The Tuesday After the Flight
Dave had sent us back to work after our chat in his office, but how could any of us work?
I sat at my desk googling famous Dateline cases involving stolen phones and sending links to Bruce and Nora. My work duties of posting videos to the website and hoping for clicks had gone completely by the wayside, and if any Madison, Wisconsin, viewers were looking for cute, fun content on our website, they would be sorely disappointed.
Dave pinged the three of us to come back to his office. We raced down. There was a strange man sitting in a chair in front of Dave’s desk and I thought for a moment that he could be a private investigator, but he didn’t look the part. His hair was wild, eyes bloodshot, and he had on a sweatshirt and jeans.
“Team, this is Robert, Steph’s neighbor,” Dave said and motioned for us all to sit. A feeling of dread began to creep up on me. Was the neighbor here to deliver bad news? I glanced at Nora, and she looked the same way. Slowly, we lowered our bodies into chairs and gazed at Robert warily.
“OK,” Dave said. “Time to compare notes. Robert is here to tell us what he knows and vice versa.”
Robert took out his phone and started passing it around, describing how Steph told him she had met this amazing man and how she texted him various pictures and a voice memo from Atlanta, but then things had taken a dark turn. He said he had called 9-1-1, and dispatch had called him back on his way to Channel 3 to say they searched the address he gave them and saw no signs of anything wrong. When he got to the parking lot, he texted Steph one more time but there had been no answer thus far.
Bruce got his phone out and showed us how she said she simply needed time off and to reschedule a bunch of meetings. He also played the voice memo. Then I took mine out and explained the Mark Ruffalo texts and the Susan-and-Frank and brother traps and how someone had fallen into them.
“What’s next?” Nora asked. “What can we do?”
“I think I might get on a plane to Atlanta tomorrow, whatever the earliest available flight is,” said Robert. “I’m going crazy here being so far away. At least there I can keep an eye on that condo and see if I can figure out what’s going on.”
“And I’m going to call her sister and her son tonight,” said Dave. “They deserve to know what we know. Maybe they’ll have new information.”
We all nodded solemnly, lost in our own thoughts. I couldn’t stop thinking about Robert going to Atlanta, what he might learn by being there. How proactive that felt. Bruce looked down at the floor, Dave stroked his mustache and stared at the ceiling, Nora bit her fingernails, I jiggled my leg, and Robert twisted his hands over and over. It stayed like that for a solid two minutes before Dave said, “OK, everyone can go now. We’ll be in touch.”
We filed out like a zombie apocalypse.