“I’m aware.” Was the point of this meeting to make me feel worse about myself than I already did? Because if that was the case, Reid was doing a bang-up job.
“Why not contact the police?” he asked.
“They were no help,” I said. “The police station was the first place I went. They let me file a report, but they gave me a look ten times worse than the one you’re giving me right now when I explained everything.”
Reid immediately closed his mouth and adjusted his face, so it once again read as serious rather than amused.
“Besides,” I continued. “It’s not like they have a track record of taking upset women seriously. I believe the word ‘hysterical’ was tossed around while I was there.”
“Fair point,” he said, which was at least a little bit reassuring. “I’ve looked into enough cold cases to realize you can’t always trust a detective to investigate something thoroughly. Especially if there’s no vested interest.”
“So, do you think you can help?” I asked, doing my best to blink my lashes at him in what I hoped was a charming way. It wasn’t like I thought I could win him over with flirting. I wasn’t the kind of girl guys tripped over themselves for. But Reid was a softy, Ruby had said as much. And the quiet way he looked at me, taking in everything I was dealing with, only confirmed it.
He sighed in defeat, gathering all the papers I’d brought and stuffing them back into the folder. “I can try,” he said.
I let out a squeal and he jumped back in the booth, jerking his head around to see if I’d captured anyone’s attention. The old man was still reading, and the burly trucker-looking men were deep in conversation. The waitress, however, shot us a wink before going back to filling the sugar containers.
“I saidtry,” he continued. “Like I said, this is different from anything I’ve looked into before. But I can at least see if I can help you come up with a theory.”
“Where do we start?” I pulled out a small notebook from my tote and a pen before clicking it and poised myself to start writing.
Reid clocked my preparedness and smiled before lifting his eyes to the ceiling.
“Okay, first things first. We need to compile a suspect list.”
“Got it,” I said, writing “Suspect List” in big loopy letters at the top of the page.
Reid took his glasses off and held them while pinching the bridge of his nose. “Even though the social media post is unfortunate, I suppose we can narrow the search down to people who know you. Your phone number wouldn’t be hard to get online if they knew your full name, but my gut says it’s likely someone who had it already.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, writing everything down furiously.
“And I suppose we could narrow it down further to someone who knows where you live. There’s always the chance it was some obsessive stalker, but this whole thing reeks of opportunity. Ruby said Vermont was snatched from your courtyard while you went inside for a second, right?”
“Right,” I confirmed.
“So they might not have even come to take him. Maybe they came to talk to you, try to guilt you into giving them money, or even something totally unrelated, saw Vermont, and took the opportunity.”
The way Reid analyzed the situation was already givingme more hope than I’d had in days. He was treating it like a problem or a puzzle, and we just needed to collect the right pieces. I know he’d specifically said not to, but my hopes were already up.
“I guess we can probably narrow it down to people who know your address. How long have you lived there?” he asked.
I dropped my pen, cringing. “Um, not long.”
Reid clocked my fallen face and leaned in. “What?” he demanded.
“Um, well. I might have made another post.”
His head tipped back, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he let out a loud groan. “Another social media post?” he asked.
I shifted uncomfortably. “I wanted to show off my new apartment.”
“And I suppose you what? Posted the outside of the building?”
“Worse.” I sank further into my seat, and he sat up straighter, eyes narrowing. Ireallyneeded to rethink my social media usage in the future.
“What? You didn’t put the address in the caption or something?”
“I might have tagged the apartment complex,” I said, dropping my eyes as I played with the edge of my notebook paper.
