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Malcolm had made national news as being a key part in an international drug cartel. You didn’t get into that position by playing hopscotch. He was dirty. He’d admitted to killing people. Now I was working with him…and possibly risking my life by getting mouthy.
At the same time, I doubted he’d kill me. We needed each other to accomplish our goals. Me to find Ava; Malcolm to do who knew what.
I was playing a dangerous game, yet I was still here. The me I’d been last year before the shooting would have driven out of the parking lot before ever walking in the door. Somewhere between yesterday at lunch and this morning, I’d crossed a line. The old Harper would be horrified.
Good thing for me the old Harper was dead.
Leaning back in my seat, I glanced between Malcolm and Hale. “Larson has a one-track mind. He was like that with Andi’s investigation two decades ago. Standard procedure for a small department is to call in the sheriff and possibly the FBI right away. Manpower and time are key to finding a kid. You’ve got to cover lots of ground in an extremely short time. Most kids abducted by a stranger are killed within a few hours of being taken. After John Michael Stevens kidnapped my sister, I wasted ten minutes running home instead of stopping at the first house I came across.”
Neither man said anything.
“The chief’s got a grudge against me,” I continued matter-of-factly, “although I have no idea why. It might be clouding his investigation, or at least getting in the way of it. He knows I’m watching him, and he doesn’t like it, so he’d prefer to hide what he’s doing rather than let me scrutinize it.”
“Do you think he was serious when he accused you of kidnapping her?” Hale asked. “Or was he blowing smoke up your ass?”
I pursed my lips. “Honestly, I don’t know. It could go either way.”
Hale scowled. “Do you have an alibi for the night and morning Ava Peterman went missing?”
“My parents’ security cameras. I came home at about eight p.m. and was in my apartment until about eight to eight-thirty the next morning. My mother dropped by for a chat around six-thirty. It would all have been captured by the cameras.”
Hale reached for a legal pad on the side of his desk and began to take notes. “And before eight?”
“I was running an errand.”
He glanced up, his eyebrow quirked. “Where to?”
I resisted the urge to squirm. “Vanessa saw her daughter at nine. I was home before she went missing.”
“Ten bucks she was buying booze,” Malcolm grunted, giving me the side-eye.
Hale’s brow furrowed. “Why the big secret? Even if you were buying moonshine, this is a wet county.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, shame washing over me, quickly followed by an inferno of anger. How dare James Malcolm judge me? He owned a damn bar. He was responsible for boozing up half the county.
“You were at a bar?” Hale asked, writing again.
Why hide it now? “No, a liquor store in Wolford.”
“Would they be able to confirm that?” Hale asked. “I suspect they have cameras and I’m guessing you used a debit or credit card to make the purchase.”
“Yes to both.” I turned to Malcolm. “I have a solid alibi. I didn’t kidnap her.”
He looked bored. “Never claimed you did.”
“Let’s get back on track,” Hale suggested sarcastically.
“Agreed.” I turned back to face him. “Larson can’t make anything stick to me, so we need to focus on who took Ava and Eddie.” Then I added, “And sent me his thumb.”
“Presuming it’s Eddie’s,” Hale said.
“My suspect list is short, but far from conclusive,” I said. “Before the note and the thumb today, I thought the photo issue was separate from Ava’s case, so I didn’t take it into consideration, which had TJ Peterman and Ricky Morris vying for my number one suspect spot. Statistically, it’s usually a close family member or friend. Additionally, Peterman doesn’t want to make a spectacle of his daughter’s disappearance. Wouldn’t an upset father want the word spread far and wide that his daughter is missing? The more people looking, the more likely they are to find her.”
“Rumor has it Peterman treated his daughter like she was the Aphrodite incarnate,” Hale said. “Which makes it hard for me to believe he’d hurt her.”
“You never know what goes on behind closed doors,” I said. “From what I’ve heard, TJ expected perfection out of his daughter, and while she tried very hard to please him, I think there was a bit of rebelliousness brewing. Maybe she pissed him off, and he accidently killed her. Or maybe she heard something she shouldn’t have, and he put her into hiding or killed her to keep her quiet. Still, I don’t think he killed her. He’s too calm. Too unmoved by her disappearance. He may have treated her like a possession, but she’s a possession he loves. He’d show signs of distress.”
“So not him?” Hale said.
