Chet considered my request. It felt like I could see his brain trying to work out the pros and cons. He hesitated. Finally, he reached for his phone. After a few seconds, he held it up and showed me a photo of a young woman in a flowered sundress, sitting at a table. The setting looked like it might be a restaurant. There was plenty of light. And the girl was definitely Nicole Snaff. Her smile and eyes were unmistakable. I felt a surge of excitement.
Joe reached up and positioned the phone so he could see it clearly. Then he said, “Can you send me this photo, please?”
Chet said, “No can do.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t have any cheddar in my hand.”
I resisted the urge to reach across and grab this kid by his ragged concert shirt. Luckily, my husband was more nuanced.
Joe simply said, “Okay. Thank you for your time.” He turned and headed for the door. I followed his lead after throwing a dirty look at Chet.
Before we were halfway across the cheap, vinyl flooring, Chet blurted out, “Wait. Where you goin’?”
Joe continued until his hand was on the front door. Then, without turning around, he said, “We’re way too busy to put up with bullshit like this.”
Chet relented. “Okay, okay, I’ll send you the photo.”
Once Joe had the photo on his phone, we both studied it carefully. There was something off about the photo. I couldn’t put my finger on what. But the first thing Joe did was run it through an app that searched stock photo sites. We waited for the results of the search.
Just as Chet asked, “How much do you think I can get for this proof the girl is alive?” the results came back. His app showed two different photographs: one of a young woman in the same dress but with blond hair, and the other of Nicole Snaff at some sort of party.
Joe grunted. He looked up at the young man. “So you took Nicole’s face and stitched it into a different photo. You didn’t think the FBI would figure this out?”
Chet looked abashed. He decided to just come clean. “Well, I didn’t think you’d figure it outthatquick.”
“You know this is a crime, right? I could spin it into a serious offense. We’ll be back tomorrow to talk to you at length.” Then he turned on his heel and marched toward the door. He made a show of banging the door to knock it open.
Once we were both outside, I said, “Is it worth charging that kid?”
“No chance. But he’ll be sweating a visit from us for the next few days. That’s his punishment.”
All I could say was “Brilliant.”
Before getting into our separate cars, I stopped my husband, turned him toward me, and gave him a long, passionate kiss.
CHAPTER44
JOE WENT TOpick up Julie. I was ready to head home for a nice bath. It had been a long day and I was beat.
I was watching Joe pull away from the small strip mall when my phone rang. It was Cindy Thomas. I didn’t want to take it. But I did.
“I’m near the Dorm in the Mission. I need help right now. Please hurry.” Then she hung up.
There aren’t a lot of people I’d drop everything for, but Cindy was one of them. I wasn’t going to call her back and tell her that I was exhausted or scold her for bothering me. I couldn’t just say,I’m too tired. I had to suck it up and make sure she was okay.
This time of night it wasn’t a hard ride to the Mission District. Traffic was light and the traffic lights were synced. A light drizzle made the asphalt shimmer under the streetlights.
I hadn’t spent a lot of time in the Mission since I patrolled it during my rookie days, but I knew it still had a fair amount of street crime. I had no idea what kind of trouble Cindy had gotteninto. Unfortunately, my imagination easily came up with terrifying scenarios.
I breathed a quick sigh of relief when I spotted Cindy pacing in front of a little shop on Guerrero Street that sold handmade blankets and quilts. Cindy was on her phone but ended her conversation and tucked her phone into her purse as soon as she saw me.
“What’s going on? You said you needed me right now. Then I couldn’t get you on the phone on my way over here. So what’s the story?” I asked.
Cindy walked to the corner of the quilt business and peered down the empty side street. She pointed at the four-story brick structure called Hotel Montserrat, better known locally as “the Dorm.” The hotel was clean and reasonably inexpensive. It still had an elegant outline with stone eagles on the corners of the roof and columns by the entrance. I’d heard that in the fifties it was quite the place. Now I thought of it as a place for tourists on a budget.
Cindy said, “I was going a little stir crazy at home. I was antsy and working on some of my ideas about the book. I kept thinking about the missing girls.”
