Angie took Mike’s case, no problem. She had a license to carry a concealed weapon, but rarely did. Her weapon of choice was a video camera. It helped that she could blend. Who would think the girl walking behind was recording your every movement using a camera hidden in her eyeglasses? She knew her way around the firing range, but men didn’t come to Angie because they wanted a tough-talking Sam Spade type. They came because they specifically wanted a female PI.
Women’s intuition might be a cliché, but the saying came about for some reason. Angie trusted her gut instinct. She could usually pick the cases where something shady was going on. Male clients, who made up a significant portion of her business, often felt a woman could best understand what they were going through. She respected the therapeutic aspect of the job. She understood that plenty of referrals had come because of her empathetic nature. Empathy was vital in cases of runaway children and affairs of the heart.
Many men had broken down in tears after seeing irrefutable evidence of their cheating wives. What they didn’t want was to blubber in the office of another man. Most male PIs would say things like, “Screw her,” and “You’re better off.” Angie was different. She would give them a hug. She would say, “This must be so hard for you. I’m sorry for what you’re going through. You’re a great guy and you deserve better.” It was just a nicer way of saying, “You’re better off,” but it was what these guys wanted and needed to hear.
In the case of Mike Webb, his concern about his wife proved valid. Angie had recorded the party gal out at bars with several different men while the children were home with a babysitter. At least, she had the decency to get a babysitter. The judge did not take kindly to the mom coming home sloshed late at night when she should have been with her children.
Mike had been so impressed with Angie and the work she did that he got his PI license and became a damn fine investigator. He was the first person she had thought to call to keep momentum going on the Nadine Jessup case. He had also been fielding Angie’s phone calls; in her time away from the office, he’d landed an insurance fraud investigation and two new cheating hearts. Since Mike’s focus was Nadine Jessup, the new assignments had gone to other & Associates members. Angie would oversee those investigations and collect a fair share of the fee, but her attention needed to be on Nadine.
“So I spoke with Sophia,” Mike said as he read from his notebook.
“Who is Sophia?” Angie asked.
“A friend of Nadine’s from school.”
“And?”
“And she hasn’t heard from her, and I don’t think she’s lying.”
Angie was inclined to believe him. She wouldn’t be speaking with Sophia herself. She might have a gut instinct about cases, but nobody could read body language better than Mike Webb.
“Anybody else?”
“Five other friends, two boys, three girls. All interviewed. Nobody had anything super revealing to share. Whatever issues Nadine faced at home, she kept tightlipped about them at school.”
“Anything new from the mother?”
“No. Just that she needs an intervention at some point. My ex could be her AA sponsor.”
“We’ll mention it to her after we find Nadine,” Angie said. “No need to put Mom on the defensive.”
The judge who’d granted Mike full custody of his children had ordered the mother into alcohol rehab. She’d been sober three years, and the turnaround had earned her joint custody.
“What about you, Bao?”
Both Mike and Bao had come to the funeral, but since her mother’s death, Angie had not had time to catch up on the Nadine case. They’d certainly had no time to discuss it at the reception. If there had been any big breaks, they would have called.
“The Facebook page has about two thousand likes,” Bao said. “Word is spreading.”
“My phone hasn’t rung with any tips, but still that’s a good number,” Angie said. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, the parse on the log files gave us something.”
“What?”
“New York, Philly, DC,” Mike said. “Nadine was on TripAdvisor. Yelp. ThrillList. Checking out those cities.”
Angie’s face lit up. “Well, that’s something. Keeps it to the eastern corridor. Makes sense. What did we do about it?”
“Mike’s been a hobo,” Bao said.
“And this is the busy season with bouncy houses, Ange,” Mike said.
“Bonus to you if we find her.”
“Hey!” Bao said. “Don’t I count?”
“Okay, each of you. Bonus. What did you do, Mike?”
“Basically, I canvassed. Three days. Philly to DC. I hit the malls, the big shopping areas, places that I know we can poster.”
“NCMEC hooked you up?”
“I had so many Nadine Jessup posters with me, you’d think she was going on a world tour. Plus I made some of my own. It was a good thing I went, too. A lot of the initial posters NCMEC put up had been taken down.”
“So we’ve chummed the waters. Good. Let’s follow up with the police in each city. Maybe we can narrow this down. NCMEC can help there, too. Mike, can you take point on that?”
“Sure thing.”
“Nothing on Nadine’s cell?” Angie said.
“No. That’s been quiet,” Bao said.