The Rabbit Hole

Chapter 22

Agent Rennik and Detective Edwards meet up at the Bridgewater residence, where the aging couple stand in watch as they get to work. There is nothing on the report from the CSU's findings of the victims shoes, either the killer took her while she still had on her shoes or he left them and someone else made off with them. However, that still doesn't put a halt from the working federal agent and the detective. As they pace through the entirety of the house, searching from inside and as well as the outside. They come up empty. "Maybe I was wrong. He must have took her with her shoes still on." Edwards admits.

"No. I think you were dead on about his compulsion, and as I said about him, he's a perfectionist. He definitely left the shoes somewhere."

"Okay, so where are they?"

Moira remains at her silence, pondering what may have happened to the shoes. "There's no way he could have taken the shoes, and from his placement of it, he should have left them out in the open for everyone to see," she surmises deeply and comes to a conclusion. "Someone must have taken them," she says out loud.

"You think so?" He says.

"Yes."

"But that would imply that there may have been a witness." She gives him a tilted head nod. "Right. Any ideas on who might that be?" He asks.

She turns to the Bridgewater couple, "Is there any person who walks by this neighbourhood in the middle of the night?" she asks.

"Uhm," Mr. Bridgewater starts, "Not that I can think of." He says with his head shaking from side to side. "No one comes to mind? No one at all?" Edwards asks, to which Mrs. Bridgewater, on the other hand, lifts her head in sudden remembrance and snaps her finger, "Yes, there is someone." She says. "Who?" her husband asks in ignorance. "Joe." She says.

"Of course." Mr. Bridgewater says.

"Who's Joe?" Moira asks.

"He's the homeless guy who usually rummages through everyone's thrash bins occasionally." Mr. Bridgewater says.

"Not occasionally, every Friday." His wife corrects him, to which he just shrugs.

"Friday? It was a Friday when Heather was abducted." Edwards says to Rennik, "He could be our witness."

"Thank you for the help." Moira says.

"Anytime." Mr. Bridgewater says as she leaves.

"Excuse me, officers?" Mrs. Bridgewater calls out falsely titling them.

"It's actually agent, ma'am." Moira says.

"Yeah, and I'm a detective." He corrects her.

"Oh pish-posh," Mrs. Bridgewater says with a wave of the hand, siphoning out a chuckle from the agent, "I just wanted to say, Thank you."

"For what?" They simultaneously ask and trade expressions after their voices harmonise.

"For not giving up the search for Heather. Most of the people of this neighbourhood have given up on finding her. My heart goes to her parents." She says still sounding off a hint of guilt in her voice for Heather's abduction.

"We will bring her back." Edwards says.

"Any idea on where we can find this 'homeless Joe'?" Moira asks.

"I mostly see him in the alleys close to the donut shop not far from here." Mr. Bridgewater says and watches as the car drives off.

Debbie's Donuts, a tiny shop which doubles into a cupcake business as well. After not having slept and skipping his breakfast this morning, Detective Edwards ducks into the shop to buy a quick snack. Moira cases the alleyways in hopes for finding their potential witness to the abduction. After three alleyways of nothing but scurrying rats and maggoty trash bags in the dumpsters, she finds a bearded old man behind one of the dumpsters, with his head sunk into his jacket and pop's out to the sound of her voice like a turtle. "Is your name, Joe?" She asks. The homeless man rears away from her and flattens his back against the wall then looks away from her. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you or anything, I just want to ask you a question." She calmingly states to him. He nervously sinks deeper into his jacket. Her eyes wander around, scanning the homeless man sitting in front of her, she glances down at his feet and notices his sneakers. White hi-tops with pink laces on them, a girls sneakers. "Those are a very nice pair of shoes." She remarks. His head pops up and he utters, "mine." And ducks back into his jacket. "I know, I'm just wondering where did you get them. They're nice, I might get myself a pair as well."