“No. We used to, but change policy. Now, only cash.”
“I wonder if that’s a clue they suspect the FBI is onto them,” Ellis commented.
Colin pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and handed her three twenties. “Your name badge says Ratana. That’s a pretty name. What country are you from?”
“I am from Thailand,” she answered with a smile.
She unlocked the cash drawer, laid the money inside, and relocked it before walking away from it. “Follow me. This way.”
The four of them watched as the monitor showed Colin following the woman down a dimly lit hallway. It was clear this establishment had been a house at one time and the massage rooms had been bedrooms.
A young woman with long black hair came out of one of the rooms and turned toward Colin. She scurried past him and the older woman. The girl had looked at Colin ever so briefly then lowered her face toward the floor as she dashed past him.
“I think that’s the girl from the hotel!” Emily exclaimed into the microphone.
“Ow,” Colin muttered, putting his hand up to his neck to cover.
“Massage will take care of that,” the woman said, opening the door to one of the rooms.
“You sure, Emily?” the special agent asked.
“Not totally sure. She only looked up for a second. It could be her, though. Can you rewind it?”
“We might miss something crucial if I do. We’ll replay it in slow motion when he’s out of there.”
Colin turned his body, keeping it in line with his eyes, as he scanned around the room. On the monitor, a massage table could be seen in the middle of the room with a couple of large white towels folded and stacked on one end of it. A twin-sized bed, covered with a red satin comforter and an array of colorful pillows in daybed fashion, was pushed against one wall. A straight-backed wooden chair sat next to it.
“You have a few minutes to get undressed. Put your clothes over there.” She motioned to the wooden chair. “Climb on table, face down, and put towel over yourself, if you like.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
The woman left the room and closed the door after herself.
“Colin, this is Special Agent Ellis. Can you see any video cameras?” He could tell by the movement on the screen that Colin looked around the room for any signs that what happened in the room was being recorded.
“Nope.” He spoke softly as he grabbed a towel off the table. “Now to get undressed and climb on the table without exposing myself to the world.” He walked over to the chair, took the vest off first, and pointed the buttons away. “I’m taking the rest of my clothes off and leaving them on the chair. After I wrap the towel around myself, I’ll reposition the vest.”
“Got it,” Ellis replied.
“How’s that?” Colin whispered.
“That’s good. I can see the whole table clearly.”
“Since I know you’re all watching, I’ll try to climb on this table as modestly as I can. You might want to look away until I get in position.”
“Not a chance,” Isabel muttered.
“Isabel!” Emily scolded possessively under her breath.
“Nice abs,” Isabel remarked.
“All right, I’m in position.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Colin called out.
The door opened slowly and a young Asian girl, likely late teens, came in wearing her jet-black hair down past her shoulders, a tight white smock over black short shorts, and obviously little else. “I start with your shoulders.”
“Okay,” Colin replied.
“Is that the same girl?” Isabel asked Emily.
“No, looks like a different one.” Emily squinted at the screen. “But she may have been in the car when I saw the three of them.”
The masseuse applied a light layer of oil and began working it in as she massaged his back and shoulders, then worked on his neck.
“That feel good?” she asked.
“Yeah…great.”
“You have tension in your neck and shoulder.” She continued to knead the muscles.
“It’s my job, gives me a lot of stress.”
“What your job?”
“My job?” he asked, as if he suddenly realized he couldn’t say he was a cop and he fumbled for an answer.
“Tell her you’re a construction worker,” Emily suggested into the mic.
“I’m a construction foreman. Lots of stress running a crew.”
“A crew? What that?”
“My workers,” Colin replied. “By the way, my name is Colin. What’s yours?”
Emily and the gang in the van leaned forward, waiting for her answer.
“I cannot say.”
“Really? Why not? What if I want to ask for you the next time I come?”