Chapter 12
Twenty minutes later, Renz clicked his right blinker and turned in at the gas station. He drove to the side of the building, parked, and killed the engine.
Before we got out, I had to air what was on my mind. “I just thought of something, Renz.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“What if Beth left with the guy in the white car, did whatever they agreed on, then walked away? She might have met up with someone else after him. I doubt that all johns drop off the ladies where they picked them up. They aren’t a taxi service. Beth could have hitched a ride or got an Uber.”
“True enough, but we’ll never know that.” Renz pointed at the few women strutting their stuff on the sidewalk. “Once she got into that car and left the safety of the gas station’s bright lights, nobody saw her again.”
“Her face could be broadcast on a news segment indicating that she went missing but nothing else. Mentioning she’s dead would tell the killer that some form of evidence washed ashore. That could be enough to cause him to skip town.”
“We’ll mention that to Bill since it’ll be on them to take her case further.”
After exiting the car, we walked to the front door and entered the building. We approached the counter and asked to speak with the manager.
The young lady smiled. “You’re the second man and woman who asked for the manager today. Are you cops too?”
“No, we’re the FBI.” I exposed my badge and smiled back at her.
“Wow! Okay, I’ll text Frank to come out. He’s the owner.”
“What’s your name, hon?”
“Tiffany.”
“Tiffany, do any of the ladies out front ever come inside?”
“Well, yeah. Probably a lot more at night, but I only work during the day. They come in to use the bathroom but have to buy something first. Otherwise, they’re considered loitering.”
“Gotcha. Do you know any of them personally? Maybe someone who’s nice to you?”
“Um, I’d say Candy and Torrie. I doubt that’s their real names, but they’re out there now. They’re day workers.” Tiffany walked to the window and pointed. “See the lady in the pink skirt?”
I followed her finger. “Uh-huh.”
“That’s Candy. The lady standing next to her with the black hair in a topknot is Torrie.”
“Perfect. Do you know Beth?”
“No, but people are saying that she’s missing.”
“Unfortunately, that’s true, but we’re here to help the PD. Maybe we’ll ask questions they didn’t think of.”
Tiffany returned to the counter and picked up her phone. “Frank says he’s on the way.”
I gave her a thank-you nod. It took only a minute before the man I assumed was Frank walked out. He extended his hand, shook ours, and asked how he could help the FBI.
Since I had been doing most of the talking—questioning women was always easier with a female agent—Renz took the lead.
“Good to meet you, Frank, and we appreciate you giving us your time. We know the PD was here earlier and viewed your Saturday night camera footage of the ladies out front.”
He sighed. “It does get problematic at times.”
“I’m sure it does. We know one of the ladies was picked up by someone in a white car but never returned, and nobody has heard from her since. The question we have is how long do you keep your footage?”
“Indefinitely in the cloud. That’s to cover our butts whether somebody at the gas pump, inside the store, or out on the sidewalk runs into problems or causes trouble. The actual cameras hold a week’s worth of footage before we archive it in the cloud.”
“Hmm.”
It was obvious that Renz was wondering if a john would use a night worker’s service more than once a month or once in a blue moon. He turned to me. “It wouldn’t hurt to look at the entire week. Chances are he’s seen Beth before.”
“Fine with me.” I turned to Frank since there was no way we would sit there, scroll through the footage a week back, and watch it while intruding on Frank’s workspace. “Are you able to forward the entire week of footage to my email?”
Frank scratched his cheek. “Yeah, I’m sure I can do that.”
“Awesome. That’ll make everything easier for all of us.” I told Frank that we were going to speak with a few of the ladies out front. We would be low-key so we wouldn’t attract attention and cause an uproar by our presence.
I gave Frank my card, and we thanked him and left. I bought two iced teas at the counter before heading to the door.
“Thanks, Tiffany, for everything.”
Outside, I approached Candy and Torrie while Renz hung back. I did my best to seem nonthreatening. “Hi, ladies. Can I ask you a few quick questions?”
Candy looked me up and down. “Are you a cop?”
“I’m helping the cops look for Beth. She disappeared from this spot Saturday night.”
“We heard,” Torrie said.
“Do you ladies know her?” I made sure to speak of Beth in present tense so my conversation wouldn’t give away that she was dead.
“Barely,” Torrie said. “She always worked the night shift. Honestly, I think it’s way too dangerous to work at night. Crazy people who are looking for nothing but trouble come out when the sun goes down.”
“I hear that. How about during the day? Is there a white sedan that comes around every so often?”
Candy lit a cigarette and took a drag before speaking. “White trucks, white cars, white vans. You name it, they stop by.”
“So none that come by regularly?”
“Not really.” Torrie looked around before continuing, then in a low voice, she told me a secret. “But if a john takes a liking to one of us in particular, we’ll arrange something on the side. Maybe give him a discount if our boss doesn’t know about it.”
“Your pimp?”
“Yeah, him.”
“Is anyone else close to Beth besides Leah?”
They both shrugged.
I handed each of them my card and a twenty. “Thanks for your help, and if anything comes to mind, my number is on the back.”
Candy flipped the card over. “You’re an FBI agent? Why are you involved with Beth being missing?”
“Just in case someone took her that’s done this before or plans to do it again. You ladies stay safe and watch your backs. Day or night, a crazy guy is still crazy.”
I walked over to Renz, who stood in the shade against the building and slurped his iced tea through his straw.
“Anything of value?”
“Nope. Day workers don’t hang out with night workers. Acquainted, yes, but that’s about it.”
“So no names or frequent sightings of a particular white car?”
“Unfortunately not. Let’s go talk to Leah.”
We climbed into the car and headed west on Greenfield. “I gave them my card, but I don’t expect to get a call.” Just then, my phone rang.
Renz chuckled. “Maybe your luck is about to change.”
I fished my phone out of my pocket and took a look at the screen. “It’s Bill. Maybe he found out something from the marina.” I tapped the green button and set my phone to Speaker. “Hey, Bill. I have you on Speaker with Lorenzo. What’s new?”
“I wanted to update you guys as far as memberships for the marina slips. There are three men registered who have white cars. We’ve checked the plate numbers and their names on the DMV database.”
“And?” Renz asked.
“And how do we know if any of them are the killer or not? Anybody can be a killer. They don’t have to look a certain way.”
I shook my head. “Who went through the gate on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday?”
“All three of them.”
“Then go interview all three of them. Call us when you know more. Oh, what kind of cars did they own? That should help determine if it was any of them on the gas station video.”
“One was a Miata, one was a Lexus LS, and one was a Cadillac CT5.”
“Scratch the Miata. The other two are possibilities. We’ll let you know when the tech geeks call us.”
I hung up and looked at Renz. “How did Bill ever become a detective?”
“His wife and Greenburg’s wife are cousins.”
I huffed. “That’s really a stupid reason.”