I was beginning to get a little bit down on the prospects for the case. I could see why the initial investigation had gone exactly nowhere. I was leaning heavily toward the theory that Jamie had just pulled a runner. She was an adult. Maybe she had just gotten fed up with whatever it was that people get fed up with and decided to ditch it all.
The husband and the boyfriend elements were plausible enough pressure points. Hubby was ignoring her, and maybe boyfriend was coming on too strong. Maybe he was pushing for more commitment to him. Maybe he was making the demand for her to get off the fence and go all in with him. That would mean breaking up the happy home and still having to chance running into ex-hubby all the time. There would also be the element of trading down. Would she be willing to trade down to junior level cop income, instead of rising star real estate rainmanker?
That could make someone bolt.
It seemed that Ricky-boy held out hope. He had never gotten the marriage annulled or filed for divorce in absentia. Maybe there was a reason for that. I had to make a mental note to dig deeper on that trench.
The big, man, gorilla in the room was, of course, Detective Jim Tompkins. His role in this affair, ha, made it delicate work and tantalizing, as well. I was pretty sure he wasn't trying to find her just to re-kindle some puppy-love romance from back in the day. That would not sit well with Mrs. Jimbo, and would not look particularly good if he decided to make chief, someday. Average Joes and Janes tend to want their top cop to be a paragon of virtue. Ha, again.
The fact that he dropped this in my lap, also meant that he really didn't know her whereabouts, and didn't make her disappear. He might have contributed to the getaway fund, knowingly or unknowingly, but I was betting heavily against his being an accomplice. His actions during the investigation negated that theory.
What about the old mentor-detective? He was still alive. Maybe I could get something out of him. His name was in the files along with those of the three other girlfriends that still lived here. The leads were narrowing and I was getting ready to drop the whole thing back into Jimbo's lap. But the niggling nagging voices just wouldn't let it go. This one was too interesting, too many almost there elements that kept dodging away, like the images in dreams that slip out right after you wake up.
Maybe I needed a falafel, or a taco.
Maybe I needed to stop worrying so much about the why. Get down an examine just the what. People do weird shit all the time that they can't explain. Usually nothing this big. Usually it's why did I put my car keys in the fridge? Why did I leave the milk on the counter? Why did I decide, that one time, to give that complete stranger a lift?
I hadn't completely ruled out the stranger danger theory, either. There was a possibility that she met up with a Bad Man, who took her and wouldn't let her go. There were biker gangs that had been known to snatch women and trade them like currency. I didn't have any real evidence to suggest that, it was just a possibility.
I decided on falafel.
I ducked into a place, downtown, that has been there, forever. Awesome food and pretty cheap, too. Lloyd was there, collating and analyzing. I sat down with him.
"Is all this work, or hobby related?" I asked as I plopped my styrofoam plate onto the table.
"A little from column A and a little from column B," he replied without looking up. "In the reports, did you see where Jamie's car was found?" he asked, mildly accusatory.
"Yeah, it was right where her friends said they dropped her off at the end of the night."
"Yes, but where, exactly, was that? Think now."
I tried to recall the files. I remembered that it was outside, at a metered spot, which was free after 6 p.m. "The friends said that she parked there because she got lucky since it was only a block away from the bar they were going to start at."
"Well done," Lloyd said, glibly. "It was also right across the street from what prominent transportation node?"
I pulled the map up in my head. There weren't any transportation nodes, in that part of town. Then it hit me. At the time of the disappearance, the bus station was right across the street. "The bus station. Damn it. Why didn't I think of that. It's where the Embassy Suites is, now, right?"
Lloyd just nodded.
"I could see that," I said. "Get in the car, start digging through the purse, wait for the girlfriends to skedaddle, pop the trunk, grab a bag and be on the next bus out of town. I think you're on to something."
Another nod. "Not that you care, and not that it is all that important, but Nebraska is going to crush Illinois."
Sudden change of subject. How very like Lloyd. "Why do you think it will be a crushing?" I asked, almost out of obligation.
"Their run defense is awful and Nebraska's strength is the rushing attack. Not just better, but dominant. I'd be willing to wager that three Huskers will finish the day with 100+ yards rushing."
"Okey, sounds good. What about this being a trap game? A big, emotional win over Miami. last week, and a HUGE game with Sparty, next week, and don't forget the near melt-down against McNeese State."
Lloyd scoffed. "That's the kind of crap radio hosts come up with to keep people listening for a week. Let's make it all we're so weak, we are vulnerable, this bad thing might happen, blah blah blah."
"So, you're not at all concerned?"
"Not in the least. We still won't get much national credit, but the important thing will be that Nebraska will be 5-0 heading into East Lansing and what will be the biggest test, and biggest game of the year, to this point."
"All right, then," I said. "What is your prediction for the final score?"
"Nebraska 59, Illinois 17. Ameer runs for about 150, Tommy 125, Cross 110."
I finished my falafel and decided to track down bus route records.
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