“Twice, actually. They talked to her the night of the shooting, and they came by the house the next day. And then we heard the police had picked up a suspect and they were going to try her for the killing. A young woman, twenty-five years old, can you imagine that? Shooting a kid in cold blood like that.” Linda looked bewildered at the thought.
“Hard to believe, yes.” Mallory paused, then asked, “Do you happen to remember the name of the suspect?”
“No. She wasn’t convicted, though. The newspapers said the jury didn’t have enough evidence to convict her. So whether she did it or not…” Linda shrugged.
“Has Courtney tried to contact you over the past few weeks?”
Linda looked at her as if she were mad.
“Are you kidding? You see these bags under my eyes? You think I’ve had a night’s sleep since the night she went missing?” She began to weep softly. “I close my eyes at night and try to imagine where she is. Is she still alive? Would I know for certain if she wasn’t? I’m her mother—aren’t I supposed to know, aren’t I supposed to feel it, if something terrible happened to her?”
“Mrs. Bauer…”
“Linda. My husband, the bastard, left me long ago. If it weren’t for the kids, I’d have gone back to my maiden name. Do you know he hasn’t even called one time since Courtney disappeared? Wouldn’t you think he’d want to know what happened to his own daughter?”
“Is he still in the area?”
“I have no idea. I don’t think he is.” Linda got up from the table and took a box of tissues from the counter. “I ought to have stock in Scott Paper. I go through about five boxes of these things every week. Anyway, I haven’t heard from the kids’ father in years. But the story was all over the news, I’m sure even he heard about it, wherever he is. And I’m sure even he’s smart enough to realize there’s only one Courtney Bauer in Conroy, Pennsylvania.”
“Is there a chance he’s been in touch with the girls?”
“None. He didn’t give either of them the time of day when he lived with us, I don’t see him reaching out to them now. He never wanted either one of them, wanted me to have an abortion both times. Not that I ever told either of them that, but that’s the truth.”
“But could she have tracked him down somehow?”
“No.” Linda shook her head. “She doesn’t know him, wouldn’t know how to contact him.”
“But under the circumstances, would she have gone to him if she needed a place to go where no one would think to look for her?”
“She wouldn’t know where to start to find him, I’m telling you.”
“Give me his full name and anything you think of that could help us locate him.” Mallory smiled. “Just in case.”
“It’s Tim. Timothy J. Bauer. Last I heard he was living somewhere out near Erie.”
“Does he have family there?” Mallory took the paper and pen from her pocket and jotted down the information.
“He used to. A brother, Clark, might still live there.” She shrugged. “I really don’t know.”
“That’s okay, you’ve given me a starting place.”
“If you find him, tell him he owes me about thirteen years in back child support.”
“Will do.” Mallory returned the pen and paper to her pocket. “Is there anyplace you can think of where she might go if she was going to hide out? Somewhere she used to go as a child, maybe.”
“No, I can’t think of anyplace.” Linda appeared to think it over. “You think she’s hiding someplace? You think she’s alive and she and Ryan are hiding somewhere?”
“It’s a possibility, yes.” Mallory didn’t want to give the woman false hope, but she did think it was possible since no body had been found.
Linda covered her face with her hands. “I am scared to death for my daughter. And Ryan…I can’t bear to think about what might have happened to the two of them. Until you’ve had someone you love just disappear from your life like that, I guess it’s hard to understand. But every minute of every day, I wonder where she is. I wake up feeling sick to my stomach, and I go to bed at night, scared to death that she’s dead and scared to death that she’s still alive but having something horrible happening to her and God help me, I don’t know which is worse for her.”
Mallory nodded. She’d handled cases where both scenarios had turned out to be true. She patted Linda’s arm and said, “I’m very sorry, for you and for Courtney. I know how hard this must be for you.”
Linda nodded and wiped her eyes. “Thank you.” She glanced up at the clock. “Oh, crap, look at the time. I’m sorry, but I have to leave for work.”
“Of course you do. I’m sorry for having kept you.” Mallory stood. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“I’ll walk out with you.” Linda pulled a small stack of tissues from the box and stuffed them into her bag. “I need a few for the road.”
“Can I drop you someplace?” Mallory asked as they walked to the door.
“Thanks but no. I get the bus right there at the corner. It takes me right into town.” She hesitated at the foot of the steps that led to the second floor. “I really should check on Misty before I go.”
“You go ahead and do that. I’ll let myself out.” Mallory extended her hand to Linda. “Will you call me if you think of anything, anything at all? If you hear from her…”
“Yes, of course. I will.” Linda squeezed Mallory’s hand. “If I hear anything at all, you will be the first to know.”
Mallory left the house and crossed the street to her car, where she sat for several moments until she saw Linda come out, lock the door behind her, then walk to the corner. Within minutes, a bus arrived and Linda got on board. Mallory sat behind the wheel, just watching the house for another eighteen minutes. Sure enough, as she suspected, the front door opened and a young girl emerged. Mallory got out of the car and walked across the street even before the girl had gotten to the end of the walk.
