Ms. Palmer sniffed and smiled warmly. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”
Harlan turned and entered the school with Sidney, who linked onto his arm. She playfully slapped his forearm.
“You are smooth, Harlan Brendan. I’ve never seen anyone handle Ms. Palmer that way in my life, especially a man.” She looked at him while they walked and met his eyes. A cheap smile crossed her face. “You are good at what you do.”
“It’s my job to get as much information from people as possible. Though it’s usually about some animal attack or weather condition,” he said with a soft laugh. “Her story was full of holes.”
“She didn’t even get Alex’s name correct,” Sidney replied while groaning. “I think she just doesn’t remember much about that day. She’s not the most intelligent teacher in the building. Either that or she has a bad memory for detail.”
“Not details--just facts,” he replied simply. “So what was that about Paul Malcolm? It would appear he lied to you in your previous interview. Would you like to give me a shot at him while we’re here?”
“I’m not so sure we should be concerned about Miss Fisher’s death at the moment. Trisha’s our priority right now,” Sidney remarked gently and released his arm.
“We are working on Trisha’s disappearance. Someone in this pathetic town must have seen something at the library,” he insisted. “If Persha Palmer is right, there was someone in the back of the library last night before closing time. It could have been an abductor.”
“What we really need are the names of the kids who were doing the reports last night,” Sidney stated. “They were in Malcolm’s class. It’s a start.”
“Let’s talk to Malcolm while we’re here,” he announced. “Someone in this town saw something. Usually, it finds its way back to someone else.”
“Then I suggest we talk to Mrs. Randall and Mrs. Cooper when we’re finished with Malcolm,” she insisted. “Between those two, they know everything about this town.”
Harlan groaned with annoyance. “Precisely why I left. Too many damned busybodies.”
“Just two,” she teased.
“Two too many, if you ask me,” Harlan snorted.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Sidney and Harlan found Mr. Malcolm in the auditorium watching over a study hall class of nearly seventy students along with two other teachers. When Sidney asked him if he could talk for a minute, he was surprisingly cooperative. They went out into the empty hall where Sidney introduced him to Harlan. Both men shook hands.
“Ah, yes, Harlan. The photographer fella who worked for Herb.” He then looked at Sidney while grinning. “Dating his daughter now, huh?”
Harlan smiled and chuckled softly in his throat. “We’ve been seeing quite a bit of each other,” Harlan teased.
Harlan then explained how he was working on a feature story for his newspaper about the murder of Emily Fisher. Mr. Malcolm appeared impressed and accommodating.
“I’ll make this brief, since I have notes from Sidney’s earlier discussion with you,” Harlan remarked. “After school left out that day in September, did you recall seeing Emily Fisher leave the building? Maybe you would have noticed Alex’s car around the area?”
“No, I hadn’t seen either after school let out. As I told Sidney, Emily ran out of here as soon as we were dismissed,” Mr. Malcolm replied. “She only spoke to Persha before she’d left.”
“You’re sure she only spoke to Ms. Palmer?” Harlan questioned with a raised brow.
He nodded. “I heard their voices in the girls’ lavatory. Why women prefer talking in the bathroom is beyond me.”
“When was that?” Harlan asked.
“Just before we were dismissed at three-thirty,” he replied simply. “Half an hour after the students are dismissed.”
“Where did you go after school? Do you remember seeing either Emily or Alex as you left?” Harlan asked in a casual manner without looking up from his notepad.
“I didn’t see either of them on my way to Sam’s,” he informed him. “It’s a short trip.”
Harlan looked up and pointed with his pen. “Sam’s, huh? That’s perfect,” he announced and wrote on his notepad. “So you must have seen Alex at some point. Do you remember what time you reached Sam’s?”
“Of course I remember,” Mr. Malcolm announced. “I left here at quarter till four. I caught Billy and Denny hanging out after school smoking in the boy’s lavatory. Once I was finished yelling at them, I walked to Sam’s. I usually walk. The walk back helps clear my head,” he said with a slight laugh.
