5. Angel #2
“I’ll cut to the chase. I’m sure I’ve seen you before, at Saguaro and at Carlsbad Caverns,” Daisy says. Her clasped palms on the table suggest she’s at ease, but the slight tick in her jaw says otherwise.
“And your point?” the man asks. “They don’t call it ‘America the Beautiful’ for nothing. The only way to know if that slogan is true is to get out of the house and see it for yourself. So, I did.”
Daisy smiles at him. “It is a beautiful country, and I agree with you. More people should see the wonders of God’s creation instead of holing up in their homes to binge-watch the latest craze on TV or staying glued to their phones.
Good on you for being the adventurous type.
Have you been to any other national parks?
Oh, say like, Mesa Verde, Yellowstone, or the North Cascades in the past few years? ”
Dottie comes over to deliver a plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, and home fries. When she places a stack of pancakes in front of the man, she tells us, “Your food is getting cold. Would you like me to bring it over to you?”
“No,” the man says, answering for us. “They’re done here.”
Well then, that’s that… for now.
I stand up and wait for Daisy, but she’s not finished yet. She leans against the table and brings her face close to him. “I’m curious what drew you to Crater Lake. Of all the national parks, why did you choose to visit this one?”
The man isn’t intimidated, nor does he blink when he answers her. “I imagine for the same reason you were drawn here. Now please leave and let me eat my breakfast in peace.”
We acquiesce to his request, heading back to our table where our food is waiting for us. Vinny is sopping up the last of his egg yolks with his toast when we return. “Find out anything useful?”
Daisy drops into the booth with her jaw tight and fists clenched. “He’s our guy. I’m sure of it.”
I dig into my omelet, which would be better if it were hot. “Until we have definitive proof, there’s nothing we can do. Though I’d say he’s certainly a person of interest.”
Pushing her plate away because she’s no longer hungry, Daisy adds, “I’ll call Owen when we get back to the cabin. He should be able to access the cameras in the area and get facial recognition. I would take a picture on my phone, but I don’t want to give away our hand.”
Vinny laughs. “You already did that by confronting the man. How did he take it?”
“With a surly attitude and a penchant for smart remarks,” Daisy replies. “He’s not intimidated by us, that’s for sure.”
I lean back against the booth and glance toward the man.
“Maybe he doesn’t have a reason to be nervous.
If he’s our guy, then he’s been doing this long enough to know how to evade the authorities.
Daisy, why do you believe it’s him? Besides the obvious connection of him showing up at the other locations and him being here before the abduction has taken place. ”
Daisy glances toward the man at the other end of the diner before dropping her voice to just above a whisper.
“As you know, I never saw my captor’s face.
He went to great lengths to ensure it. I think that’s one reason why October works.
It’s cold enough, even in the desert parks in the Southwest, that a sock hat or ski mask wouldn’t seem out of place.
” She waves her hand in the air dismissively.
“That’s pure speculation on my part and bears no relevance.
However, the man who took me sounded young, like early 20s young.
I remember thinking that every time he spoke because his voice had a ‘sexy’ quality to it, reminding me of my high school science teacher, Mr. Brooks. ”
Fanning herself, as if every inch of her skin is flushed with warmth, she adds, “He was a new teacher, fresh out of school himself and smoking hot!”
Focusing on the fact that she was enamored with a teacher at least ten years her senior, and the pang of jealousy at the thought, I lose sight of what that has to do with the current topic of conversation.
“The sound of your captor’s voice was ‘sexy.’ I’m not sure how that…
or where that rabbit trail leads. You were 14 years old, and that’s what you focused on? ”
“Don’t be judgy,” Daisy retorts. “I was 14 and hormonally challenged at the time. Who wasn’t at that age?
Trust me, I wasn’t romanticizing a relationship with my abductor.
It was simply something I noted. Having that much time to yourself in a dark cave gives a person ample opportunity to dwell on anything and everything.
The point is, I figured my captor was around the same age as my teacher.
That was two decades ago, which would put him in the mid-to-late 40s, early 50s at most.”
“That narrows it down to roughly ten million men in the United States alone,” Vinny says.
Daisy shifts in her seat as she takes Vinny’s assessment to be negative. Jumping to her defense and hoping to put her at ease, I add my two cents. “In a ten-mile radius, those numbers are much lower. It’s something we should consider.”
The grateful smile Daisy gives me offsets the scowl Vinny throws my way.
Then he has to throw a wrench into the discussion.
“Angel, you know as well as I do that the sound of someone’s voice isn’t an indicator of age.
I’ve heard 60-year-old men sound prepubescent, and 16-year-old boys with voices deep enough to rival the Grand Canyon. ”
Daisy presses her lips together and looks out the window before answering.
“You’re probably right, but my gut says otherwise.
You weren’t there, Vinny. You didn’t hear the way he talked, see the movements of his body under the lantern light, or see the terrain outside. It wasn’t for the faint of heart.”
“I’m almost 65 and still in great shape,” Vinny replies. “Daisy, please note that I’m only playing devil’s advocate, not dismissing your gut feeling.”
Her fingers tighten around the edge of the table. “It kind of feels like you are.”
“Well, I’m not. All I’m saying is that we can’t rule out other suspects because you believe the person was on the younger side back then.”
“Vinny’s not wrong,” I tell Daisy. “We won’t ignore your gut instincts, I promise. We simply won’t limit our investigation to them. Fair enough?”
Daisy studies me for a second before giving a small nod. “Fair enough.”