“Hello, Misty. My name is Mallory Russo. I’m looking into your sister’s disappearance.”
Misty Bauer was fifteen, tall and rangy, all legs and long brown hair and attitude. She stopped in her tracks at Mallory’s approach and stared with suspicious eyes.
“I was here a while ago to talk with your mother about Courtney,” Mallory continued casually, “and I borrowed a pen from her, and without thinking, I stuck it in my pocket.” She held out the pen, and Misty stared at it. “I didn’t want to forget to give it back.”
The girl reached out her hand and took the pen. “Thanks. I’ll give it to her when she gets home tonight.”
She stood her ground, then surprised Mallory by saying, “I heard about you. You used to be a cop. Why aren’t you a cop anymore?”
“Long story.” Mallory shrugged off the question.
“Mrs. Mary down at the church office hired you to find Courtney and Ryan.”
“She did.”
“Will you? Find them?” Misty asked with what appeared to Mallory to be more curiosity than concern.
Strange reaction, Mallory thought. “If I can.”
“Why did she hire you, anyway, if you’re not even a cop?”
“Because I’m a good detective.”
“I thought you weren’t one anymore.”
“Well, technically…,” Mallory began.
“Whatever.” Misty shrugged and started to walk around her.
“Misty, while I’m here, maybe you can answer some questions for me.”
“I don’t know anything.”
Too fast. Way too fast.
“How do you know? You don’t know what questions I’m going to ask.”
Misty shot Mallory the universal teen look that expressed utter exasperation, but she stopped walking.
“The night your sister and Ryan disappeared, she drove you and a few of your friends to a dance, is that right?”
“Yeah. I told the police about that.” Misty appeared to relax a bit.
“I know you did. Now I’d like you to tell me.”<
br />
“She drove us to the community center, that’s all.” Misty’s shrug added the unspoken, No big deal.
“Was she upset about anything that night?”
“Well, yeah. Hel-lo? Penn State? Rejection?” Misty rolled her eyes. “She was really pissed off. That’s why she called the guys. That’s why they were all in the park. They were, like, her best buds, you know?”
“I know.”
“She and Ryan didn’t kill Adam and Steve.” It was the first unsolicited statement Misty had uttered.
“I believe that, too.”
“All that stuff in the papers and on TV? It’s all wrong. They wouldn’t do something like that.” Misty’s teary eyes looked up into Mallory’s.
“I believe you. I’m on their side. But we’re going to have to find Courtney and Ryan if we’re going to prove that.” Mallory lowered her voice. “Misty, has Courtney tried to contact you at all?”
“No.” A quick shake of the head. Another answer that was faster than it should have been. “Why did you ask me that?”
“Are you sure she hasn’t—”
“I said no.”
“How about your mom?” Mallory threw this out mostly to see Misty’s reaction. She felt certain if Linda had heard from her daughter, Mallory would have sensed it, but she hadn’t. “I know the three of you were close. Maybe Courtney tried to call your—”
“No. She hasn’t tried to contact anyone, okay?” Misty was almost whispering.
“Do you have any idea where they might be?”
“No.”
“Anyplace where Courtney would go if she wanted to hide?”
“I said no. Stop asking me. I already said no.” Misty’s eyes darted nervously, focused on the street behind Mallory.
“Misty, has anyone else been around asking about Courtney? Other than the police?”
“What do you mean?” Misty licked her lips as if they were suddenly very dry, her eyes still on the street. “Anyone like who?”
“Anyone at all.”
“Just the police.”
“You’re sure?”
“I said.”
“Look, here’s my name and number. I want you to call me if anyone—I mean anyone—asks you about Courtney. Will you do that?” Mallory handed her a card.
“Sure.” Misty wrapped her fist around it.
“Anyone, Misty.”
“Okay.”
“Misty, do you ever hear from your father?”
Misty snorted. “My father? Are you serious?”
“I take it that’s a no. How about Courtney? Do you know if he’s ever been in contact with her?”
“Like he’d contact either of us.” Misty rolled her eyes again. “Why would he do that? He doesn’t even know we’re alive.”
“If he does contact you, will you let me know?”
“Right. But don’t hold your breath.”
Mallory nodded. It was the best she was going to get today. “You look like you’re going out. Can I drop you someplace?”
“I’m just waiting for a friend.”
“Was Courtney dating anyone special?”
“No.”
“Mrs. Corcoran mentioned someone named Joe.”
“Joe Slivinsky.” Misty was back to making eye contact. “He went to Central. She went out with him a couple of times but it wasn’t any big deal to either of them.”
“You sure?”
Misty nodded readily. “She said he only hung with her because he liked her friend Dana. But Dana wasn’t interested, either.” She shrugged. “You know how those things go.”
“Sure. Thanks.” Mallory turned to go. “Listen, you think of anything…”
“Right. I’ll be sure to call.”
A little too sarcastic for a kid her age, Mallory was thinking as she walked across the street to her car. She got behind the wheel and checked her phone for messages. She listened to Charlie’s and checked the clock on the dashboard. It was after one. She’d be right on time to meet him at the diner.
