Page 61 of Dirty

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“None of them?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Not once?”

“Nope.”

“When they opened the door and handed you the blindfolds, you weren’t able to see what they looked like?”

“There weren’t any lights in the room or in the hallway.”

It was true. There weren’t. If he was there, he’d have noticed for sure.

“When they fed you?” he asked.

“Dark.”

“And then, blindfolded and loaded onto what? Motorcycles?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

He chuckled. “With blindfolds on?”

“Yep.”

“And taken where?”

“I don’t know. We were taken to a van, loaded into it, and driven home.”

He shook his head. “Let me guess. Blindfolded?”

“Yeah. Weird, huh?”

“Would you recognize their voices?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it.”

“Let me ask you this. When you left. When you were led away to the motorcycles. Was there anyone else in the house other than the bikers that hauled you out?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I was blindfolded.”

“Right. The blindfolds. Did you by chance keep the blindfold?”

“No,” I said. “I threw it away. Have you talked to any of the other girls?”

He put the notepad in his pocket. “I’m not at liberty to say. It’s an ongoing investigation.”

I could tell by the look on his face that he had, and that he was frustrated with all of us. The story was simple, and we’d rehearsed it several times. I suspected the other girls said the exact same thing.

We didn’t hear anything. We didn’t see anything. It was that simple.

“When you were at the 7-Eleven getting gas, you weren’t blindfolded, were you?”

I laughed. “No.”

“So, from the time they grabbed you until the time they blindfolded you, you were able to see them, were you not?”