“And we appreciate that.” Jack smiled at her. “But we like to hear things right from the witness. Would you mind if we came in for a few minutes?”
“The FBI. I never expected… I mean…” Her words trailed off as she ran a hand over her hair and tugged on the hem of her T-shirt, then allowed them to pass.
“Excuse the mess.” She rushed to the sofa and grabbed a blanket along with a bowl of popcorn and an e-reader. “Have a seat.”
She set the e-reader and popcorn on a glass table and dropped onto an overstuffed chair. Reid and Jack took opposite ends of the sofa.
She hugged the blanket against her chest. “What do you want to know about that day?”
Jack leaned into the plump cushion as if this were a simple conversation, not an all-important interview. Reid was too tightly strung to follow suit and admired Jack’s ability to play it cool.
“Go ahead and tell us what happened from the time you first saw the two men talking,” Jack said.
“I was getting gas, and the attendant had put the nozzle in my car but then didn’t start it pumping because this other guy hops out of a trashy white pickup and comes over to talk to him.”
Jack held out Fowler’s picture on his phone. “Is this the man you saw?”
“Yeah. Yeah. That’s him.” She shuddered. “I’ll never forget that face. So mean looking, and it seemed like the attendant was afraid of him.”
“What did they talk about?” Reid asked, starting to lose what little patience he had.
She took a hearty breath. “The visitor was trying to get the attendant to agree to meet him for a drink. I got the feeling that one or both of them were ex-cons.”
“How so?” Jack asked.
“The attendant talked about having to stay away from the other guy or go back to prison.”
“Did you by any chance catch the attendant’s name?” Reid asked, coming to the point.
“I did.”
Reid gaped at her before he quickly controlled it as a professional interviewer would do. How had she heard his name and Megan missed it? Or did Megan withhold it for some reason? No, she wouldn’t do that, would she?
“And how did that occur?” Jack asked, obviously on the same wavelength as Reid.
“The visitor got kind of mad at the attendant for not quickly agreeing to the drink. So after he said goodbye, he stormed past my car. My window was open, and he muttered, “Stupid Billy Smith. You’ll get what’s due you if you don’t show up.”
“And you’re sure he said Billy Smith?” Jack asked.
“Positive. He might’ve been muttering, but there was an ugly force behind his words and it came through loud and clear.”
“How old do you think this gas attendant was?” Jack asked.
“Early fifties, maybe late forties. His beard was graying anyway. His hair too. And he had wrinkles by his eyes.”
“Is there anything else that you think we should know about the conversation or these men?” Jack asked.
“Nothing, really. I just got the feeling that the visitor was used to the attendant doing what he asked. That their relationship, whatever it was, wasn’t equal.”
Reid couldn’t wait to track down this Billy Smith, so he stood. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Cole.”
Jack stood and fished a business card from his pocket to give to Kim, who was standing too. “Call if you think of anything that you remember that might help.”
“What did this guy do?” She shoved the card into her jeans pocket. “I mean to get the FBI involved it has to be bad, right?”
“You’d be surprised at the boring crimes we investigate.” Jack laughed.
Reid appreciated the way his buddy put the woman at ease and still didn’t answer her question.
