Jason King is perfect. Whether it's the British accent, his flawless fashion sense or having been able to pick up life again after having been through trauma as a result from his kidnapping, everyone agrees that this man is immaculate.
However, thin...
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"COULD YOU DESCRIBE TO ME what he looked like?" Detective Langdon asked.
Jason King folded his hands together and shifted in his seat to find a comfortable position.
"As detailed as possible," the same man sitting before him added.
Jason nodded as he tried to remember it. He had no issue recalling the memory, but it was exactly what he was afraid of—the memory. Those dark, piercing eyes, contrasting his fair skin lit by unflattering lighting, had been haunting him almost every day. The guy was tall, unusually tall, and was all up in Jason's personal space, leaning in and bringing his face close to his, all the while Jason was defenseless. His hands were tied together on his back, and he couldn't do anything to protect himself—to protect Emily.
"Caucasian," Jason began. "His skin was very light, and he had many acne scars and red blemishes on his face." He pressed his lips together as the face appeared in his mind again. "He was close to two meters tall." He realized the policeman might not know a thing about the metric system, but Langdon didn't make a problem out of it. So, pretending the flashbacks weren't there, Jason continued to answer the question. "Slender figure, and he was often wearing dark, baggy clothes."
"Could you clarify the use of the word 'slender'?"
"He was scrawny and tall, making him appear underweight, almost."
"What about his voice?"
In a flash, the sound came back to him. "A male's voice, nothing special about it, really." It had been the words that the voice expressed that were noteworthy.
"Did he have an accent?" Langdon asked.
Jason couldn't help but wonder if the question was being brought up because of his own British accent, reminding the detective to get such detail about Jason's capturer. "He was American," he said. "They all were."
"Thank you." The detective took note.
Jason put his elbows on the armrests and leaned forward while trying to catch the words the detective was writing down. That the conversation was being recorded didn't stop the detective from taking pen to paper and taking the time to write everything out.
"He had a beard too," Jason added. "Well, not a full-grown beard, just grown-out bristles."
"Color?"
"Dark brown or black." Just like his eyes had been. "I couldn't see it clearly because it was so dark." It had been dark enough to not see his dirty hand moving to lay down on his shoulder, sending chills down his spine and making his heart race at speeds it had never reached before.
"What about his hair?"
"The guy always wore a beanie," Jason answered. The guy had never taken it off for reasons unknown to Jason. It wasn't even a nice beanie; the black color had started turning gray, and it had been musty.