She started the car and pulled away from the curb, glancing at the Bauer home just in time to see Misty rip up the card Mallory’d given her into a dozen tiny pieces and toss them into the gutter.
“Son of a bitch,” Mallory muttered under her breath as she drove away.
TWELVE
Mallory could see Charlie from the diner steps. She went inside and headed for his table without glancing around, then sat opposite him without waiting to be invited.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi. Guess you got my message.”
She nodded. “I probably should have called, but I was only a few blocks away when I heard it.” She studied his face for a moment, then said, “You look as if you’ve had a rough morning.”
He laughed wryly. “You could say that.”
“Look, if you’d rather do this some other time…if there’s someplace you need to be…”
Charlie shook his head. “No time like the present.”
“Well, if you’re sure.” She signaled to the waitress and asked for an iced tea.
“Do you want something else?” Charlie asked. “I was just going to order a sandwich.”
Mallory nodded. “Good idea. I’ll have a BLT.”
“And for you?” The waitress eyed Charlie.
“Roast beef on rye,” he told her.
“Want a refill on that coffee?”
“Water is fine, thanks.” As he handed her his empty cup. To Mallory, he said, “You look like you’re on to something.”
“How can you tell?” She frowned. Was she that transparent?
“You have that I-know-something-you-don’t-know look.”
Mallory laughed. “Actually, I think I am on to something, but I’m not sure what it is. I’m glad you called when you did. Maybe talking it out…”
“Do it.” He sat back against the booth. “That’s what we’re here for.”
“There are a couple of things. First, I spent a few hours at the high school yesterday talking to several teachers who knew all four of the kids. There was nothing new there, they all said pretty much the same things, pretty much all of what we’ve heard before.”
“Good kids, good grades, yada yada yada.”
“Right. The only real news came from Sister Rosalie, the counselor. She said that after the shooting at Hazel’s, Courtney had a rough time.”
“I don’t know about the shooting at Hazel’s,” he told her.
Mallory filled him in. “So after the shooting that she didn’t witness and didn’t know anything about, she has nightmares.”
“That’s not really all that uncommon, though, is it, for a teenager to react that way?” he asked. “What was she, sixteen, at the time?”
“Fifteen, sixteen,” Mallory said, nodding.
“I don’t think it’s that unusual for a kid that age to have nightmares, coming that close to death.”
“But what if she really had seen something? What if she recognized the shooter but said she hadn’t seen anything because she was afraid?” She sat back while the waitress served their beverages.
“What made you think of that?” He took a sip of his drink, his eyes on her face.
“Just little things. Little things, and a feeling that I have. She told her mother that she was on the phone with a friend at the time of the shooting, so she didn’t hear anything that was going on. She said she didn’t even hear the gunshots.”
“That wouldn’t be unusual, either, a teenage girl on a cell phone. Why does that bother you?”
“I just don’t remember Hazel’s being so big that you wouldn’t hear a gunshot. And the police never did verify the story with the girl Courtney said she’d been on the phone with.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I was with Courtney’s mother this morning. That’s where I was when you called.”
“How does she know the police didn’t talk to the girlfriend?”
“She said she would have heard if they ha
d, she knows the girl’s mother really well. She said no one ever called them.”
“I’ll pull the case file on Monday, see if her name shows up,” he said. “You happen to get the name of the girl?”
“Callie Henderson. Father Burch can probably get her out of class for you if you want to talk to her.”
“Great.” He wrote the girl’s name down on a small spiral-bound notebook he took from his pocket, then looked up at Mallory and said, “It’s not sitting right with you, either, is it?”
“If you’re referring to the fact that Courtney would have been at Hazel’s the night of the shooting back then, and she’s in the playground the night of the most recent shooting—then yeah,” she replied, “it’s not sitting right with me.”
“Could mean something—or nothing.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “All right, let’s table that for now. See what develops.”
“By the way, what did you do with the scrap of yellow fabric we found on the fence?”
“It’s bagged and tagged and sitting in the glove box of my car. I’ll take it in on Monday.”
“And guess what else?” Mallory couldn’t help but grin. In the car on the way to the diner, she’d debated whether or not to share everything she’d learned that morning and had decided to wait to see what her instincts told her. But she knew that if she wanted him to play straight with her, she’d have to return the favor.
“What else?” He grinned back at her, and she felt as if they were, if not old friends, then coconspirators at least.
“Well…” She paused as their sandwiches were set on the table. When the waitress had walked away, Mallory lowered her voice and said, “This is the big one.”
“Hit me.”
“Courtney’s sister knows something. I feel sure of it. I think she knows what happened that night. I think she may even know where Courtney is.”
“Whoa. That is big. She told you that?” He frowned, the sandwich halfway to his mouth.
“Not in so many words.”
“What did she say?”
“It’s what she didn’t say.” Mallory touched her napkin to the corners of her mouth. “Look, your sister is missing from a murder scene—missing for more than two weeks—someone asks you about her, you say, Oh, my God, I’m so worried about her, I’m so scared that something terrible has happened to her.”
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