“Is it that unusual? I mean, fifteen minutes. That’s a tight leash you’ve got on your people.”
Sylvia shrugged. “It is what it is. You try making twenty drinks for some schmo’s office suck-up and you need everyone you can.” She looked up and smiled at one of the schmos in line. “Just a second. Aphrodite is making your drinks now.”
The man nodded impatiently, obviously indifferent to anyone’s needs but his own.
“See?” she said, this time in a low voice.
Paul stopped stirring. “Okay, so Emma is dependable and you were worried. Anything you can tell us about her last shift?”
Sylvia pretended to be busy and looked away.
“Sylvia, you’re thinking about something,” Grace said.
The young woman looked up. “I don’t know,” she said.
Grace leaned a little closer. “That means you know something.”
Sylvia wrapped her arms around her chest, trying in a very real way, though unconsciously so, to hold it all inside.
“Tell me,” Grace said.
“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”
“No one is in trouble but Emma Rose,” Paul said.
Grace looked over at her partner. “Look, he’s right. But Emma’s parents are very, very worried.”
“Is there something going on with Emma and her parents?” Paul asked.
Sylvia shook her head. “Oh no. Her parents were cool. They used to come in and sit over there.” She pointed to a pair of leather easy chairs. “You know, hang out before she got off and then they took her out for Thai.”
“That’s nice. But something is bothering you,” Grace said. “What are you thinking? We’ve got to find her.”
“I hate to bring it up.”
“What? Sylvia, what are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to cause trouble. He’s a nice kid.”
“Who? Who’s a nice kid?”
“Oliver. Oliver Angstrom. He was always talking about how hot Emma is and, you know, how he wanted to ask her out.”
“She’s a pretty girl,” Grace said. “I’m sure she got a lot of attention.”
“Right. Customers liked her, too.”
“We need you to focus now, okay? What about Oliver?”
Sylvia looked down at the counter. “He was going to ask her out. Finally. I knew she wouldn’t say yes, because, well, she’s so pretty and he’s so geeky. Sweet, but geeky. But not geeky and scary.”
Grace knew the difference. She’d once dated a geeky guy in high school. Smart, brainy, was sexy. Loving Star Wars too much, not so.
“I don’t know if Oliver asked her out or not, but I do know that they were together. They cleaned and closed.”
“Did you see Oliver today?”
An uneasy look came over Sylvia’s face. She shook her head. “No, I didn’t. No one did. He called in and used one of his floating holidays.”
“Was that unexpected?”
“Totally. If I’d gotten the call directly I would have told him no, but he called in the store’s voice mail and left a message before opening.”
Grace knew that approach. She’d done it a time or two herself. So had Paul. Always call in to the sergeant when you know he’s not at his desk.
Just then, another Starbucks worker made his way through from the back room. He was a thin, gawky teenager, with a faint black moustache struggling to survive on his upper lip. The goatee he’d tried cultivating was even less successful. He was carrying a small black purse.
“Talking about Emma?” he asked.
“Yes,” Grace said, looking at the teen with the purse.
“Lost and Found brought this over earlier today,” he said. “Emma’s purse. Said the maintenance crew turned it in and the guy at Lost and Found knew her name and picture ID so he brought it over here.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sylvia asked the young man, whose tag identified him as Tony G.
Grace took the purse. “Did they say where they found it?”
“Yeah. She must have dropped it by the bus stop. Found it over there,” he said, indicating a place outside the front of the coffee shop. “Want me to show you where it is?” He looked at Sylvia for permission and she reluctantly nodded.
Sylvia let out a quivering sigh. She was, apparently, all business. “We’re very, very short-staffed, Tony.”
“It’s all right. We’ll only keep him a minute. Then he can get back to his important work here.” Paul’s tone was condescending, more than it really needed to be. Sylvia had pretty thick skin, but she got the gist of what he was saying without words.
“Fine,” she said. She turned her attention to Grace. “Emma’s a sweet girl. I hope you find her soon.”
There was a slight chill in the air as the trio walked over to a section of the parking lot, in front of which sat a Plexiglas-enclosed bus shelter. With the exception of an elderly woman laden with shopping bags from several mall stores, the enclosure was empty.
“Here’s where she caught the bus,” Tony said.
“Thanks,” Paul said.
Grace nodded as she scanned the area. The Starbucks was in full view, not more than thirty yards away.
“You need anything else?” Tony asked. “Gotta get back.”
Grace smiled and nodded, and the young man backed away, his green apron disappearing around a swarm of parked cars.
“What are you so happy about?” Paul asked.
“Not happy,” Grace said. “Just glad.”
“Glad about what? And what’s the difference, by the way?”
Grace’s eyes traveled up a parking lot light standard. “We might have a witness.”
“Huh?” Paul squinted, but he needed his glasses to really see anything at any distance. “Some birds?”
Grace resisted the desire to roll her eyes. He would notice that for sure. “The video camera,” she said, extending her index finger in the direction of a small surveillance camera pivoted toward the bus stop. “Let’s see who monitors the feed.”
Where am I? Emma Rose looked around. She could barely move. Every inch of her body ached. She remembered that she’d been kidnapped, by some pervert no doubt. She tried to lift her head, but it was heavy like a bowling ball. Her eyes moved around the darkened room. In the corner she saw the shadowy figure of a man. He was just out of the beam of the reading lamp.
“What are you going to do?” she asked, almost editing her words to ask, What have you done to me?
Emma waited for an answer. Instead, she saw him flip the switch that powered the gooseneck reading lamp. The room was now completely black. She felt the air move around her and the door open and shut. Next, the sound of the dead bolt as it fell into place.
She reached down and touched herself. Her clothes were on. She wasn’t a virgin and she knew what it felt like after sex. She hadn’t been violated when she was unconscious.
A moment later, she fell asleep.
When she woke up, it was to the sound of the hatch and tray being opened. She went over to the tray. Lying on it were a brush and mirror. She went back to the light and looked at herself. Her hair had been washed and detangled. The bruising of her eyes had faded from a dark purple to an almost imperceptible yellow hue.
Her long hair. Shiny. Clean.
Her thoughts raced in a circle.
