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My nod must not look entirely convincing, because he says, "You're wondering how they could get along, right? The bordello madam and the former teen prostitute? I know what you think of Isabel, but she really believes she's doing the best thing for the women here. No, not believes. Hopes. She wants to do the right thing by the women here and..." He studies my look. "And you really don't want to hear that. Anyway, Iz used to talk to Abby about her experiences, advice on how Isabel could run a safe establishment. But those talks...? You know what Iz did before she came here, right?"
I shake my head.
"She was a psychologist. She counselled Abby. Not officially. It was just talking. But it wasn't just talking, if you know what I mean. Iz wanted to help, and Abby needed help, so they talked, a lot." He picks up the rag and begins folding it again. "Which is the long-winded way of saying there wasn't tension between them."
"Was there tension with anyone? For Abbygail?"
"A few of the guys. I can give you a list. But it's a short one."
"The sheriff says she didn't get bothered that way."
"Guys were mostly respectful. But a few came on to her. She'd never tell Eric, or he'd go after them and then she'd feel like she'd tattled and overreacted. You know."
I do know. It's exactly how I feel about telling Dalton who offered me credits for sex.
"She wanted Eric to think everything was fine," he says. "With Eric..." He clears his throat. "I don't like talking about her personal stuff..."
"She had a crush on him."
He exhales. "Yeah. I'd tease her about that; she'd tease me about Isabel. I think, when she encouraged me to give it a shot with Iz, she was hoping I'd say the same for her and Eric. I didn't. Wouldn't. She'd have gotten hurt, and I never wanted to see her hurt." He crumples the rag and puts it aside.
"Sheriff Dalton wouldn't have returned her attention."
"Hell, no. If I felt like the old guy with the teenager, it would have been even worse for Eric. Like dating your little sister." He shudders. "Just no. I think Abby understood that. Most times. Every now and then ... Well, she'd wonder, and I'd steer her away. For her own good. For his, too. If she came on to him ... shit. That'd have been rough, knowing she saw him that way. He wanted to be her big brother, not her Prince Charming."
I must smile at that, because he laughs. "Yeah, no one's going to mistake Eric for Prince Charming. But he was her knight in shining armour, however much he'd hate to hear that. He's a good guy."
"I keep hearing that."
"Yeah, Eric's fans and friends are a little too quick to support him. Mainly because we know what a crappy first impression he leaves. And second. And third. How are you guys doing?"
"We had a rough start, but I'm starting to see the side that wins him fans."
The smile grows. "Good. You two seem to be spending a lot of time together."
"We're working a big case together."
"Still..." He catches my look. "Okay, I won't play matchmaker. You'll get plenty of that from others. So, back to Abbygail..."
"You were the last person to see her alive."
He flinches, as if I've poked a wound that hasn't healed.
"She was heading for the forest," he says. "I was over by the woodshed, hauling logs. It was after dark, and there was no way in hell she should have been that close to the forest. She said she'd heard an animal that sounded hurt. We scoured the area together and I had no reason to think she wasn't telling the truth, which makes me feel like a complete idiot, but honestly? Eric said don't go into the forest, so Abby didn't go into the forest. She'd tease and poke, but she never disobeyed him. I really did think she'd heard an animal."
"But you didn't find anything."
He shakes his head. "So I walked her home. Beth's neighbours saw us--they can confirm that. Abby went inside and everything seemed fine. Beth got home an hour later, after working late next door at the clinic, and when Abby wasn't there, she just figured we were out, and she went to bed. I think Abby grabbed a lantern and went back. She loved animals, and if she thought she heard a wounded one..."
"It's the only thing that would have drawn her into the forest."
"But not far. Yes, she might wander in farther than she meant to, chasing a noise, but I can't imagine she'd go in deep enough to get lost. Someone lured her in. I'm sure of it. Others might tell you different, and maybe they think I'm just covering my own ass because I didn't manage to stop her. Either way, it doesn't cover my ass, because I was still the last ... the last to see her. I fucked up. And she disappeared."
He goes quiet, lost in that grief, until I break it by saying, "You mentioned a list? Guys who gave her trouble?"
He snaps from his reverie. "Right. Let me get a pen."
I pass him mine, and he writes it out and hands it to me. As I go to leave, he says, "Abby would have liked you."
