Lost

The Lost Journalist

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Jax's POV:

          "What have you got, Richardson?" One of the officers on the scene, David, asked me as I searched the alley where just the day before a witness had reported seeing an abduction of an unidentified young man. If there was such a thing they had left no trace, that is until I glanced at the dumpster nearby and spied a tiny strip of white underneath it. My gut told me that was a lead, so I put on my gloves and went over, gently pulling it out.

          Sure enough, though it wasn't much, it was a piece of paper from a notebook labeled 'Property of Jason James.' We had our victim, and I suspected that we also had our assailant, but I'd have to see our witness first to tell. I bagged the paper and turned to David. "Let me talk to the witness and see what she remembers."

         The witness was woman named Elise Grey, a thin lipped, thin bodied redhead with eyes as grey and boring as her style of dress was, at least that day that we brought her into the interrogation room,  a white blouse and a gray pencil skirt with black heels. Nothing jumped out at me about her, but my hope was that something jumped out at her about the incident.

          "So Mrs Grey, How are you today? You must be a bit in shock after witnessing such and event, would you like some coffee?" I asked her politely. It was always good to start out polite and casual, get the witness comfortable so they don't lock up and you can get the whole story. "No thank you, but you're right I suppose i am a bit shocked by this, in such a quiet neighborhood too, it's awful." She shook her head. She was awfully calm, much calmer then she had been yesterday when she called it in.

          "What can you tell me about the victim? Do you know the name Jason James?" I went right into it. "Well I know him from TV, that young journalist who wrote that really good interview with Charles Manson, but I don't know him personally." She shrugged. "And I didn't really see the victim's face, it was very dark in that alley, all I could really tell was the build of him, which I described to your sketch artist, but I did see who took him. It was Angel for sure, the white feathers on his mask stuck right out, even in the dark, and he must've had someone with him cause he got in a van on the passenger side but the windows were tinted so I didn't see anything else, and I couldn't read the license plate. I'm sorry I don't have much else to tell you."

          It wasn't much to go by, that's for sure, but it was better then nothing, and I had a feeling that she was holding something back. "Any information is helpful to us, thank you very much for cooperating with us and helping us get this man home." I smiled warmly. "Please call us if you remember anything else or if you can give us anymore information, alright." I said as I led her to the door and then out of the station before I scowled at my nearly empty notebook on my way back in. "God damn it. I keep waiting for him to fuck up somehow and he never has." I throw the paper down on my desk with everything else I had on Angel, which wasn't much.