“Allie, that is your name. We know because we found your ID in your purse. Allie Kathryn Trenton.” The detective said. Allie stared at the cracked wall. A spider made it’s way down the crack.
“God damn it, listen to me!” She jumped at his demand. Her fingers traced the leather of the jacket she wore, his jacket. Detective Johnson slammed his coffee mug down on the table and glared down at her. “We’ve been over this before, Miss Trenton. We have him in the next room.”
“I don‘t know who you are talking about.” She said. Her fingers traced down the jacket’s zipper. She could still smell his cologne. She would never see him again, that much she knew. A tear slid down her cheek. Even if she told them everything, it would make no difference. Her knowing him was all that mattered.
We have him in the next room. The detective had been lying. She knew he had disappeared as soon as they had found her. She’d made sure of that the night everything went so very wrong. The night she had found him lying in a puddle of blood.