No Ordinary Girl

Chapter Thirty-Three

Leo was shocked to see me when he opened the door. He reluctantly invited me in, and he certainly didn't hang a tie on his doorknob. He was wearing grey sweats, and a plain black t-shirt, but still managed to look good. His side of the room was a little messy, but the other side of the room was a complete disaster.

"Jordan... he makes an impressive mess for a guy who's practically never here," he joked.

The walls were full of posters; concert posters on his side, and not so tasteful scantily-clad dressed women on Jordan's side. I turned to him, a little uncomfortable. "So... how have you been?" I asked in an attempt to break the ice.

He smiled playfully. "I've been feeling... kinda, how do you say... Pizza Pocket-ish."

I laughed. He was making fun of me -- this was a good sign.

I studied the photos on his desk and bookshelf; him and his dog, him with a brunette, and another brunette, and another one! Was Leo Estrada a secret player? I picked up one of the photos. "Nice picture."

"That's Whisky," he said, a smile tracing his lips. He couldn't be that mad at me -- he'd let me in his room, and now he was smiling at me.

I picked up another frame; him and a pretty brunette at a baseball game. They were smiling, cheek to cheek. Did he have a thing for brunettes?

"My sister Daniela," he said and then pointed to the other pictures. "And that's Natalia and Natasha."

Oh... the sisters. I should have known. I smiled, laughing quietly at myself. I took in the rest of the space; lots of books, a textbook, a clock radio, guitar magazines, a guitar in the corner, and up high, on top of his shelf, next to a Rubik's cube, a photo and a few books, was my origami swan. He'd told me he kept it so I wasn't surprised to see it there.

"It likes it up there," he said with a playful smile. I went a bit weak in the knees. I mentally scolded myself -- I wasn't there for funny business -- I was there for one reason only, for Haley.

"Bummer about the case," I said.

He picked at the edge of his desk absentmindedly. "Yeah, it's a bummer."

"There must be something else we can do?"

"Yeah, I was actually thinking--"

"What?! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking of checking her out on social media... Natalie Foster," he said. "She must be on there... maybe we could find something."

It was an excellent idea -- I wondered why I hadn't thought of it. "Yes!"

"Can you read images?" he asked. "Could you get something off someone's feed?"

"Maybe..." I wasn't sure. "The police are probably doing the same thing, I'd imagine," I said, playing the devil's advocate.

"Well, more eyes couldn't hurt, could they?"

"True," I agreed.

We practically ran to the media center. We only had an hour. "I really hate these rules and restrictions," I moaned as we sat in front of a monitor. "Don't you?"

"Yep, I'm with you," he agreed, clicking away on the sleek silver keyboard. We clicked, Googled, creeped, and stalked Natalie Foster for the next hour or so -- turns out there are a lot of Natalie Fosters out there.

We only had about twenty minutes to go when we finally hit the jackpot. We'd already found Natalie's Facebook page -- typical page; lots of photos of her cat (he was super cute), her nails, her shoes, inspirational quotes, and a few pics of hairstyles she'd created. Strangely though, there weren't too many photos of people. My intuition told me that she was a lonely woman. As expected, there were no photos of Mason Henderson.