Pressure Point (The Extractor Series Book 3)

by Mike Ryan

  “I agree,” Nicole said. “If it was something she was planning, she’d have cleaned that account out. There was three thousand dollars in there. That’s not chump change.”

  “Eric said they got no hits on anything with her name on it.”

  “Uh, yeah, same here. Like I said on her financial stuff. Also, can’t find anything with her passport, driver’s license, social security number, nothing.”

  “So she hasn’t opened up any accounts with her SSN or license or anything?”

  Nicole shook her head. “Not that I can find.”

  Bridge sat down next to his girlfriend and picked up the small piece of paper that Sharon Fester had given him. He stared at what was written on it. Friday. Six hundred fourteen. Ten forty-five. Nicole could already guess some of what he was thinking.

  “Already did some checking on that. There was no flight that left New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, or any of the other surrounding states on the Friday she went missing that was scheduled to leave at 10:45.”

  “What about flight 614?”

  “No such flight number.”

  “Bus stop?”

  Nicole spent the next few minutes punching the keys on her laptop to try to find the information they needed. The shake of her head told her partner all he needed to know.

  “It’s not it.”

  Bridge held the paper in his hand and continued staring at it. “Highway or street?”

  “Wouldn’t make much sense for it to be a highway. Who writes down the highway number without the actual address?”

  “Unless she already knew the address.”

  “Then she’d also already know the highway and wouldn’t have to write it down.”

  Bridge nodded, agreeing with her point. “What else is there? Boat? Dock 614 maybe?”

  “Wouldn’t you write down the boat name?”

  “Probably.”

  “So it’s something else. Who would she be meeting with? Friends? Boyfriend? She was single, no steady boyfriend, and her friends are at a loss too.”

  “They haven’t been shown this yet,” Bridge said, holding out the piece of paper. “Maybe one of them knows something about 614 at 10:45.”

  “You know, maybe that’s a room number. Like at an apartment or a hotel. Maybe she was supposed to meet someone on Friday at 10:45 in room 614.”

  “Could be. Maybe you should check all the hotels within driving distance from here and see which ones have a room 614.”

  “You know how long that’s gonna take? And what good would it do? She didn’t book the room. It would’ve flashed on her credit card or bank statement,” Nicole said.

  “Then we need to start knocking on some doors and figure out which one of them knows about this.”

  “What makes you think one of them does?”

  “Just a guess,” Bridge replied. “I’m hoping one of them will recognize what those numbers mean. It’s time we get out there and start shaking some trees and see what falls loose.”

  4

  Bridge had gone down to the Renard Agency that represented Evelyn Fester and handled all of her bookings. It wasn’t as big of a building as he thought it would be, though it couldn’t be classified as small either. Upon walking into the seventh floor of the twelve-story building, Bridge was greeted by a receptionist and a waiting area. There were two other people ahead of him. He guessed they were both there looking for work, judging by their good looks and tall and thin frames. He looked at each of the pretty women and smiled as he walked past them to get to the receptionist’s desk.

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  “Uh, yeah, I’d like to talk to Janet Renard,” Bridge asked.

  The woman, who appeared to be in her forties, looked confused as she started typing into the computer. She also was very pretty. Bridge guessed it must have been a job requirement.

  “Do you have an appointment, sir?”

  “I do not.”

  “I’m afraid Ms. Renard is not seeing any walk-ins today. She is very busy.”

  Bridge turned around, noticing eight empty chairs. “Uh, yeah, I can see that. I’m not here for a job or anything.”

  “Are you an agent?”

  “Well, in a way.”

  The woman smiled. “Ahh, well, let me give you one of our cards.” She grabbed a business card and started writing on it. “Our email address is on it. Just send two headshots of your client, one smiling and one not smiling. Then two full body shots as well. We’ll take a look at them and then if we’re interested, we’ll contact you.”

  Bridge grabbed the business card once it was handed to him. He looked at it briefly and then shoved it in his pocket. “Yeah, I’m not that kind of agent.”

  “You’re not? What other kind is there?”

  “The FBI kind.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m looking into the disappearance of Evelyn Fester.”

  The receptionist suddenly looked sad. “I’m still so heartbroken over her disappearance.”

  “It’s a tragedy.”

  “It really is. I thought the police, and you guys had given up on the case, though? That’s what I heard.”

  “For the most part, that’s true,” Bridge said. “I’m looking into it again.”

  “I hope you can find her.”

  “So do I. That’s why I really need to talk to Ms. Renard, if I may. I’ve got a new lead, and I need to talk to her about it.”

  “Oh, absolutely. Let me get her for you.” The receptionist immediately picked up the phone. “Ms. Renard? I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s an FBI agent here to discuss Evelyn Fester.” She then put the phone down. “She’ll be right out.”

  “Thank you.”

  Bridge took a few steps away from the desk and stood near the wall, looking at a few pictures of some of the models. Less than a minute later, a door next to the receptionist’s desk opened, a tall brunette woman in her fifties appearing. She walked over to Bridge, looking him over.

