a call from the East Stroudsburg Police on their way to Danville informing him that Bobbi Ingram would be home that afternoon, and she was willing to speak with them. They arrived in Danville an hour and a half later. It was a small town on the Susquehanna and the home of the sprawling Geisinger Medical Center. Bobbi lived in a condominium in a development near the town’s high school. Children played and rode their bikes up and down the street, which was lined on one side by condos and on the other by single homes. It was a beautiful, idyllic location. Bobbi greeted them at the door, wearing scrubs and toweling her hands dry with a dish towel. She was about Josie’s height but curvier than Josie with wide hips and an ample bosom. Her brown hair was pulled away from her face and tied in a braid down her back.
“Come on in,” she said, leading them down a small hallway and into a kitchen with a breakfast nook. Her home was neatly kept, and decorated in wood tones. A tabby cat stared at them from the top of the refrigerator as Josie and Mettner sat down at her kitchen table. Bobbi offered them drinks but they declined.
“You’re here about what happened to me, they said.”
“That’s right,” Mettner said.
Bobbi walked over to her fridge and whispered until the cat moved to the edge. She reached up and took it into her arms before taking a seat across from them. On her lap, the cat purred loudly as she stroked its head and back.
“Them police in East Stroudsburg were nice,” she told them. “But they never found anything.”
“That’s what they said,” Mettner replied. “We’re sorry to hear that.”
Josie said, “We have another case of a missing woman. We believe it might be related to your case. Anything you could tell us about what happened to you might be helpful.”
Bobbi’s face crumpled and she hid it in her cat’s furry neck. The cat, unaffected, flicked its tail back and forth. A moment later, Bobbi looked up. Tears streaked her face, but she didn’t wipe them away. Looking off into space , she sucked in a stuttering breath and began to speak. “I used to walk the fairgrounds in Bloomsburg before work every day. When there’s no events going on, it’s pretty dead there. A few people will drive over with their dogs and let them run. It was early March. It was freezing that day. Like, below freezing. I almost didn’t go out, but I was trying to lose weight. I wasn’t going to go out for long. I bundled myself up and set off.”
Mettner asked, “Was anyone else out there?”
Bobbi gave a bitter laugh. “No. I was the only idiot. I only lived a few blocks away but by the time I got down there, I knew I had made a mistake. I turned around, started walking up Route 11 there before it turns into Main Street, near where the ramp to Route 42 going up to the mall is, and this truck was stopped there.”
“What kind of truck?” Josie asked.
“I think it was a Chevy. I mean, I didn’t notice at first. It was a white pickup. The police showed me about two dozen pictures of trucks afterward and the Chevy seemed the closest, but I couldn’t say for certain. And no, I didn’t get the tag. I didn’t even look at the damn thing. It never occurred to me for a second I’d need to remember anything about that stupid truck or the driver.”
Josie said, “We shouldn’t have to remember such things. People shouldn’t do bad things. What happened then?”
“Well, I was freezing my behind off walking past that thing. I saw the exhaust coming out and I thought, Geez, I’d love to be in there. Then the window rolled down and this guy leaned across the passenger seat and he said something like, ‘I don’t mean to scare you, miss.’”
“Why would he scare you?” Mettner asked.
“He had on a ski mask although I didn’t think it was all that unusual. A lot of hunters wear those in the cold weather. They weren’t uncommon in the winter around my area. I could see his eyes, they were brown, and there was a red mark going from his forehead down his nose. I didn’t realize at first, not till I got closer. It was like a burn or a scar or something. He pointed to it and said it