.
Rich noted that Juan and Chief Murphy had said nothing during the conversation. Scott had a cocksure and intimidating manner that didnât allow for interjection.
âIt could have been some couple having a domestic fight,â Scott said. âIt does happen, you know.â
Rich knew it happened. But he had to believe it was his wife and his wife was alive. That was the most important thing. Not knowing what had happened to his wife was the unbearable part. Not knowing if she was all right.
Had Scott said 3:35? What time had Rich called the cell phone? It had been about three-thirty.
The
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