The Female Unsub

Chapter Seven: Sloane's POV

I haven't moved since Spencer left two hours ago. Another agent with blonde hair came in about an hour ago to give me a black long sleeve shirt, a turkey sandwich, and bottle of water but they're still sitting on the table where she left them. I keep my eyes locked on the two way mirror, eyeing down the agent who's undoubtedly standing on the other side. My muscles are tense and uncomfortable, but I refuse to flinch. If they want to keep me in a box like a zoo animal, I'm not going to be their form of entertainment too. I only perform when it's necessary and right now, I just have to act pissed off and stubborn which isn't difficult given my circumstances.

I hear the door open and close but my eyes stay locked on the mirror. Dr. Reid sits down in front of me, and my eyes fixate on him. He hands me the shirt, "you look cold."

I roll my eyes and take it from him. I put it on, but I keep my eyes on him the entire time. Even though I resisted putting it on, the extra layer the long sleeve gives me instantly warms me up but I can't let him know that.

"You going to let me leave soon?" I ask. "I mean, you technically have 63 hours left, but you can always give up sooner."

"I don't plan on giving up," he says sternly. He opens up the file and pulls out a photo of me from Friday night getting into a black SUV at my hotel. "Where did you go on Friday night?"

I look at the photo, it's not the best quality. Plus the windows on the SUV are so darkly tinted that you can't see anyone inside the car. I can work with this.

I flick my eyes back to him, "I met with a client."

True.

"Where?" I scan his eyes, trying to figure out what he knows, but his face is just as expressionless as mine.

"I went to her home."

Lie.

"How long were you there?"

"About five hours or so. I can't remember exactly when I arrived, but I returned to my hotel around 1 am."

True.

"Why were you there for so long?" He folds his hands on the table.

"Because the client offered to pay extra for me to be there a little longer."

Half true.

"Is that where the three thousand dollars we found came from?"

"Mostly," I lean back in my chair, my muscles aching as I do so, "some was from my client on Saturday."

True.

He nods, "Plus, it's nice keep cash on you. You don't really want to leave a paper trail when you're kidnapping your clients."

I roll my eyes, "nice try, Dr. Reid. But like I've said many times now, those men who are missing aren't my clients. And I'm sure you can tell by my credit card transactions, I'm not one to care about 'paper trails'." I put air quotes around 'paper trails', purposefully emphasizing his phrasing.

"Hm," he says looking in his file again. He pauses, closes the file and looks at me, "so if you're not afraid of people knowing your whereabouts, why didn't you take your phone on Friday night?"

I look at him and cock my head to the side, "I never bring my phone when I go to my clients homes. Mostly for privacy reasons, if I bring my phone and someone is tracking me because of my occupation, their identity can be compromised. Which can lead to many messy divorces and prenup violations. But also a majority of my clients request that I don't bring it as it enhances the time spent together."

True again, well half true. Mr. Maxwell Huntington requested that we go tech-free during our meetings since he hated what a distraction cell phones are.