Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 136507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
“That was fast.” And the answer I was both dreading and expecting.
“That’s because I made sure they marked it a priority.” Terry sounds bored and arrogant. I’m not going to enjoy working with him, but it doesn’t matter, as long as he’s good at his job.
“Any word from Thunder Bay?” Mike asks.
While Schmidt gives them the update, I check my phone and see texts from Isla and Dillon, both asking for information I can’t share, as well as a voicemail from Matt, wanting to know when he might be able to open the Bale House again so he can let his staff know.
“So, we’ve got nothing to go on, is what you’re saying.” Mike rubs his eyes. I doubt he’s caught much sleep. But none of us have.
“How long before we can give the Bale House back to the owner?” I ask.
“Yumi’s finished up with the parking lot,” Terry confirms. “There wasn’t much to work with. Mostly cigarette butts. One used condom, but she says it looks like it’s been out there a few weeks, at least.”
“Not a surprise.” People sometimes have sex back there. Usually in their vehicles.
“She’s working on the dumpsters now. She’s already found traces of blood on the fork pocket. It looks like someone tried to wipe it clean. We’ll see if it’s a match to Holly.”
Schmidt’s focus turns to Mike. “What about witnesses?”
“Kitchen staff was all gone by 11:45 p.m., except for the dishwasher. He said he saw Holly and her friends back there when he went out for a smoke—”
“What time?” Terry interrupts.
Mike falters. He would have gotten to that without being prompted. “Twelve twenty a.m.”
Terry scribbles the time down on his notepad. “Continue.”
My sergeant’s jaw clenches. “He said there was no sign of Holly when he clocked out at two. The last of the servers left by 2:30 a.m. and they didn’t see anybody. The owner, Matt, and a server named Shawna were the last out the door. They locked up at three and left in his vehicle together.”
“So, besides the truck driver who says he thinks it was before one when he left her but can’t be sure of the exact time, and her friends who we saw leaving the parking lot at 12:35 a.m., the dishwasher was the last person to see her alive,” Terry murmurs, writing dishwasher on his notepad under WITNESSES.
I know the guy in question—a gangly nineteen-year-old kid named Stephen and one of Matt’s most reliable staff.
“What about the motel?” Schmidt asks. “She could have gone around that side of the building and ended up in one of those rooms?”
“The camera on that side is intact. The footage gives a clear view of all the doors. Holly never appeared anywhere near there,” Mike confirms. “Justin’s reviewing the footage inside the bar. So far it doesn’t look like she came inside again.”
Schmidt purses his lips in thought. “All right. Assuming there aren’t any big discoveries inside the dumpsters, I think we can turn over the scene by tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll let him know.” Matt’s not going to like it, but he’ll eat his complaints because a fifteen-year-old girl went missing from his property and she hasn’t been found.
“Okay, we need to talk to everyone who came to the bar that night,” Schmidt says.
“That’s gonna be tough. We get a lot of out-of-towners through here, especially on Thanksgiving weekend,” Mike warns.
“You said both of you were there, and you saw Holly?” Terry’s eyes are on me.
“Yes. She was there until about 8:45 p.m., when Mike escorted her and her friends out,” I confirm. “Under-agers sometimes come in early and hope to go unnoticed once the place switches over to nineteen-plus.” It’s a silly plan, considering the town is small and you’ll always run into someone who recognizes you, but the Bale House gets crazy enough that sometimes these kids get away with it.
“How late were you there?” Terry asks.
“Until a little after nine? The footage can confirm.”
“Sounds right,” Mike pipes in. “And I left with Breanne just before midnight. We stayed to keep an eye on the Murphys.”
“The Murphys?” Terry’s eyebrows arch. “And they are …”
Mike snorts. “Where to begin with that question.”
“Probably with their rap sheets,” I muse. “They have quite the collection among them.” Though only one has proved capable of murder so far and he’s long gone.
“Got it. One of those families. Every town’s got one, don’t they? Keeps things interesting.” Terry flips to a fresh page, scribbles Murphy at the top. “Were these Murphys still there when you went home?”
“A couple of them were, yeah. I took off after Hank left.” Mike frowns. “Now that I think about it, when I was walking Holly and her friends out, she said something to Hank’s youngest. What’s his name?” Mike looks to me for confirmation.
“You mean Kyle?”
“Yeah. She said, ‘See you later.’ I took it as a casual goodbye, you know, but maybe it was literal.”