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“Oh, she sometimes has a little wine. Just… not when she’s out. She likes to keep her wits in public. If we’re hanging out at her place or mine, she’s got no problem with it.”
“So, she’s wary of her personal safety,” I add. Hmm. Scott might have an overly ‘innocent and angelic’ opinion of his sister. Then again, the occasional glass of wine is hardly heavy drinking. Doesn’t seem like he’d have reason to lie about that. It’s a minor detail that may or may not be relevant.
“Yes. Very.” Heather nods. “Which is really making it strange.”
“Making what strange?”
“The way she just started talking to that guy.” Heather gives me this ‘can you believe it’ stare. “It was our turn to go to the bar to pick up refills. Gem and I head over there, give the bartender the order… we’re standing there waiting for the drinks when this dude just walks up like he’s known us for years.”
“Smooth? Overly suave?”
Heather bites her lower lip. “No, not really. Just… casual. I’ve been hit on before. Usually, the guys are either arrogant or anxious. This dude gave off this air like he wouldn’t freak out or really care what we said. But he also didn’t feel arrogant.”
“Weird.”
“Seriously.” She blinks. “Anyway, he looks right at Gemma and says something like ‘I don’t usually approach random women, but something about you drew me in.’”
I whistle. “Wow.”
“I know, right?” Heather rolls her eyes. “I still don’t know how she fell for it. Such a cheesy line. Would you believe she ended up leaving with him?”
“That night? Right from the bar?”
“Well, restaurant,” says Heather. “But yeah. They stood at the bar talking for like fifteen minutes. She comes back to the table like nothing’s wrong. When we finish up with the office party and everyone’s leaving, she’s like ‘Hey, I’m going with this dude, see you Monday.’”
“Just like that?”
“Yeah.”
“Anything else?”
“Something about taking a weekend camping trip with the guy.” Heather puffs at a strand of hair hanging in front of her eye. “Oh, and she asked me to feed her cats.”
“What can you tell me about him?”
“Not much. Can’t even remember what his name was. Trust me, the police asked, and I just don’t remember.” She leans forward, arms on the table. “I mean, he wasn’t super handsome. Not ugly either. Average to cute, I guess. I’m pretty suspicious when strange men walk up and try to talk to me, but this guy seemed harmless. Shit!” Heather covers her mouth as she gasps. “Is he like a killer or something? Is that why he’s so good at talking to women? I mean, he seemed to know just what to say to Gemma.”
I raise both hands in a ‘slow down’ gesture. “There isn’t enough information for me to say yet.” While I do suspect as much, there’s no point fanning the flames of this woman’s anxiety and guilt.
“Did you have any contact with Gemma after Norbert’s?” I ask.
“Couple of text messages. She mentioned the guy had a vacation house. Lots of ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this’ type comments, and she sounded exited. Anxious, but excited.”
“Nothing that made you worry? Anything that might’ve been a coded plea for help?”
Heather stares into nowhere for a moment, then shakes her head. “No. If the guy did something to her, she didn’t see it coming.”
I stare down at my pad. “So, Gemma, a social introvert, goes to an office party at a place she wouldn’t normally bother with, meets a strange guy and leaves with him that very night for a weekend camping trip.”
“Sounds so crazy when you put it like that.” Heather’s lip quivers. “I should never have pressed her into going.”
“It’s not your fault. You had no way to know anything would happen.” I reach over and pat her hand. “People go to office parties all the time and it’s fine.”
“The police haven’t said anything.” She peers up at me. “Are you a cop?”
“No. Private investigator. Her brother Scott’s asked me to help since the police aren’t able to find her.”
Heather starts to nod at me but ends up shaking her head. “I still can’t believe she left with him. I never thought she could be that stupid… or that lonely.”
