“I realized that there were a few more questions I didn’t get to ask you when I was here last,” Tara began. The manager looked at her curiously. “Did Reese ever speak of a photographer? Or did any photographer ever come in here while she was working?”
The manager tilted her head, contemplating the question. “No, not that I’m aware of.” She looked toward the two other workers, who looked up at the turn of her head. “Do you guys ever see a photographer come in here?” They both looked toward each other and shook their heads in unison.
The manager turned back to Tara. “Why do you ask?”
Tara didn’t want to tell her too much. Interviewing her without Warren being aware could already be seen as insubordinate. She didn’t want to stir this woman’s curiosity, especially with teenagers present, and have it echo through the community.
“We’re just covering our bases,” Tara answered. It was a vague response, but the manager accepted it and nodded.
Tara then looked toward the other two employees. “Did they work with Reese?”
The manager nodded. “Roy did for a while,” she replied, referring to the cashier. “Angela just started.”
Tara turned to face the cashier, who was still washing tables. “Did Reese ever mention someone that would visit her? Someone she seemed friendly with?”
The boy stopped scrubbing and looked up with a frown, shaking his head. “No one in particular. Just her boyfriend, Brian, once in a while.” It was a detail Tara was already aware of, and they had already ruled him out because of his broken arm. He also did not fit who Tara was looking for.
She prodded the boy for more. “Anyone else?” she asked, but he only shrugged.
“Not that I’m aware of,” he replied.
Tara’s heart sank. She wasn’t getting anywhere, and she was beginning to wonder if this was a waste of time, if her inner voice was worth listening to. But she also knew she needed to see this through. She didn’t want to give up too easily, because if she were right and turned away, she’d be sick with guilt and regret.
She continued to ask them both a few more questions. If Reese ever spoke to anyone on her breaks, if a customer ever seemed to take interest in her, if she ever seemed afraid. They were all questions that she had asked the manager before, but not the boy. But as they both shook their heads at each question, Tara lost the small bit of hope she had left, and her heart sank.
She thanked them both for their time and was about to turn to the door when the manager spoke to her employees. “Oh, look,” she said, her eyes glued on the TV. “It’s Dan Asher.” A large grin filled her face as both employees turned their eyes to the TV.
Tara glanced at the screen. It was a reporter. He looked familiar, and Tara tried to place his face until it suddenly came to her in a rush. He had been at the crime scenes, reporting, and he was also one of the reporters at the medical examiner’s office, shoving a microphone in her face, and the one she made eye contact with at Fowler Beach.
Tara turned to the manager. “Do you know him?”
The woman nodded without her eyes moving from the TV. “He’s a regular customer. He comes in here quite a bit. He’s very nice. He’s their crime reporter.” She beamed. “Reese had a big crush on him, actually,” she giggled before sighing sadly.
But at her words a chill ran down Tara’s spine. She looked at the man on the screen again, his hair perfectly slicked back, his masculine, chiseled jaw and dark brown eyes. He was certainly handsome, and Tara assumed equally as charming. Her mind ran wild. He had a news background, he would most likely know a thing or two about how a crime case operates, and he was charming enough that he could lead a girl in his car without struggle. Tara stared at the screen, making a mental note of the station he worked for, and then turned to the door. He was always one of the first reporters at the scene, and at that realization, another chill ran cold through her.
***
Tara sat in her car as she googled the news station on her phone. Could she be on to something? A number popped up, and Tara dialed it. Within a few moments, someone picked up and she realized she wasn’t entirely sure how she would approach this. She knew he had been following the story. She could just say she wanted to speak to him about it.
An operator spoke. “How may I direct your call?”
Tara cleared her throat. “Can you please connect me to the news desk?” She had only called a news station a couple times in her life when she was a police officer, but she had remembered how to make sure her call got directed to the correct place.
“One moment,” she heard before being placed on hold. Seconds later, a different female voice sounded through the phone.
“This is WDITV. How can I help you?”
“Um yes,” Tara started. “I’m FBI Agent Tara Mills. I was hoping to speak with Dan Asher about a story he’s working on.”
The woman didn’t even hesitate. She placed Tara on a brief hold before returning moments later. “His shift just ended an hour ago, but he will be in tomorrow,” she said.
“Is there any way I can speak to him before that?” Tara did not intend to wait that long.
“I can give you his work cell number. He’s usually quick to respond.”
Tara thanked her. “Yes, that would be great,” she replied before she reached for a pen and paper in her glove
