“Come in.”
“Excuse me, Miss Robbins, I’m Sheriff Larry Stoneson. Do you feel up to talking yet?”
“Yes, sir, I can talk now.”
The sheriff takes out some papers, a metal clipboard, and a small tape recorder from the briefcase he carried in. Wren notices the tape recorder immediately and its similarity to one she had seen many years in the past, and she knows this tape will also be used as trial evidence if it comes to it.
“Let’s start with your full name.”
“Wren Swan Robbins.”
“Wren Swan Robbins?”
“Yes, sir, my Mom thought it was cute, and as Dad was being held hostage in Iran at the time he didn’t get to protest it. So, I’m stuck with it unless I get married, but with my luck lately I’ll fall in love with someone named Crows.”
“Well, now, joking aside, can you tell me from the beginning what happened to you?”
“Well, I was leaving work Friday—I guess that was yesterday?”
“Yes, Miss Robbins, yesterday was Friday, May the sixth.”
Wren explains every detail to the sheriff, from crossing the empty lot, to her actions throughout the evening, even her childhood memories that came to haunt her at that horrible time in her life. It takes her a long time to explain everything, and the Sheriff takes note after note and changes the tape in the recorder once. By the time she is done, Wren is starting to choke on her tears.
“Thank you, Miss Robbins. Your account of the evening will surely help in the prosecutions.”
“So you got them?”
“I’m sorry, but, no, we didn’t. By the time we found exactly where they had been there was no one there. There were hot coals in the fires, food, liquor, and drugs everywhere; but, otherwise, not a trace of anyone. One of them probably woke up and found you gone, and everyone ran.”
“Kind of like roaches when you turn on a light.”
“Yes, Miss Robbins, pretty much exactly like that. Did you notice anything missing from your purse?”
“Forty dollars in cash, but everything else was there.”
“Would you mind if I searched your car for evidence?”
“Oh, by all means, do what you need to. The keys are right there in my purse.”
The sheriff turns around, picks up Wren’s purse, and hands it to her. She pulls the rolling table up to her and starts pulling out its contents. She finds the keys and hands them to him.
“It’s a bright blue Ford Mustang, parked straight out from the emergency room doors. The plate reads 4DBIRD.”
“Now that’s a hard one to forget.”
“I felt it was appropriate for me after all Mom stuck me with this name—I might as well get some fun out of it.”
The sheriff leaves the room and does not return for about half an hour.
“I didn’t find much, a couple of cups, and a bag of fast food leftovers from White Castle. We might get some fingerprints off those. Most likely though it’ll just be prints from the workers but leave no stone unturned. The wrappers weren’t yours were they?”
“No, I try not to eat fast food, too much fat.”
“You have a point there I need to cut back on it myself but with the job and the hours I keep sometimes it’s unavoidable. Now Miss Robbins if you would be so kind as to sign this consent form. It gives me permission to receive the samples the doctors collected and to review your medical records from this visit.”
“That would be no problem sir.”
“Also I’d like to know if it would be possible for us to take your car in for a proper forensics examination. We would need it for about a week at the most; if it would be alright with you.”
“I could get a ride home so yes if it will help, as long as I get it back in one piece. You know, not like they show on T.V. where the car is returned in a million boxes.”
The sheriff chuckles at her comment.
“No, we're not searching it for drugs, just fingerprints, and any other evidence we can get. The only reason I took the fast food out is so it can go in the freezer for the lab guys. You can rest assured you’ll get it back in one piece.”
Wren signs the papers and the sheriff says goodbye and he will be keeping in touch with her. By the time the sheriff leaves it is close to seven in the morning.
She picks up her cell phone and calls her best friend, Norman.
“Oh I hope he’s home.”
The phone rings and rings, then just as Wren is about to give up. A very sleepy and somewhat husky voice answers the phone.
“Hello.”
“Norman? Is that you?”
“Well who do you want me to be?”
“Norman, I need you to be Norman.”
“Then it’s Norman. Is that you Wren?”
“Yea, hey I’m really sorry to bug you like this but I need a really big favor.”
“What is it?”
“I’m at the Phelps county regional medical center, in Rolla. I need a ride home this afternoon and some clothes.”
“A ride home and clothes? Why, what happened?”
“It’s a long story and I can explain better in person. So can you do it?”
“Yea, as long as this explains why I was sitting at a bar alone last night.”
“It will, trust me, it will.”
“So what do you need?”
“Everything. You know what I like and I’ll pay you back for all of it.”
Norman’s voice is waking up, though it’s still soft and husky. But to Wren it’s Norman and it’s sweet music to her ears.
“Let’s see if my memory is right size six jeans, a six shoe, medium top and a thirty-four C bra?”
“You are amazing to remember all that.”
“Well I do have four sisters. So I guess details like that just kind of stick that’s all.”
“I’ll see you later then?”
“Yea, just give me some time to get going.”
“That’s fine, the last test is for late this afternoon. Somewhere around three, I think.”
“Okay I’ll see ya.”
They both hang up Wren feeling very fortunate to have a friend like Norman who has been there for her and would do anything for her, and she in return for him.
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