“Look at that,” she replied, with some glee. “The home address I have for her puts her just a couple blocks from this work address.”
“A couple blocks?” Rodney asked.
“Right.” Kate nodded. “So what are the chances that she was actually picked up at that location?”
“Pretty damn good, I would say. But she’s wouldn’t have been held at the same spot,” Rodney noted. “All high-end businesses in that area.”
She frowned, nodded, and added, “We need to talk to her boss.”
“We do, indeed.” Rodney hopped up, looked at her, and grinned. “You and your coffee.”
“I know,” Kate admitted, as she held her coffee cup. “Let’s give it ten, and then we’ll go.”
He nodded approvingly, sat down again, while picking up his own coffee and taking a sip. “According to the parents, there was no sign of a current relationship.”
“Hmm, she was pretty, a model. Surely a beautiful woman like that had dates,” Kate added quietly.
Rodney tilted his head. “The parents did say she had a bad breakup about a year or so ago. They gave me the name—a Tyler Bjornsson—but, as far as they knew, the two had no contact ever since. So, a bad breakup, but not necessarily a bad aftermath.”
“Possibly, yes.” She typed in the name. “Did they give you any contact information?” she asked.
“Nope.” Rodney shook his head.
She looked at her screen and frowned. “Looks like he’s a day trader in Vancouver.… And look at that. His office is in the same building where she worked.”
“Not the same company though, right?”
She shook her head. “No, not the same company.” Needing his contact information, she wrote down what floor he was on and added, “Maybe we can talk to him at the same time.”
“Sounds good.”
She tossed back the rest of her coffee and mulled over the emails that continued to pour into her inbox. “I don’t know why people send emails all the time,” she muttered. “Didn’t they get the message?”
“What message was that?” he asked in surprise.
“I’m on a case,” she snapped, her eyes glaring, as she turned to look at him. “I don’t have time for the rest of this shit.”
“What shit is that?”
“Plenty of review stuff coming up.” She groaned. “And paperwork to fill out now that I am well past the three-month probationary period.”
“You didn’t do that yet?”
“Have I had time yet?” she countered.
He grinned. “Well, you might try telling them that but don’t expect them to listen.”
She groaned again, louder this time. “Okay, fine. I’ll take it with me and work on it at home.”
“How many times have you put it off?”
She grimaced at him, shaking her head.
He held up his hands. “Fine, fine, don’t talk to me,” he surrendered, “but you really need to deal with this review shit when it comes in. That way it’s done, and you don’t have to worry about it again.”
“Yeah, until next year. Well, shit is exactly like that, isn’t it? You get rid of it once, but you turn around the next day, and you have to handle it again.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then he burst out laughing.