SK01 - Waist Deep Read Online Free PDF Page B

school.”
    Surprise widened his eyes. “Really?”
    It was crazy that he couldn’t see it, but I’ve come across parents who were even more blind than Matt seemed to be. So I nodded. “Yeah. She could probably tell someone who didn’t know her that she was in college and he’d believe her. And if she were a college age girl, she could date—“
    “Are you sure it’s not just the picture?” Matt interrupted. “Because you know they dress these things up. It’s a model photo.”
    “I know. But even so—“
    “She doesn’t look like this in person.”
    Not around you, I thought.
    “She looks younger,” he insisted.
    “Okay,” I said. “But the fact is that she can look like this with a little work. So it’s possible. A lot of things are possible.”
    Matt let out a quavering breath and looked at me. “This is why I need your help,” he told me. “I never would’ve thought of things like this.”
    “The police—“
    Matt let out a barking laugh, short and explosive, and leaned back in his chair. “She’s been gone almost two weeks and they haven’t done anything. And from what you’re telling me, they won’t do anything unless they stumble across her.”
    “She may just come home on her own,” I suggested.
    Matt shook his head. “I can’t wait for that. If something’s happened to her—“
    He broke off and looked down at the floor. When he raised his eyes again, they were filled with tears. I clenched my jaw.
    “Will you help me, Stef?”
    “Matt—“
    “ Look, I know you’re not a cop anymore, but you were. You know the system. And you’re smart. Hell, I knew that back in high school.”
    If I’m so goddamn smart, I thought, why am I sitting here wishing I was drinking beer instead of cold coffee?
    “Why don’t you hire a private investigator?”
    “I want someone I can trust.”
    I started to argue, but I knew what he meant. He meant trust with her. “I don’t have a P.I. license. I can’t just—“
    “You don’t need one,” Matt interrupted me again. “I looked it up on the Internet last night. The only time you need a license in Washington State is if you advertise or represent yourself as a private investigator. But you can look into this as a private party.”
    I shook my head. “Matt, even that aside, I can’t afford it. I’m on a fixed income.”
    He was nodding as I spoke. “Not a problem. I’ve got money. I was saving it for a vacation, but this is more important.”
    “Matt—“
    “Name your price.”
    “I can’t take your vacation money.”
    “You can’t do it for free.”
    “I can’t do it all,” I told him. “I’m all banged up, Matt.”
    “Really?” He leaned back and gave me a look of appraisal. “ But you were okay enough to get into that scrap at the rink last night? ”
    Screw you! was my first thought but I stopped the words, kept them inside and sat still for a long moment. I watched Matt and he watched me.
    When I was a cop, I must’ve done hundreds of interviews. I talked to victims, witnesses, suspects, attorneys, other cops, my bosses, you name it. I talked to people of all levels of social standing. Men and women. Guilty and innocent. Black, white and brown. Gays and straights. Honest folks and absolute liars. And as different as everyone wants to believe all those people are, what I discovered is that they were all pretty much the same.
    And that old cliché about the eyes being the windows to the soul? It’s true. They are. All the pain, all the anger, all the love or all the emptiness inside a person spills out through those two mysterious orbs. People naturally know it and look for it. Police officers know it and read it better than most people. When I was on the job, I could read it better than most cops.
    But not one hundred percent, huh? a nasty voice from inside my head reminded me. Not even close, hero.
    I ignored the voice and kept my eyes at Matt. The truth was in his eyes. I saw the pain. I saw fear holding on by