Harlan added a throaty chuckle, understanding his reasoning for wanting to walk.
“So I reached Sam’s around four o’clock. I stayed there until six, and then I walked back for my car.”
“What time did Alex arrive at the tavern?” Harlan asked. “He was late, wasn’t he?”
“He showed around five-thirty, which was half an hour late. Sam would have been upset, had he not been in the back watching the game. Alex seemed nervous about something. At the time, I thought it was just because he was late for work. After the police questioned us, I realized the real reason.”
“Was there anyone else at the tavern that you remember?” Harlan continued.
“Just one or two others, but no one I usually socialize with,” he replied. “So I don’t recall who they were anymore.”
Harlan wrote something on his notepad then studied it a moment with a curious look before glancing back at Malcolm. “See, now I’m a little confused. I was told you did speak to Emily Fisher just after school left out that day,” Harlan corrected then offered a tiny smile. “Someone had seen you. Would you care to tell me what you talked about?”
Mr. Malcolm became tense and fidgeted. “It didn’t seem important enough to mention,” he replied almost timidly. “We spoke briefly.”
“What about?” Harlan asked.
“Nothing much, really,” he replied.
“Did the conversation have anything to do with your affair with Emily?” Harlan pressed casually.
Mr. Malcolm frowned and drew a deep breath. “She mentioned she was getting back together with Alex,” he announced with a groan. “In her best interest, I tried to talk her out of it.”
“Did she mention anything about a letter?” Harlan asked and glanced at him.
Mr. Malcolm nodded and seemed surprised by the question. “Yes, she’d received a love letter from Alex. That’s what made her decide she was going to make amends.”
“Did she show it to you?” Harlan asked.
“Yes. Although, I found it strange that it was typed,” Mr. Malcolm replied. “It looked as if a child typed it. Some of the letters were higher than the others.”
Sidney held back her gasp and shifted looks at Harlan, who didn’t even flinch at the comment.
“It said something about meeting him at three forty-five or something like that,” Mr. Malcolm said simply.
“How can you be sure it was from Alex? Was it signed? What did she do with the note?” Harlan pressed.
Mr. Malcolm was silent a moment. “Well, I, uh--?” He then considered it a moment longer. “Actually, no, it wasn’t signed. She said it was from him, so I just assumed he gave it to her. She put the note back in her pocket.”
“Did you tell the police about the note,” Harlan asked while giving him a curious look.
“No,” he said with some embarrassment. “It didn’t seem important. I mean, they already had the evidence against him. I assumed they found the note on her.”
“I understand,” Harlan replied then tilted his head. “There’s just one more thing I’d like to ask you. A reliable witness overheard you arguing with Trisha Allister last night at the library just before it closed. It was something to do with Emily Fisher’s murder. Would you care to tell me the details of that argument?”
Mr. Malcolm stared at them a long moment with a surprised look on his face. “I wasn’t anywhere near the library last night. I got that Inter
net access on my computer. I haven’t been to the library since.” He laughed softly. “But there are plenty of people who have a grudge against Trisha. It could have been anyone with her.”
Harlan frowned. “Hmm, I guess my source isn’t so reliable after all. Were you anywhere near the library?” he asked.
“Nowhere near the library. I was at Sam’s, where I usually hold up,” he said with a timid smile. “I was there from the time school left out until nearly eight-thirty. Sam’s nephew was tending bar until eight o’clock last night. He’d verify I was there. I had a couple of drinks with Denny as well.” Malcolm laughed softly. “Though we did talk about Trisha briefly. I really do have better things to do than talk to that girl.”
“Thanks for your help, Mr. Malcolm,” Harlan announced and extended his hand.
Sidney watched the two men shake hands then followed Harlan down the hallway.
“Do we believe him?” she asked.
