Savage Noir

Chapter 29 The FBI Field Office was on Golden Gate Avenue , just northeast of the Civic Center area. After I went through the metal detector, I looked up to see Agent John Driscoll waiting for me. He was wearing his brown suit, the same one he always wore—at least when he was with me. His dark curly hair was shorter than I remembered.           He was checking me out, too.  “Good to see you, Kelly.”          “It’s been a while,” I said.          We shook hands quickly.          “Run into trouble?”          It was only 2:10.  Or 14:10 for Driscoll.          “I took the J Church and—”                   “No wonder,” he chuckled.          The “J” was the most unreliable line in the city.           We were walking briskly.          We passed the room where they had kept me overnight a year ago.  Now we stood outside an office door. It was unmarked. He knocked twice.          “Come in.” A woman’s voice.           Driscoll ushered me in to see Special Agent Margaret

Chapter 28 After the meeting with Joy Rollins , I felt like I was on a roll. I called Amy Feingold’s number.  After two rings she answered. I told her who I was and why I wanted to talk to her.           She hesitated.          “Miss Feingold?”          “Amy. Sorry, I just flashed on something.           Like her friend’s corpse lying on a sidewalk?          “Would you mind repeating that?” she asked.          “Like I said, I’m trying to find out who killed your friend, Katherine. And I’m a friend of Mike Rollins,” I quickly added.  If you want to confirm that I can give you his number.”          “I know his number.”          “Excellent. Could we meet somewhere tomorrow? You know, in a coffee shop or—”          Silence.           Too soon! Shit! “I don’t think so. I don’t know you.” Don’t push it. “In that case maybe you can help me out now. The day of the terrible dust storm…” Silence. Then a tiny gasp. “What about it?  My whole life changed that day.”

Chapter 27 On my way back to see Joy Rollins,  I quickly reviewed what Terry and I knew (which was damn little), starting with the Death Valley location. We figured that the killer probably drove a windowless panel truck or possibly a camper. It seemed possible that the girl in the café knew the killer. We thought the only way Katherine would climb aboard a stranger’s van was by invitation only. She may have had some some dope on her and mentioned it to her new acquaintance. Maybe there was dope in the van or camper. Katherine was looking to get high, perhaps.  The desert was a classic place for that. Maybe it felt safer with her new “friend,” away from Amy, who only got loaded with beer. And she and Amy were at odds at the time.          Snatching someone in broad daylight would be tricky. Too many campers roaming around that time of the morning. And some of them could see things from inside their own vehicles. She went in voluntarily, I decided.          But then what?