Loves Me Not

FORTY

AFTER
DETECTIVE BRETT PORTER

Thursday morning comes, and I walk into my office with a fresh set of eyes, a determination burning deep inside of me. We've been getting countless phone calls since the press conference the other night, people all claiming to know something about Catalaina's murder. I don't want to get my hopes up, because similar to all of the calls we got from people claiming to have seen her, the majority of these will be dead ends.

I meet with a couple different people, entertaining their ideas and notions about what they believe happened to the dead girl. I find that most of them are just here for attention. They all want their fifteen minutes of fame, even if it means making up some bullshit story to get on the news.

It's one o'clock when I meet with a man by the name of Rajiv Abdul. The reason why he stands out from the rest is because when he phoned in, he claimed to have seen Catalaina on the night of her disappearance.

"Mr. Abdul," I say as I take a seat across from him at the table. "I'm Detective Porter. How can you help us out today?"
"The missing girl," he begins. "I saw her that night. May fifteenth."
"Where did you see her?"
"I'm a cab driver. I picked her up from her house and drove her."
Now he has my attention. I sit up straighter. "You're sure it was her?"
"Yes. I saw her photo on the news and knew immediately. That woman was in the back of my cab."
"Why didn't you come forward sooner?"
"I've been in Minnesota for the past week helping my mother. She was recently diagnosed with Parkinson's. So, you see, I did not even know that the girl was missing until I turned on my television last night and saw you talking about it."
I bring out my notepad and look up at him. "Okay, so you picked her up. From where?"
"Her house, I believe. It was on Maple Street."
"Was she by herself?"
"Yes."
"And where did she go?"
"To the pier."
"How did she pay?"
"Cash."
"What time was this at?"
He thinks for a moment. "It was late. I think almost two o'clock in the morning."
"Was anyone else at the pier? Any vehicles you remember seeing?"
"No," he shakes his head. "The place was empty. I thought a young woman like that shouldn't be visiting a desolate pier in the middle of the night. I stayed and watched her for a moment to make sure that she was okay. But she seemed to be in a hurry and disappeared into the distance."
I nod my head, trying to process all of this information. This is huge. A potential breakthrough in the case.
"How did she seem when you picked her up?" I ask.
"She seemed fine. She wasn't very talkative, but that is normal. Sometimes I get people who talk the entire ride, others, they don't speak."
"She didn't say anything at all?"
"She said hello when she got in the backseat. She looked out the window for the whole ride. I don't know if she was distracted or sad or tired, or perhaps just passing the time until she reached her destination. Once we got there, she thanked me and said goodnight. That was it. Oh," he says, as though he has just remembered something. "She was on the phone at one point."
"Did she receive the call or make the call?"
"I don't remember hearing the phone ring. I believe she picked it up and called someone."
"Do you know who she was talking to?"
"She never spoke. Just waited with the phone to her ear, then hung up. She never said anything."
"Okay," I say. "Is that everything? Or can you remember anything else?"
"No, that was it. I'm sorry. I wish I had more."
"No, this is great. Very helpful. Thank you so much. If you remember anything else, please don't hesitate to call me." I hand him my card.

I get a team together and have them disperse throughout the seaside, covering the lake, the pier, the harbor, and everywhere else that touches water. Zoey and I check every single piece of security footage and CCTV camera that we can get our hands on. Nothing at the pier itself, but I find CCTV footage of Rajiv's car at 1:52 a.m. driving along Park Avenue, presumably with Catalaina in the backseat.

We pan over everything that we find, analyzing each frame, trying to put together a timeline. She placed the call at 1:37 a.m. He arrived at her house at 1:45 a.m. That puts their estimated arrival at the pier around 2:00 a.m. And then after that? Nothing of Catalaina ever again. Until her body was pulled from the water on Saturday.

The lieutenant assembles a team of divers to scour the ocean floor. We're looking for two things in particular: her purse, and a murder weapon. Her purse would have her wallet, ID, and her phone. Murder weapon is crucial in determining what happened to her and how. If it's been in the water this entire time, it could be difficult to pull prints or any sort of DNA off it. But I'm not giving up hope yet. We've gotten luckier in worse situations.

Later that evening, I comb through her phone records, once again. I flip to the last page and move my finger down the rows of numbers, landing on the very last call she made. It was at 4:30 p.m. to Ben's cellphone.

That doesn't make sense. The number for the taxi service isn't even on here. And if Rajiv is correct and Catalaina was indeed on the phone while in the back of his cab, then that surely would have showed on her phone records. Because I can sure as hell bet that the person she was calling was the same person she was going to meet.

And I'm willing to bet that that very same person is responsible for her death.