“As far as Trisha’s concerned, I think we have to believe both of them for now. Neither appeared nervous that we supposedly spoke to Trisha this morning. Had they been involved in a kidnapping plot, I think they’d be more surprised.”
“If we don’t find her soon, I’m afraid it’ll be too late,” Sidney said as her nervousness increased. A thousand horrible scenarios played in her mind. “We’re not getting anywhere.”
“We’re narrowing down her suspect list,” Harlan corrected. “Malcolm was her biggest rival. I think it’s safe to concentrate elsewhere.”
“Where do you suggest we look next? Maybe we should call the local taxi service,” Sidney suggested.
“That would be admitting she may have left town on her own,” Harlan said simply.
“I don’t care,” she snapped. “We have to find her. I could care less about this entire murder case right now. All I want is Trisha home alive.”
“All right. We’ll go to Sam’s,” Harlan replied. “You can use the pay phone there while I talk to Sam. He was always full of information.”
“Yeah, tons of the useless kind,” Sidney remarked lowly and allowed her irritation get the better of her.
“Do you have a better idea?” he asked sternly as they walked into the school parking lot.
“No,” she moaned softly.
He stopped her halfway to her rental car and forced her to face him. “I’m doing the best I can to find her.”
Sidney stared into his green eyes and held her breath. “I’m sorry, Harlan. I know you’re only trying to help,” she replied in a timid voice then became frustrated. “I just feel as if I should be knocking on doors demanding to search homes.”
He placed his arm around her shoulder and guided her toward the car. “We’ll stop at Sam’s then check with the local busybodies,” he announced in a soothing tone. “If we don’t learn anything after that, we’ll start tearing the town apart, okay?”
Sidney managed a nod and smiled. She believed him too.
Chapter Thirty
Harlan sat at the bar talking to Sam while Sidney argued with the taxi service over the pay phone in the corner of the smoke-filled room. She could see Sam smile and laugh at something Harlan said. She wondered what they were talking about.
“I’m telling you,” Sidney said into the phone with a groan. “There was a taxi here in Marilina last night around seven-thirty. Yours would be the only company that would possibly come this far. There are no others.”
“I have the roster in front of me, ma’am,” the man on the other end said firmly. “There were no pickups, no drop-offs, and no calls to that area. I assure you none of my guys even went there by accident.”
“A woman’s life is at stake here,” Sidney almost shouted.
“I’d really like to help you, lady, but there wasn’t anyone there last night or any night,” he informed her. “We sold some of our cabs a couple of weeks ago. Maybe someone bought one. It’s possible you saw someone with one of them.”
“Do you have a list of buyers?” Sidney asked with a spark of enthusiasm.
“Somewhere in this mess. I can call you back, but it’ll be a couple of hours,” he said simply.
“This is really important. I’ll call you back in an hour,” Sidney said firmly. “Would that be okay?”
“I’ll try to have that information for you by then,” he said while sighing.
She thanked him, hung up the phone, and joined Harlan at the bar. Both Harlan and Sam were laughing like old buddies. Sam was a tall, lean, muscular man with sandy blonde hair parted on the left side. With his bronze tan, he had the appearance of an old surfer. Sidney always had the impression that he was a womanizer, although she had nothing to support that theory.
“I’ve caught kids fooling around in the tavern basement already,” Sam announced while hiding his grin. “But I didn’t know that bomb shelter even existed.”
Sidney sat beside Harlan and glared at the cranberry colored, mixed drink before him. It seemed a little early in the morning to start drinking.
“How many of those have you had?” she asked sternly.
“Two,” he replied simply with a pleasant smile.
Sam laughed at her apparent nagging and attended to a man in a business suit at the opposite end of the bar.
“No luck?” Harlan asked, noting the defeated look on her face.
She shook her head and sighed. “I have to call him back in an hour. He said they sold some of their cabs last week.” Sidney took his drink from him and took a swallow. She made a face and looked at him. “This is cranberry juice!”
