Reasoning that Christine must be staying somewhere in the vicinity of the park, Reid began his search with motels in the immediate area. When that failed to yield any results, he widened his search, still staying within walking distance. Halfway through his secondary search area, he found the place.
"Have you seen this woman?" Reid repeated the question for the seventeenth time, as he showed the desk clerk Christine's picture. He also flashed his FBI credentials for good measure.
Initially, the clerk barely gave the picture a glance, but then he paused, picked it up, and took a closer look. He then took his time examining Reid's credentials.
"It certainly looks like the woman in Room 172," he finally admitted. "She's a little older, but I'm pretty sure it's her."
"What name did she register under?" Reid asked.
The clerk checked the computer. "Christine Nielson."
Reid hesitated and then asked, "Do you know if she's in the room now?"
"Not really, but I am pretty sure that's her car in the lot," the clerk replied, nodding towards a non-descript white car parked outside.
Reid made a decision. "Give me the room key," he told the clerk.
As he walked down the hallway to Room 172, Reid considered what he was going to say if it was Christine in the room. He paused for a moment to think before knocking on the door.
"Christine!" he called out. "Christine - It's me, Spencer!"
There was no response so he knocked again. "FBI – Open Up!" he tried calling out this time.
Again, no one answered, so, using the desk clerk's key, he opened the door and, gun drawn, carefully entered the room. It appeared to be empty. However, he noticed that the door to the bathroom was closed, and that it appeared that the light was on in there. With his gun still drawn, he slowly turned the doorknob and pushed open the door.
He was greeted by a blast of hot, moist air and, after a moments' silence, a woman's terrified shriek. And then, Christine's voice spoke up, "Spencer, is that you? What do you think you're doing?"
Embarrassed, he realized that Christine was sitting in the bathtub, covered by a mound of bubbles.
"With a gun, yet?" she questioned.
"Get out of here – Now!" she ordered him. "Wait in the bedroom. I'll be out in a minute!"
Slowly, he backed out of the bathroom and, trembling, sat down on the end of the bed.
