Just before the One Trust Bank closed, I sailed through the glass-entryway doors, nearly tripped on one of the black mats. The white-haired security guard quickly provided an assist. He righted me.
“You okay, Miss?”
“Yes, sir.” I strode over to the roped area leading to a line of cashier wickets along a wall. I easily spotted Kristen. She was the youngest female among one male and two middle-age females. Her shrill voice rattled off amounts of cash as she counted bills into the hands of a woman.
The smell of pine, coffee and perfume mingled in the air. Minutes later I walked up to Kristen and announced myself. Her smile slowly faded, and her eyebrows squished together. “I’m sorry. Who’re you again?”
“Jinx Curry. I’m here about Elena. Shall we talk here or outside?”
“Please step out of my line. I’m on my job. Speaking about Elena’s personal.”
“Then I’ll wait until you’re off in a few minutes.” I stepped out of Kristen’s line and parked myself in a comfortable chair in the lobby. While she waited on her last customer, she kept eyeing me. She pushed her brown hair out of her face and waited patiently on an elderly woman. Then she grabbed her belongings, spoke to some man who seemed to be her boss, then joined me in the lobby.
“Shall we talk here or outside?” I asked.
She gestured outside, and I followed the petite teen out into the parking lot. She stopped at a bench and placed some sunglasses on her face. She punched in some numbers on her phone. “Look, I only got a few minutes before my ride share arrives.” She sat down. “What do you wanna know?”
I pulled out my own sunglasses and protected my own eyes. Then I sat down beside her and pulled out my notepad and pen. “When’s the last time you spoke with Elena?”
She looked away and said, “Same day she disappeared, I guess.”
“What did you talk about?”
She shrugged. “A class project.”
I tilted my body toward hers. “Oh? What was that?”
She shrugged and said, “We’re in the same creative writing class. We were in the same creative writing class. She wanted help nailing down a setting for her romance novel.”
“Romance? What’s the plot?”
She shrugged. “I-I don’t know.”
I patted Kristen’s hand, and she snatched it away. “Listen, Kristen. Sometimes friends can’t talk to parents or the police about what’s happening with their friends. But they may feel most comfortable talking to someone who has Elena’s best interests at heart.”
She scoffed. “And that’d be you? A woman hired by Congressman Motherfucker himself?”
“Whoa!” I glanced down at my notepad then back at Kristen. “Look, I don’t mean Elena any harm. And if for any reason you feel that Mr. Calloway does, then you should tell me what’s going on.”
She shook her head. “Not my story to tell.” Then she chewed on her bottom lip.
“But . . . there is a story to tell then?”
She looked away again, this time at her white sandals. When she looked at me again, she asked, “And what could you do?”
“Why, get the police involved, of course.”
Kristen scoffed again. “Congressman Motherfucker has the police in his back pocket.”
For a moment, I stared at her.
With trembling hands, Kristen opened her purse and took out a vape, pressed a button and started vaping. The smell of bubble gum filled the air.
I touched her shoulder. This time she didn’t flinch. “Kristen, I’m here to help Elena. Not hurt her. I talked with her boyfriend. Deebo?”
Her features tightened, and she shot back, “Why would you talk to that asshole?”
“I thought he could help me locate Elena.”
“That sum-bitch is the last asshole she’d turn to.” Her voice dripped with irritation.
“So, who would Elena turn to?”
“Look, if a person don’t want to be found, they won’t be found.” She checked her phone then stood. “My ride share’s here.”
I dug out my wallet, plucked out one of my business cards, and handed it to her. “If you think of anything else, contact me at that number.”
She nodded and turned away.
“One last question, Kristen.” She turned to me expectantly. “Do you know where your friend’s hiding out?”
She grimaced. “Who said she’s hiding out?” She turned and strode away from me. I watched her get inside a black sedan before I headed for my own car. Talking to Kristen had proved to be a waste of time.
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