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tooth. I don t know. Haley and Tiffany are best friends. She d know if Tiffany just ran off. But the poor gal looked like death when she left. And after the horrible, horrible way her daddy died, bless her little heart. I hate to say it, she said, crossing herself, but I don t have a good feelin about the Perron girl. Not a good feelin a tall. 45 CHAPTER 12 AROUND TWO-THIRTY, SHERIFF Bill Hebert walked into Luke s clutching his campaign hat between his thick hands. Afternoon, he said, nodding to the group. Slightly bowlegged, the fiftyish man sauntered to the counter, set down his hat, and took a seat next to the attendant. Purple circles the shade of Easter-egg dye framed his crinkled lower lids. How s the search going? Chris asked. The sheriff cleared his throat. I suspect it s goin just fine. I ll head out there around four if there s no news before then. Join the late shift, Chris volunteered. If there still is one. Sheriff Hebert nodded. He reached into his shirt pocket, took out a pack of unfiltered Camels, and then returned them. His laugh was gravelly. Tryin to quit, but I don t believe in goin cold turkey. Erica set a cup of coffee in front of him and picked up Rachel s still-full cup. She d left minutes ago, her face pale. You care for a sandwich? Some soup? Gotta mean shrimp bisque back there, Chris said. Hebert shook his head. He surveyed the room. His blue eyes were as cool as lake water but more stern than any eyes Erica had ever seen. He was a quiet man, preferring to talk very little, but when he did, NEVER SMILE AT STRANGERS he easily took command. There s goin to be a young detective fella comin by to speak to a few of y all about the Perron girl sometime tomorrow. Will you be around, Chris? Absolutely. Haley Landry on the schedule? he asked, his thick, stained fin- gers returning to the cigarette pack. Before they got there, he lowered his arm. Yep, mornin shift, Chris said. I ll tell the detective she ll be here in the mornin then. Name s Eddie Guitreaux. Seems like a decent young man from what I ve seen. Bright, somewhat hungry. Ex-football hero. Used to be a real big shot in Baton Rouge. He ll be comin around to ask folks some questions. I trust everyone will be as helpful as possible. He took a long slug of his coffee. It s also been brought to my attention that there s been a Peepin Tom in town for the last couple of months. Not sure if it s related. And it s never smart to jump to con- clusions. Besides, there are no signs of foul play here. Hard facts, that s what the detective will be lookin for. I expect that s what he ll git. Kim s eyes lit up. Peeping Tom? There was nothing Kim liked better than a juicy piece of gossip. Her mouth served as the town s FOX News. The sheriff set down his coffee cup. Yes, ma am, someone peekin into folks windows. He s been doin it in Chester for as long as I can remember. In Weston, too. We can t seem to find the bugger, and it seems as though he s becomin more active. Folks been gittin prank calls, too. They think it s the same fella. He paused. But I reckon I shouldn t say any more about that right now. I just ask that y all keep your eyes peeled. Call the station if you see anythin out of the ordi- nary. In the meantime, I m sure Guitreaux will be keepin everyone fine company. 47 CHAPTER 13 ERICA RIPPED A page out of her notebook and crumbled it. She tossed it to the floor and scowled at the next blank page. Tears stained her cheeks. The scenes still weren t working, and when she tried to write them anyway, they sounded contrived. She would have to start all over. Write something completely different. She eyed the oversize plastic Heineken bottle that served as a bank for her New York City fund, the money that would take her to the East Coast so that she could find her mother. It was four feet tall and more than half-filled with dollar bills and coins. Her goal was to have it completely filled by the end of the summer. Now realizing that she might have the money but no novel, her heart sped up. She kicked the gray top sheet to the foot of her bed in a futile effort to release some of the nasty anxiety, then reached for her wine- glass only to find it empty. Un-freakin-believable, she said with a groan. Slipping out of bed, she pulled on a pair of sweatpants, then shuffled down the hallway toward the kitchen. The air conditioner was set low, and the house was chilly. Hello, a soft voice said behind her. NEVER SMILE AT STRANGERS Erica stiffened. Oh, sorry, darlin . Did I frighten you? Pamela sat on Erica s mother s leather couch, a romance novel in her hands. A sheer pink nightie barely covered her body. Erica folded her arms across her chest. Did my father give you a key? Pamela laid down the book and cocked her head. Erica could see that the lacy material barely contained the woman s breasts. If he had, cher, she replied slowly, would that be a problem? Feeling her nostrils flare, Erica stormed from the room and into the kitchen. She threw open the refrigerator door to find two toma- toes, a cucumber she d taken from a garden on the way home the night before, a case of Diet Coke, a jar of olives, and three cans of Miller Lite. She pulled out two beers and was balancing the beers, a box of tea candles, and some matches when Pamela walked into the kitchen. If you don t want me here when your daddy s not home, I won t come over, she said softly. Is that what you want? The woman looked even younger than before with her hair pulled back and no makeup. She was actually much prettier without it well, as pretty as a cheap-looking bimbo could possibly be. Do whatever you want. It s his house. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |