'You've already typed both of them?'
'I came in early this morning. I've got four-wheel drive.'
'I'll talk to Jennifer,' I said.
I walked down the corridor and glanced into the computer room. Lucy was mesmerized by the monitor, and I did not bother her. Up front, Tamara was answering one line while two others rang and someone else was unhappily flashing on hold. Cleta made photocopies while Jo entered death certificates at a workstation.
I walked back down the hall and pushed open the door to the ladies' room. Jennifer was at one of the sinks, splashing cold water on her face.
'Oh!' she exclaimed when she saw me in the mirror. 'Hello, Dr. Scarpetta,' she said, unnerved and embarrassed.
She was a homely young woman who would forever struggle with calories and the clothes that might hide them. Her eyes were puffy and she had protruding teeth and flyaway hair. She wore too much makeup even at times like this when her appearance should not matter.
'Please sit down,' I said kindly, motioning to a red plastic chair near lockers.
'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I know I've not done right today.'
I pulled up another chair and sat so I would not tower over her.
'You're upset,' I said.
She bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering as her eyes filled with tears.
'What can I do to help you?' I asked.
She shook her head and began to sob.
'I can't stop,' she said. 'I can't stop crying. And if someone even scrapes their chair across the floor I jump.' She wiped tears with a paper towel, hands shaking. 'I feel like I'm going crazy.'
'When did this all start?'
She blew her nose. 'Yesterday. After the sheriff and the policeman were found. I heard about the one downstairs. They said even his boots was on fire.'
'Jennifer, do you remember the pamphlets I passed out about Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome?'
'Yes, ma'am.'
'It's something everybody's got to worry about in a place like this. Every single one of us. I have to worry about it, too.'
'You do?' Her mouth fell open.
'Certainly. I have to worry about it more than anyone.'
'I just thought you was used to it.'
'God forbid that any of us should get used to it.'
'I mean' — she lowered her voice as if we were talking about sex — 'do you get like I am right now?' She quickly added, 'I mean, I'm sure you don't.'
'I'm sure I do,' I said. 'I get very upset sometimes.'
Her eyes brimmed with tears again and she took a deep breath. 'That makes me feel a whole lot better. You know, when I was little my daddy always was telling me how stupid and fat I was. I didn't figure someone like you would ever feel like I do.'
'No one should have ever said such a thing to you,' I replied with feeling.
'You are a lovely person, Jennifer, and we are very fortunate to have you here.'
'Thank you,' she said quietly, eyes cast down.
I got up. 'I think you should go home for the rest of the day and have a nice long weekend. How about it?'
She continued looking down at the floor. 'I think I saw him,' she said, biting her bottom lip.
'Who did you see?'
'I saw that man.' She glanced at my eyes. 'When I saw the pictures on TV, I couldn't believe it. I keep thinking if only I had told somebody.'
'Where is it you think you saw him?'
'Rumors.'
'The bar?' I asked.
She nodded.
'When was this?'
'Tuesday.'
I looked closely at her. «This past Tuesday? The day after Christmas?'
That night Gault had been in New York. I had seen him in the subway tunnel, or at least I thought I had.
'Yes, ma'am,' Jennifer said. 'I guess it was about ten. I was dancing with Tommy.'
I did not know who Tommy was.
'I seen him hanging back from everyone. I couldn't help but notice because of his white hair. I'm not used to seeing anybody his age with hair that white. He was in a real cool black suit with a black T-shirt under it. I remember that. I figured he was from out of town. Maybe from a big place like Los Angeles or something.'
'Did he dance with anyone?'
'Yes, ma'am, he danced with a girl or two. You know, he'd buy them a drink. Then next thing I know he was gone.'
'Did he leave alone?'
'It looked to me like one girl went with him.'
'Do you know who?' I asked with dread. I hoped the woman, whoever she was, had lived.
'It wasn't anybody I knew,' Jennifer said. 'I just remember he was dancing with this one girl. He must've danced with her three times and then they walked off the floor together, holding hands.'
'Describe her,' I said.
'She was black. She was real pretty in this little red dress. It was low cut and kind of short. I remember she had bright red lipstick and all these little braids with little lights winking in them.' She paused.