“Dark hair. Big, sweeping up and to the side. Like he blow dried it.” Matty’s face screwed up with effort.

“Any distinguishing marks? Tattoos? Scars?”

“Not on his face. He had these moles running up his side. Three of them. I thought it was cute.”

Shaw shared a look with North. “Anything else? Was he tall? Short? Lots of muscle? Skinny? Can you guess his race?”

“He was definitely white. And he was about my height, I guess. I don’t know. I know this isn’t helpful, but I don’t really know. I mean, he was just an average guy. He was cute. He was . . . I mean, he wasn’t old, but he was older than me. Like, I could tell he had a nice job, made good money. I don’t know.”

“Where does he live?” North asked.

Matty shrugged.

“You were there, right? You went to his house?”

Yeah, but—I had a few drinks. I mean, maybe more than a few. And I didn’t put his address in my phone or anything, I just followed him.”

“That’s all you can tell me? You followed him? Come on, kid. You can do better than that.”

“It’s in the Central West End, all right? It was close to Allure. We drove for, I don’t know, five minutes. Tops. It was an apartment. Or a condo. A nice building, but not so nice it had a doorman. I don’t know. I parked on the street. I remember—” He bit his lip. “I don’t really remember much.”

“You were wasted.”

Matty gave a defeated shrug and looked at his lap.

“All right,” Shaw said. “Keep thinking about it and let us know if you remember anything else. What happened after he moved down the bar to sit with you?”

“When he wouldn’t tell me his name, that was a big red flag. I figured he was married, and I checked his hand. No ring. That doesn’t mean anything, but I thought maybe he was, you know, afraid to tell people who he really was because his wife might find out, something like that. But when he offered to go back to his place, I don’t know. I liked him. He was smart and funny and really, really into me, and I figured he was just playing the field, wanted a one-night stand, no name, no strings. I had a condom.” For some reason, Matty squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment at this, and his fingers tightened around Shaw’s just as Shaw was trying, once again, to free himself. “And I went back to his place.”

Then he started to cry. Not the weeping that he had done earlier; this time, it was quiet, just tears running down his face, and he turned into his shoulder and wiped his cheeks awkwardly.

“Did he hurt you?” North asked. “Tie you up? Do something you didn’t want him to?” North didn’t say the word, but it was there like gasoline fumes.

Matty shook his head.