The Darkness - Jason Pinter [46]
I sat there in silence. Paulina was staring at me, a
curious look on her face.
"What?" I said.
"I bet there's a part of you that's a little happy about
this. You feel like I had it coming."
"I'm not like you," I said. "I don't take joy in the
miseries of others."
Paulina smiled, a mischievous grin. That was the
Paulina Cole I remembered. The one who pushed your
buttons until they bled.
"I'm sorry for what happened to you," I said. "You and
I, we'll never be friends, but I wouldn't wish that kind of
thing on anyone. Not even you, whether you want to
believe me or not."
"You know," she said with an odd smile, "I actually
do believe you."
"Well, that's peachy. But I still don't know why I'm
the right person for this."
"My daughter is closer to your age than mine. You
have access to the cops, and you know the world she
lives in better than me. You could figure out how someone
got a photograph of her."
"What do you mean?"
"My daughter, Abigail. The man showed me a photograph that my daughter said came from a set she posted
online. Only this particular photo was never posted, the
only one from the set that wasn't available online. This
one was private, yet somebody got it."
"What's the photo of?"
Paulina shifted in her seat. She looked uncomfortable.
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"It's a recent photo. Taken within the last year. Abigail
wearing a pink bikini, and she's standing in front of a big
hole on the beach. And she's smiling."
I took out a notepad and wrote it all down. I tried not
to look at Paulina. This couldn't be easy for her.
"Don't worry," I said. "Nobody sees this but me."
Paulina nodded, but it was clear this was as enjoyable
for her as an endoscopy.
"Do you know how to use MySpace? Facebook?
Whatever the hell else people do to exploit themselves
these days?"
"I have accounts," I said, "but I really don't use them.
I had a cyberstalker once and...long story, but let's just
say my girlfriend won't let me go to Staten Island anymore. Go on."
"Well, if you know how to log on you've got a leg
up on me. Between that and your access to the cops,
you can get information. There's bound to be a news
story in this. And even though I'm still pissed about the
last time you boned me over on a scoop, if you come
up with a trail that leads to something printable...it's
yours. And I think you're the only person I could trust
to keep it a secret."
"I'm not sure if I should be flattered."
"You need to find out who the man is who got the
photo," she said.
"And who he could have gotten it from."
"That's right."
"And what makes you think there's a story in this?" I
asked. "Beyond what this guy did to you. How do you
know he wasn't some random nutjob?"
"Because he asked me to do a favor for him, too," she
said. "And this favor wasn't exactly the kind of thing that
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a nutjob asks of you. It was something planned. It's part
of a much bigger plan."
"A plan?" I said. "What did he ask you to do?"
"It's not important," she said. "Well, it is, but important
enough that I'm only going to trust you with so much."
"Are you going to do it?" I asked.
Paulina met my eyes. "You'll know in a few days."
"I assume that means you're no longer taking any
personal time and that your column will be back shortly."
"Safe assumption, Sherlock."
"You're a real charmer, Paulina. You know that, right?"
"Listen, Parker. There's a story here. Trust me on this.
That's all I can say. And that's the trade-off. You find this
man, you get to follow the trail to wherever it leads. We
both come out ahead. And I promise you, this trail will
lead somewhere."
I nodded, thought about it. If this man who kidnapped
Paulina did have a photo of her daughter and did go so far
as to pose as her driver, it meant the crime was planned out
well in advance, weeks if not months. Nobody went through
that kind of trouble unless the ends justified the means.
"Tell me about this man," I said. "What did he look
like? Please be specific."
"Tall, about six-one or two," she said. "Weighed, I'd
guess,