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But she didn’t want to admit being weak. That a bunch of girls had gotten the better of her and that while she’d saved her sister, she’d been the one who’d taken the brunt of the blame.
“Get in. I’ll give you a ride. I’m going to an appointment that I’m early for, so as long as you’re not more than a few miles from here it won’t be a problem. I had a daughter at your school so they know me. I’m not a stranger.”
She wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Her parents would go nuts if they found out she’d been getting rides from strangers. But then, they’d go nuts if they found out she’d been sent home, so she was in trouble regardless. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was going to take ages to get home now.
A ride was better than a long, hot walk.
“Get in. It’s not right to walk around looking this messed up, you’ll get people worried.”
She hesitated as she stared at the empty road ahead of her. “I guess,” she said.
“You want a soda? I brought one for my daughter, but you’re welcome to it,” he said.
He rummaged in a bag and handed her the can. It felt icy cold in her hand.
“Thanks,” she said.
Perhaps she was being an idiot not to take this ride, since he’d offered her a drink and was being kind. And he was a local, it wasn’t like he wasn’t from around here. She could see from his car’s number plate, and the stickers in the back window. He was local.
She sipped the soda and felt a lot better. It was cold and sweet, and made her face feel cooler. And it was a long way home.
“Okay, thanks,” she said. “I’ll take a ride.”
He opened the door for her. Chanel hesitated once more.
Something inside her was whispering a warning. That this was too convenient, the guy was too nice. Other girls had disappeared recently, although they had clearly been grabbed off the street by a predator or psycho, and not by a normal citizen like this guy was.
Even so, if she hadn’t been so hurt and battered by the events of the morning, she might have thought again.
But as it was, she didn’t think things could get much worse than they already were.
The car was cool, with the AC blasting. Music was playing. Music she liked.
Without thinking too much more, she got in and closed the door.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
May saw that Kerry was as excited as she was about this new lead. If Mr. Jessop, the team manager, was genuinely linked to both the victims, this would surely mean they had their killer.
The question was how they were going to prove it.
“We each have a job to do,” Kerry decided, when they convened in the police department’s back office. “I’m going to base myself here, go into the FBI databases and do some groundwork, finding out more about this team manager and his links to the victims. Adams will check the bank statements to make sure the McGees were telling the truth about that payout. And you and Owen could go and check the camera records at the sports center to see if we can pick up footage of Emily Hobbs getting into that car.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” May said.
She felt relieved that she would be getting out with her feet on the ground. And amped that once again, she could partner up with Owen.
Owen, too, looked eager to be setting out on this mission.
“Explain to me again,” he said as soon as he got in the car. “Who is Mr. Jessop? I didn’t overhear all of that last interview with the McGees.”
“He manages a few of the biggest sponsored junior and young adult football teams. According to Callum, he had interactions with both Shawna and Emily in the past couple of weeks. Callum said the last time he saw Emily, she was getting into a car with him.”
“That’s significant. Do you think he’s some kind of a predator? I mean, being involved with junior teams would give him a lot of opportunities if he was that kind of person.”
“I don’t know. But we first need to check the footage, and then we need to question Mr. Jessop about it. Something definitely seems irregular here.”
“It does,” Owen agreed.
