“Looks like I’ll be warning people to be careful on the subways tonight.” Ken Dryer squeezed her hand. “You sure you’re okay, kid? I know it’s my job, but I’m getting to be a regular on the news, and you seem to have a lot to do with it.”
“Thank God you’re good on TV,” she told him. “I’m fine.”
He left. Joe was still tarrying, but before he could say anything, Robert returned to the room. “Some kind citizen apparently gathered your purse and whatever papers they could find. The nurses will see that your things are returned.” He stared at her, then at Joe, then at her again. “You know…I’d been anxious to see you myself. I thought maybe you could help with the missing hookers. But now…I think you ought to leave town.”
“Leave town? I’m in the middle of a project,” Leslie protested.
Robert shook his head. “I don’t like it.”
“I’m not leaving town,” she said firmly. “Robert, please. This is ridiculous. If it hadn’t been me, it would have been someone else. The subway was a zoo. That’s it. That’s all. Okay?”
He looked at her, shook his head, started out, then turned back. “Stay safe,” he said firmly. He shot Joe a look that seemed to blame him, then left.
She noticed that Joe looked thoughtful as he watched the other man leave. “What is it?”
“I don’t know.” He turned back to her, leaning over her, arms braced on either side of the mattress. “I need to know. I need to know a lot. You are going to stay here, right?”
“You bet. As soon as they find me a room, I’ll catch a nice nap. Some nice candy striper will bring me tea and lunch. It will be great.”
“It had better be,” he warned. And then, at last, he left her.
To Joe’s amazement, Didi was still waiting for him at Starbucks. She was with another woman.
“Joe!” Didi called when he entered, and stood, smiling.
“You waited all this time,” he said.
“I knew you’d come.”
“And who is this?” Joe asked politely.
She was tiny, blond and blue-eyed. She looked a little edgy, though.
“Do you want some coffee?” he asked, trying to put her at ease.
“Heidi wants a cigarette,” Didi said.
Joe’s eyes riveted on the woman. “You’re Heidi Arundsen?”
She nodded nervously. Her size and delicate bone structure made her look young. But there was a tension about her, a strain, that showed her age.
“Go ahead. There are some tables outside. I’m going to get myself some coffee. Can I get you ladies something while I’m at it?”
He expected an answer of “Just regular coffee.” Maybe with cream or sugar. But Heidi wanted a double latte with a shot of sugar-free vanilla syrup and fat-free milk. Didi was into a grande mocha, two pumps only, no whipped cream, and a piece of coffee cake.
In line, he chafed. But he had no intention of scaring Heidi away from spilling whatever she might be able to tell him. So he waited. And he was careful to get the order right. When he joined the two women at the table, he sat down casually, asked if he’d gotten everything right, then waited.
“Heidi saw the car, too,” Didi informed him.
“The dark sedan?” he asked.
Heidi looked at Didi, as if for reassurance. Then she turned back to Joe. “It wasn’t just dark, it was black. Tinted windows. Like Betty Olsen.”
It took him a second to shift gears. Then the name registered as one he’d seen in the files about the missing prostitutes. Betty Olsen had disappeared approximately a month before Genevieve O’Brien. Betty hadn’t been listed in Genevieve’s case folders, but Heidi had been interviewed after Betty was reported missing.
“Betty was a friend of yours?”
“Betty lived in my building. I was out with her, chatting on the street, you know. And I saw her get into the black sedan. And that was the last time I saw her. Black,” she repeated. “I know it was black.”
“You don’t remember the make or model?”
Heidi shook her head. “It was sleek-looking.”
“Sleek…clean, in good shape, that kind of thing?”
“Yes.”
“Like some kind of official car?”
“Maybe,” she said, but she sounded uncertain. “I’ve seen hundreds of cars like it on the street. To tell you the truth, a couple things ran through my mind. I was thinking the dude probably had money. And I was thinking Betty might have known him, ’cuz she didn’t stand by the window negotiating, just got right in.”
Joe leaned back, puzzled. Who would have been driving around in a black sedan who knew both Genevieve O’Brien and a prostitute so well that they would both just jump in the car with him?
“I wish I could tell you more,” Heidi said.