Forty-Seven
If the visit to the morgue hadn’t paid off enough, at least we now had the name of our unsub’s girlfriend. The team split up, with Paige and Zach heading to Roxanne Cabot’s apartment and me and Jack paying a visit to Cabot’s place of employment.
It was noon when Jack and I entered into the lobby of the building that housed Herringbone Trust, an investment company. The information kiosk directed us to the fifth floor and once there, we faced a large reception desk. A trim brunette was posted there and watched us unload from the elevator.
“Welcome to Herringbone Trust. How can I help you?” The woman greeted us by rote and pasted on a smile that almost touched her eyes.
A+ for effort.
“We’re with the FBI.” Jack held up his credentials. “We’re here to speak to Roxanne Cabot.”
The receptionist’s eyes sparked to life now. We were probably the most excitement she’d ever seen around here. Personally, I’d pluck my eyes out if I had to sit inside an office all day. She didn’t even have a window to look out.
The receptionist clicked some keys on her computer and looked at Jack. “That’s strange…” She bit her bottom lip. “Roxanne’s not in today.”
“Should she be?” I asked.
“Yeah. If she called in sick or had a personal appointment, it would be noted here.” The brunette pointed to her monitor. “But nothing’s showing.”
I wasn’t liking where this was headed. Our unsub’s girlfriend might be missing. Was it just coincidence or was there a reason to worry?
“Her supervisor, then,” Jack said, wasting no time.
“Let me try her office.” She pressed a button on her earpiece and was speaking into it a few seconds later. “The FBI are here to see you.” The receptionist hung up a moment later. “She’ll be out in a minute if you want to take a seat.”
“Who is she?” I asked.
“Caroline Burgess.”
“Thank you.”
“Uh-huh.” The receptionist went back to whatever she’d been doing before Jack and I had interrupted her.
Jack didn’t move but stayed directly in front of the receptionist, despite the small grouping of chairs for waiting guests. I’d hate to have someone hovering over me like that, but the receptionist didn’t give any impression that she cared.
“Hello?” A single word, but it carried an impatience. It came from a woman who was close to six feet tall in flats. “I believe you’re looking for me.” She held out a wafer-thin hand speckled with age spots toward Jack. She was in her midfifties, easy. “I’m Caroline Burgess.”
Jack shook her hand. “Agent Jack Harper.”
Caroline looked at me and kept her hand out for me to shake.
“Agent Brandon Fisher,” I said.
“We need to speak with you about an employee of yours,” Jack said. “Do you have someplace private we could talk?”
The receptionist was watching us now, her eyes brimming with curiosity.
Caroline nodded. “Follow me.” She led me and Jack down a hall and stopped outside the third door on the right, gesturing for us to enter.
The office was not even close to as extravagant as Henderson’s at the law firm, but it was nice enough.
She closed the door and directed Jack and me to two chairs that faced her desk. She sat down in her seat. “I’ll be happy to help you however I can, but some things are strictly confidential.”
Jack nodded. “Of course. Now, we understand that Roxanne Cabot reports to you.”
“That’s right.” Caroline clasped her hands on her desk. “Has she done something wrong?”
“Is she supposed to be at work today?” he replied, answering her question with a question.
Her features softened somewhat. “I haven’t heard from her.”
“Is it normal for her not to show up for work?” I asked.
“She’s never done it before.” Caroline angled her head, her gaze on Jack. “Should I be worried about her?”
“Worrying never does any good,” he deadpanned.
Her jaw tightened at Jack’s blasé rebuttal. “Can you give me anything?”
“We’re working an investigation, and Roxanne Cabot is a person of interest,” he told her.
“Oh, so she did do something wrong.” Caroline was missing the mark altogether.
I brought up the photo array that included the unsub and the delivery guy. We already knew the latter was in the city morgue, but I ran with what I had at the ready. I handed my phone to her. “Do you recognize any of these men?”
Caroline looked and considered. “No.” There was confusion in her eyes, but she didn’t push Jack for any more information, likely because she’d finally realized that he wasn’t going to give her anything.
I put my phone away. “Roxanne has a boyfriend. Do you know him?” She hadn’t identified him from the photos, but I thought I’d take a stab at it from another direction.
Caroline winced. “We don’t exactly talk outside of work. And at work, we talk about work. I’m sure you can appreciate that.” She looked right at Jack.
“I do,” he responded.
“Maybe if you talked to her coworker Amber Smith. She sits in the cubicle right next to Roxanne. The two of them gab far more often than they should. Mind you, it’s often Amber’s fault; she feels that everyone should know about the minutiae of her life. What she had for breakfast and why, who she’s dating, who her sister’s dating—it goes on and on and on.” Caroline rolled her eyes. “I’d fire her if she didn’t get her work done, but somehow she manages to pull off jabberwocking and her job.”
Jack raised both brows. “Jabberwocking?”
“What I call running off at the mouth.”
All right, then…
“We’d like to speak to Amber,” Jack said, though given the warning we’d just received, I wasn’t in too much of a hurry. We’d have to keep Amber’s talking to a minimum so we could move on finding Roxanne Cabot.
Caroline nodded. “I’ll get her for you and set you up in a conference room. That okay?”
“Sounds good,” Jack said.
The next half hour passed with me and Jack doing all we could to deflect Amber’s attempts at banter and her rambling on about things that didn’t matter. She didn’t know the name of Roxanne’s boyfriend, only that she had one, and that he “didn’t treat her well.” Amber made it clear that was her feeling on the matter and not something that Roxanne had ever said.
We spoke briefly to Caroline again before we left the office and thanked her for her help. We told her we might be back with a warrant to search Cabot’s computer. She told us she wasn’t going anywhere.
Jack had Nadia on speaker the moment we got back in the SUV. “I need you to run a phone trace.” He proceeded to give her Cabot’s cell number, and a few moments later, we had a location and were on the move. I just hoped we weren’t too late.