As the one woman changed the subject, discussing how she’d just gotten to work because of a flat tire, it was time for him to make his move.
As he approached the counter, he went there.
“Were you guys talking about Phylis Lizney?” he inquired as he put all of the things on the counter to check out.
Both women looked over.
“Uh, yeah,” the older woman said. “Did you know her? She’s dead,” she stated. “There was a reporter in here before asking us questions about her.”
Well, it was time to work.
He pulled his badge and showed them.
“Actually, I’m working with the agents handling it. Maybe you can check me out, and we can talk?” he asked, putting them at ease once they saw his badge. “I’m Detective Pezzimente,” he added.
The one woman began taking things off of hangers, and the other nodded.
“Sure.”
He was to the point.
“What did the reporters who were in here want to know?” he asked. “Clearly, you worked with her.”
The older woman held out her hand and shook his.
“I’m Bernadette Wesche,” she offered. “I own the place, so yeah, I worked with her. This is one of our other associates, Merle Aristide. They basically told us she was dead.”
Oh, leave it to the media not to be delicate and to charge around like a bunch of bulls in china shops. That sounded about right for them.
“I’m sorry they dropped that on you. I imagine that was painful.”
Both women nodded.
“We knew she was missing, since her husband came here, but we didn’t know she died,” Bernadette admitted.
Because the women appeared to be willing to do the interview, Dannie pulled out his notebook and started making notes to share later with the Feds. Hopefully, they wouldn’t mind that he jumped in at this opportunity.
And that his partner didn’t kill him.
This was like it was meant to be.
“Oh, it was shocking, but I think we pretty much assumed as much when she went missing.”
Yeah, he bet. From what the husband had told them yesterday, that wasn’t normal behavior.
“How long did she work here?” he asked, covering his bases.
Bernadette considered his question.
“I’m going to say going on six years. Phylis had a way with the customers,” she admitted. “I hired her on the spot when I saw her helping someone in our store. She was fabulous at merchandising and had a knack for it.”
He kept going.
Because he didn’t think that would have anything to do with her being killed. This wasn’t going to be about someone picking her because she could match a sweater with slacks on a mannequin.
Call it a hunch.
He went a little deeper.
