Chapter 51: Giving a Statement

If any one part of my life ever changed, I would hope that being awakened by someone knocking on my front door would be it. I didn't know what woke me at first. Alexandria was curled up against me and still asleep. Mandy was behind me and I was on my side. It was a double-spooning.

The knock was there again, but it wasn't the pounding that had jerked me from my dreams the previous two days. I slipped out of bed, letting the girls sleep. After getting a pair of shorts and t-shirt on, I opened the door a crack.

"Can I help you?" I asked. I wasn't entirely awake.

"Yes, I'm Agent Davis," she held up a wallet with an FBI badge. I rubbed my eyes and looked again. The letters stood out in bold relief against the white card.

"Is there something I can help you with?" I asked, stifling a yawn. Why would an FBI Agent be at my front door?

"Are you Ral Setton?" she asked, pulling down her sunglasses. With the morning sun glaring at me from behind her, I couldn't see much.

I nodded. "Yes."

"May I come in? I'd like to ask you a few questions."

I didn't know what to think, for that matter I was having problems thinking at all. My dreams wore on me much like the real thing. I opened the door and let her in.

Though the Texas sun was already beating away the cooler night air quite efficiently, I had the AC cranked all the way up in the apartment. The Agent actually shivered a touch after stepping through the temperature difference. I had rubbed my eyes while trying to wake up, so I could pay attention to what she wanted. Behind me a door closed. I knew the others were still there, but it sounded like they heard enough to stay away.

"Do you mind if I make some coffee ... um ... Agent Davis?" I asked.

She had turned around the room, taking in the details. If she was anything like some of the police I had read about, she could probably spew back the décor with scary accuracy. I didn't bother looking her over any more than to note her dark auburn hair pulled back in a complex bun. Her outfit was conservative but comfortable for the heat. She probably had to be out a lot and took to wearing cooler colors and sleeveless shirts; a pair of tan slacks and sensible shoes for walking rather than pumps for the office. If she wore a gun, it didn't show. Then again, she was only there to ask questions.

She turned to me and nodded to my question. I started to the kitchen. "You're welcome to sit and have some if you'd like."

"Yes, thank you."

I pulled out the can of grounds but had never actually made coffee for myself. I usually just drank a soda, but I wanted the warm liquid rather than the cool fizz. After finding the filters and pouring enough water into the maker for a full pot, I added a couple of scoops and hit the button to get it going. "So, why is the FBI interested in visiting me?" I asked as I went back to the dining set.

Davis sat down with a small pad and pen. She flipped through a few pages. "I'm in charge of the serial kidnappings. My team has done some asking around after the last disappearance, and something came to my attention. Where were you on Sunday night last week?"

"I had only just arrived on campus. The taxi driver dropped me off on the north end of the school and I walked to the dorm, Trinity House."

"Do you remember what time it was?"

"It was pretty late. I had caught the overnight flight in from West Virginia. Then the cab ride and finally signed in at the dorm's front desk."

"Did you see or hear anything?"

"Well, if you mean on campus, yes. Between the Architecture building and Fine Arts building I happened on a group of girls, two blondes and a brunette. Otherwise, no."

"Do you remember what these girls looked like?"

"The two blondes, no, I never saw their faces, but the brunette had looked right at me at one point."

She pulled out a picture from the notebook. "Is this the brunette?"

I looked it over. The smell of the coffee pulled at my attention, calling to me. The face looking back from the picture may have been her. "It was pretty dark in that alley. I could tell what they were doing, but I couldn't positively identify her. This might have been her, but I don't know for sure."

"Take another look, Mr. Setton. Try to remember."

I looked again. I remembered her vacant eyes, the blissful expression. She looked older than the picture. "It could have been her, but this looks like a younger version."

Davis nodded. "Yes, this was her two years ago. Her name is Sandra Flores, and currently she's the latest addition to the list of those who have disappeared over the last two years. I'm guessing that you may have witnessed her last moments before disappearing."

I handed the picture back. "You have to understand something, Agent. I didn't even know about the kidnappings when I arrived. I thought I was seeing some kind of sorority initiation or something, but not a kidnapping. She didn't struggle; the two blondes stripped her down and then led her away."

"Did you see where they went?"

"I didn't follow, just watched until they turned the corner around the Fine Arts building. I was going the other way and was very tired."

"So you just stood there and watched? You didn't say anything or even try anything? A new college student and you must have thought it was your lucky night," she said with a sly grin.

I couldn't understand why a federal officer would ask those kinds of questions. "I've had a rough life, in the personal relationships department. I didn't think they would let me join, but at the same time they weren't chasing me off either."