  She smiled at him as she stuck her hand out to shake his. “FBI agents are getting hunkier these days.”

  Bridge grinned as he shook her hand. “Ms. Renard?”

  “Call me Janet, please. Every time I get called Ms., I feel so old.”

  “Was wondering if I could talk to you about Evelyn Fester?”

  “Sure. Let’s step into my office.”

  Renard led Bridge through the door, then walked down a short hallway, past a couple of doors where the rooms were used for photo shoots, as well as a few offices. Renard’s office was at the very end of the hall on the left-hand side. They walked inside the brightly lit room, where more pictures of models were glued to the walls on all four sides. Renard walked around her desk and sat down, Bridge doing the same on the other side of it.

  “So, what can I help you with?”

  “Well, I’m looking into the case again, taking it over from the other agents, and I was wondering what you could tell me about the last few weeks that you saw her before she went missing.”

  “I’m not sure what you want me to say. Everything seemed normal. No issues that I could tell.”

  “Did she ever seem nervous or anxious? Like maybe she was worried about something? Acting different somehow, maybe not in what she said, but in what she did, how she moved, different routine, anything like that?”

  Renard took a few moments to think about it. “No, not that I can remember. Like I said, everything seemed normal. She seemed upbeat, happy. Her career was going in an upward direction.”

  “In regard to her career, did she have any jobs lined up when she disappeared?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, she had two shoots lined up for the following week.”

  “What kind of jobs were they?”

  “Just photo shoots for magazines and one for a newspaper print ad for a department store.”

  “Was that normal?” Bridge asked.

  “Oh yes. Evelyn was very pretty. And easy to work with. Photographers, makeup, assistants, everyo
ne loved dealing with her. She was very down-to-earth, unlike some you can meet in this industry.”

  “She do the runway stuff?”

  “No, she didn’t really like that. I mean, she’s done it a couple times, but that wasn’t where she was most comfortable. She was most at ease under the lights, in front of a cameraman. That’s what she liked most.”

  “Are you aware of her seeing someone? Someone new maybe?”

  “Like a boyfriend?”

  Bridge smiled. “Or a girlfriend if that applies.”

  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, with how attractive she was, she had plenty of offers and opportunities. But I’m not aware of her seeing anyone when she went… missing. As far as I know, she was single at the time.”

  “No one at all? Even if they weren’t quote unquote attached? Maybe they were just sex buddies and nothing more?”

  “No, that wasn’t really her style. There are some in this profession who will hop into any bed with anyone who has a mouth, especially if they think it will help to advance their career.”

  “Let me guess. Not her style either?”

  Renard shook her head. “It was not. She wasn’t like that.”

  “Do you think you knew her pretty well?”

  “Yeah, I’d say so. She’s been with me since she got into this business four years ago. She’s spent time at my house, along with her sister, and I think I know her pretty well.”

  “Any issues with her sister that you know of?” Bridge asked, not expecting that there would be.

  “Oh no. Those two girls loved each other. They were all each other had. They didn’t have extended family. Just each other.”

  “And an occasional boyfriend?”

  “Every now and then, like any young girl would. But nothing that lasted for either of them.”

  “Any of those guys violent, strange, wanting to get in between how close the two of them were?”

  “No, I can’t imagine there would be. They dated nice guys from what I understand. I even met a few of them. You know, sometimes they’d come around while Evelyn was in a shoot or something.”

  “What about her sister? She never got into the business?”

  “Sharon? No, this business isn’t for her. She’s a cute girl, pretty, but not model material. Plus, you can tell she wouldn’t be comfortable in this line of work.”

  “Why’s that?” Bridge asked.

  “Well, sometimes you’re gonna have to show off a little skin in this business, and Sharon just wasn’t comfortable with that. I even asked her once if she wanted to do a photo shoot, you know, just to see if maybe we might have had a late-blooming flower, if you know what I mean. But she wasn’t interested. You could always tell by the way she dressed, anyway. Very conservative. You can’t be modest in this business.”

  “What about rival agencies? Think maybe one of them was trying to steal her away or something?”

  Renard immediately nixed that idea. “No. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there were plenty of agencies that would have liked to have had her. Like I said, her star was rising. And there were a few who took some runs at her, promising her certain things, but she always rebuffed them. She was comfortable here.”

  “Why do you think that was?”

  “She trusted me. Besides all that, if you’re thinking one of them might have kidnapped her or something, what good would that do? If you’re interested in Evelyn, it’s to show her off and help make her a star, not shove her in the back of a trunk or something and stash her away for six months. There’d be no point to it.”

  “Guess you’re right at that. So let me ask you, what do you think happened to her?”

  Renard looked down at her desk and shook her head. “God only knows.”

  “You don’t think it’s likely she would have just run off somewhere by herself? Away from all this? Maybe she was tired of it or something?”