He laughed at her surprise. “Yes, I know. What did you think I’d be drinking before noon?”
Sam returned to Harlan’s end of the bar and dried some glasses. “So what brings you back to this hick town?” he asked with a humored grin.
Sidney observed all the gold jewelry Sam wore. He had a gold ring on each ring finger, a thick chain link bracelet, a gold watch, and a solid gold necklace around his thick neck.
“I’m doing a story on the murder of that schoolteacher,” Harlan announced casually.
Sam nodded and raised his brows. “Yes, I know the story well. Possibly the only really big thing to happen in this little town,” he remarked. “Shouldn’t be too hard to get the entire story. Mrs. Cooper and Mrs. Randall will tell you everything you never wanted to know about everyone in this town.”
“Actually,” Harlan said boldly. “I had been interviewing this young lady’s friend.” He pointed to Sidney. “Then, last night, she disappeared.”
Sam looked at Sidney then back to Harlan. “Are you talking about Trisha Allister?”
Harlan nodded and appeared curious. “Yes, had you heard something about her disappearance?”
“I wasn’t aware that she’d disappeared,” Sam remarked. “If she has, the word hasn’t gotten around yet.”
“We were supposed to meet her at the library last night, but she wasn’t there. Vanished without a trace,” Harlan announced and drank some of his juice. “Did you hear about anything suspicious happening last night?”
Sam’s brows knitted a moment. “Don’t really recall anyone mentioning anything involving Trisha,” he replied. “But there was another stranger in town last night. He came into the bar around eleven o’clock and started asking all sorts of questions.” Sam paused and tilted his head. “Come to think about it, he was asking about the teacher’s murder also.”
Sidney’s heart pounded harshly.
Harlan leaned forward on the bar with a suspicious look. “Did he give a name?”
Sam shrugged. “If he did, I wasn’t paying attention. He was talking to some of the other guys.”
“What did he ask?” Harlan questioned with great interest.
“He only asked me a few questions about the murder,” Sam informed him. “He wanted to know if I’d been here that day tending bar.”
“Were you?”
“I believe I was in the bar area until nearly six o’clock. After that, I went to my living room jus
t beyond the kitchen and watched the game until nearly six-thirty. That’s when the police came and arrested Alex right here in the bar,” Sam replied. “It was about an hour and a half after they found the body.”
“Was Paul Malcolm here that night?” Harlan asked with a curious look.
“That was a Friday. He’s always here on a Friday,” Sam remarked. “Though that particular Friday he just had one beer then left.”
“Are you sure?” Harlan asked with some confusion.
“I’m positive. He left around four o’clock. I remember because I thought it was strange for him to leave so early on a Friday night,” Sam reported. “I think he and his wife were having problems. He burned out in the stones in the driveway.”
“He drove that day? I thought he always walked here,” Harlan remarked.
“Usually does, but not that day,” Sam assured him while drying the same glass repeatedly.
The older man in the business suit staggered toward them and placed a hand on both Sidney’s and Harlan’s shoulders. “I was here last night,” he announced with the smell of whiskey on his breath. “I talked to that stranger about the murder.”
Harlan looked back at the man then made a face and turned his head away. Sidney could smell the whiskey without looking at the intoxicated man.
“What did he ask about the murder?” Harlan asked while attempting to avoid his whiskey breath.
“Buy me a drink, and I’ll tell you all about it,” the man said while leaning heavily onto Sidney’s shoulder.
Harlan requested a drink for the man. Sidney moved to another stool so the man would sit down and stop leaning on her shoulder. They listened to his story of the prior evening and discovered the man had asked many questions about the murder. He didn’t tell them anything that would help them identify the stranger.
“I also saw something odd last night,” the drunken man remarked from where he sat on the stool between Harlan and Sidney. “I saw a taxi pass the tavern around seven-thirty. Don’t see many of them around here.”
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