She nodded. That sly smile never wavered. "After they left, did you hear any vehicles leaving the area?"

I shook my head. "I didn't know what the normal sounds for the area were supposed to be like, so I didn't hear anything out of the normal. But I didn't see anyone tearing away either."

"What about the two blondes, would you recognize them?"

I shook my head again. "I never even saw their profiles. It was like they knew I was there and intentionally kept from even turning so I could see part of their faces." I hadn't really thought about that part before. It was weird that I didn't see them glance back at me or even turn so I could see their profiles.

"And the brunette never fought them, never asked for help, nothing?"

I just shook my head.

She jotted down a few notes and crossed her arms. She shook her head as she looked over her notes and concentrated on her thoughts.

I got up and poured each of us coffee, and then carried the two cups, sugar bowl and creamer bowl to the table. Erin had bought a fabulous set and the tray ended up being quite handy. After getting to the table without spilling anything, a feat for me, I put a steaming mug in front of the Agent as she continued going over the notes. Then I stirred creamer and sugar into my cup and sipped some.

Watching her struggle with the mystery, I understood her frustration. Not a single clue had ever been discovered and she was probably hopeful that I would have been the break they needed, a real live witness. The problem was my statement wasn't any help. I was too new to the area to know what should have been a problem versus something that college students might do for real. The down side was I wanted to help. I wanted the issue resolved just as much as she did. Maybe not for the same reasons but it was the same purpose.

Could I tell Agent Davis about Master PC? No. She would have confiscated my computer for the investigation and the girls and I would have been up a creek. Not to mention that the FBI would have concluded very quickly that I might have used it to do the kidnapping and whipped up a quick set of lies to cover my tracks. I just sipped my coffee and continued to stifle yawns so I didn't look like I was holding anything back.

"Is there anything you're not telling me?" Either she was better than I thought or just naturally suspicious.

"What could I hold back?" I asked in return. "I honestly don't have anything to lie about. Some friends of mine are worried about the kidnappings just like a lot of people. I've seen some of the news casts and they've told me what they've seen. If I had something to give, I would. I'm not the one to catch these guys. If it is guys."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, just that; I saw two blondes and from what little they wore they were certainly women, or at least, very convincingly women. If it is men doing this, they have help from those two blondes. If however, it is women kidnapping women, then the next question is how many of the women disappearing like ... well, other women? I would guess it to be a small chance."

"You're guessing this just from what you saw?"

I nodded. "From what I've seen and what I've been told. Every woman taken left behind what was probably every stitch of clothing. After those girls ran off, the pile of clothing included the brunette's glasses, ear rings, and a watch. I remember thinking about her glasses. Even if it was a sorority initiation, she would need her glasses to see. Maybe even her shoes for walking around campus. It wasn't normal, but I didn't know what it could have been. I didn't know at that time about the kidnappings."

"Okay, then did any of them say anything?"

"No."

"The brunette didn't fight them, even a little?"

"When the blondes finished taking her clothing and put it all aside, they tugged on her. It wasn't forceful, but she did resist. Another tug and she was following them. That was all the fight she offered."

"And you didn't say anything to them?"

I shook my head. I felt like I was answering the same questions over and over. I would have been easier to just share my memories with her, but she was an Agent for the FBI. She was a cop, essentially. It would have led to other questions I wouldn't want to answer.

I had closed my eyes to rub them. When I looked up again, I noticed something was different about the officer. I couldn't put my finger on it, but some detail had changed. I sipped more coffee, allowing the warm fluid to run through me, waking me.

She sipped her coffee without having added anything to it and wrote a few more notes in her notepad. After further thought, she nodded as if having made a decision. She flipped it closed and put it back in her pocket. From her wallet, she pulled a business card and held it out to me. "If you do happen to remember some detail or run into another hidden group of girls, please give me a call."

I reached out to take the card and our fingers grazed. That was all it took. I felt like I had been struck and went rigid in my seat.

Davis had reached out for me. "Are you alright Mr. Setton?" She grabbed my arm to keep me in the chair.

Agent Davis was a hard working woman who lived for the FBI. She was diligent in college and in the training courses. She finished at the top of her class and her first assignment had been the disappearances. Higher authorities had tried to get a higher ranking Agent to take charge of the case after the first ten had disappeared, but she fought and retained the role. It had become her personal agenda to solve the crimes and hopefully return those missing women to their families. In her attentiveness, she had most of the details of the case memorized because it would be easier than having to look up files and read the reports repeatedly.

I didn't mean to take the memories. I had been thinking about sharing my own and instead my abilities chose what to do for me. Because Davis had committed all the details to memory, I knew the names of each woman, what they looked like, and when they disappeared.