  “I can’t imagine she would have. And let’s be honest, her star was on the rise, but she wasn’t Marilyn Monroe or something. She didn’t exactly have the weight of the world on her shoulders and a lot of outside pressure like a superstar. Maybe in a few years but not now.”

  “So she had no enemies that you know of?”

  “Listen, in this business, every other model out there is potentially an enemy. If someone else is getting a gig, that means that you’re not. There’s a lot of competition out there. But even saying that, I can’t imagine anyone having a big enough problem with her where they would have done something to her. Like I said, she was a nice girl. Not pompous or arrogant or full of herself like some people. There are some in this business who are easy to dislike. And there are some who are easy to root for. Evelyn was in that second category. Everyone pulled for her.”

  “Well, if she didn’t leave on her own, then not everyone was,” Bridge said. He then reached into his pocket and removed the piece of paper Sharon Fester had given to him. He put it on the desk for Renard to see. “Does any of that look familiar to you?”

  Renard picked it up and looked at it. “No, I can’t say that it does. What does it mean?”

  “I don’t know. I was hoping you might recognize something. Maybe it was a photo shoot at a specific time or location or something?”

  “No. Six hundred fourteen. I have no idea what that means. Doesn’t sound like any lingo that we use.”

  “Thought so. Just figured I’d ask.”

  “I really hope you can find her. Alive. I really was fond of her.”

  “Well, that’s what we’re hoping for too,” Bridge said. “Can you tell me who else she might be especially close to? Another model, photographer, anyone? Someone she talked to a lot or hung out with? Other than her sister.”

  “Um, the only one that jumps out at me is Alexis.”

  “Alexis? Who is she?”

  “She’s another model here. Very similar to Evelyn in almost every respect. Similar values, personalities, beliefs, things like that.”

  “She been here long?”

  “Actually, she and Evelyn came on within a few weeks of each other four years ago. Maybe that’s why they bonded with each other. They were both new, learned the business together, succeeded and failed together, and like I said, very similar in their personalities. Both down-to-earth, humble girls.”

  “Her star on the rise too?”

  “Yeah, not quite as much as Evelyn’s. Evelyn has a little bit more of that it factor. But Alexis is on an upward path as well.”

  Renard handed the paper back to Bridge.

  “She wouldn’t happen to be here right now, would she?”

  “No. She’s probably at home I would imagine.”

  “Where might that be?”

  Renard started typing on her computer, then grabbed a Post-it off her desk and wrote down the address. Once she gave it to Bridge, he looked at it to make sure he could understand the handwriting. He put it in his pocket along with the other paper, then stood up.

  “Well, I want to thank you for your time. If there’s anything else I need I’ll be in touch.”

  Bridge had just gotten to the door when Renard had another question for him.

  “What are the odds now?” Renard asked. “That you find her? It’s been six months.”

  “I’ll be honest. They’re not very good.”

  5

  Bridge stood in front of the entrance of the upscale apartment building that Alexis lived in. Before going in, he got a call from his partner to see if he had learned anything yet.

  “How’d you make out?” Nicole asked.

  “Ahh, whole lotta nothing so far.”

  “Figures.”

  “Well, I shouldn’t say nothing yet. Renard did give me the name of a girl Evelyn was friends with. Another model named Alexis.”

  “Yeah, she’s in the file. The FBI and the police talked to her. They both concluded she didn’t know anything.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s worth a shot, I guess. Maybe something will click now that didn’t then. Anything com
e up on your end yet?”

  “Uh, maybe.”

  “Uh, wanna expand on that?” Bridge said.

  “Uh, no. How’s that?”

  “Don’t like it.”

  “Didn’t think you would. But I’m working on something. Want to be sure before I say anything.”

  “Serious? Since when did you ever need to get all the facts before saying something or jumping to conclusions?”

  Nicole laughed. “Fair enough. I’ve been checking missing person reports.”

  “I sense this is going somewhere.”

  “You asked me to talk, so would you let me talk?”

  “Proceed.”

  “There are two other missing person reports from the same night that Evelyn went missing.”

  “Not to be a contrarian, but there are people who go missing every day. Doesn’t make it a conspiracy theory,” Bridge said.

  “But two other models? Both from New York?”

  “OK, so that is… interesting.”

  “I think it’s a little bit more than interesting.”

  “Very interesting?”

  “Could be even more than that,” Nicole replied.

  “You know what I’m thinking?”

  “I’m already there.”

  “Where?”

  “Where you’re going.”

  “How do you know where I’m going?” Bridge asked.

  “Because I know you.”

  “You don’t know where I’m heading.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  “You do not.”

  “I’m telling you, I know,” Nicole said.

  “And I’m telling you, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

  “I do.”

  “OK. Prove it.”

  “Sure.”

  “So what am I thinking?”

  “You were thinking that maybe I should start checking other states besides New York to see if there’s anyone else matching the same MO.” There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Are you there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So?”

  “OK, so maybe you do know what I’m thinking. Some of the time.”

  “Some of the time?” Nicole said with a laugh. “Still not ready to believe I know you better than you think I do?”