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Michelle looked up at me uncertainly. I kept my expression serious. “I’m going to go ahead and read you your Miranda warnings, but I’ll tell you right now I’m not looking for any information that’s going to get you into any more trouble.” I quickly ran through the required rights and Michelle dutifully signed the form.
“All right,” I said, as I put the form away. “Now that that’s out of the way, I have some questions to ask you about these.” I pulled out the pictures and the drawings from Greg Cerise’s house and spread them on the table.
Michelle leaned forward, breath catching in surprise. “Oh, my God. That’s me!” She touched a drawing that depicted a woman drawing water from a well. In the picture, the woman was dressed in a simple clinging shift, with her hair pulled back into a loose braid. She was beautiful and smiling, looking over her shoulder at something or someone not depicted in the drawing. Another picture showed the same woman, but this time she was belting on a sword and the expression on her face was harder, determined, but by no means defeated.
“Oh, wow. Wow. I almost look good.” Michelle slumped back down in the chair, clearly saddened by the reminder of how far she’d fallen.
“Yeah. You’re a pretty girl. And these are incredible drawings. What do you know about the artist?”
The girl shrugged. “Dunno. He was just this guy who hung out at the park and would give people like ten bucks or so to let him take their picture. He was always drawing or taking pictures.”
“Was there anyone else with him?”
Michelle shook her head. “Nah, not really. I mean, he talked to the people who hung out there, but he didn’t have anyone with him or anything.”
“Did you ever see any of the pictures he drew?”
“Yeah, it was some wild stuff. Comic book or something, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Yeah. It was cool. I talked to him once, y’know? He was nice. He told me that he was a lot better at drawing people with a picture to start from, not real good at drawing from just his imagination. He gave me twenty bucks and he took a bunch of pictures.” She looked down at the drawings. “Why are you asking me about him? Did he do something wrong by paying us? I never fucked him, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“No. I’m the lead investigator on the Symbol Man investigation.” I waited for it to process through the girl’s head.
“Oh, wow,” she breathed. “He’s the Symbol Man?”
“No. He was killed by the Symbol Man.” I put the drawings back in the folder, noting that the girl looked at them wistfully.
“Oh, my God. He’s dead?” To my surprise, tears began to well up in her eyes. “Oh, man, he was nice. That’s horrible.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Michelle sniffled and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “So why are you asking me all of this stuff about him if he’s dead?”
“Well, when we went into his house, we found a bunch of pictures and drawings—people he’d taken pictures of around town.” I kept my gaze on her. “It turns out that all the victims of the Symbol Man had been photographed and drawn by Greg already.”
The girl paled. “Wait. You mean—”
“Yes,” I said. “You’re at risk of being a victim.”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh, my God, you can’t let him get me!”
I reached out and put my hand on top of Michelle’s. “I won’t. That’s why I’m talking to you now. I know you don’t want to hear this, but jail is the safest place for you right now.”
Michelle stared at me, then shook her head. “I can’t stay here. It’s cold, and the food is awful, and all the other women in the holding cell are nasty.”
“Would you rather be slit open from throat to twat?” I said, forcefully blunt.
Michelle seemed to deflate. Her eyes filled with tears again. “This just sucks. Jail sucks.”
“I know,” I said, softening my tone. “I know, but give me just a bit more time. We’re close to this guy. Once we catch him, then you’re out of here.” I gave Michelle a wry smile. “And I’ll do my best to make sure that any time you spend in here will apply to your sentence.”
Her lip quivered. “Okay. But this still sucks.”
I stood and pressed the button to call the guard back. “I know, Michelle. But it beats being dead.”
I didn’t head back home or to the office. There was a conversation I’d been meaning to have for a while now, and time was running out to get all the answers.
