“Yeah, but she told me she was fine, just had a lot to do that day.”
A chilling thought jumped out at me. “Could someone have been in the house with her when you called?”
“No, nothing like that. But something seemed to be on her mind.”
“About her personal life maybe?”
“Look, as I told you, she didn’t say. And now, no offense, but we need to shut this down. I want to head up to Dot’s to help out.”
“Understood,” I said, sliding off the stool. “Does Shannon have any other close friends?”
“Shan’s not one of those people who needs a gaggle of friends. We have each other, and that seems to be enough for her.”
“What about her sister—are they tight?” I was thinking of the little stink bomb Matt Wong had dropped about Kelly.
“They’ve had their issues, but again, I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“Just curious. They don’t get along?”
“When Shannon moved back here from Anguilla with Cody, her father immediately brought him into the family business, and then a few years ago, when Mr. Baker became ill, he turned it over to Cody to run. Kelly resented that.”
“Would she have wanted her own husband to work there?”
“Doug? He already runs a chiropractor business. The rumor was that Kelly would have liked it for herself. I hear she doesn’t love some of Cody’s choices, but the proof’s in the pudding, as they say—the business seems to be booming. Now if you don’t mind, I really need to split.”
She began moving toward the front of the house.
“So you were camping in the Adirondacks?” I said as Itrailed behind her. The back of my brain had been noodling over what she’d said about having no cell reception, which seemed odd to me—why would a mother with young kids go someplace where she couldn’t be reached?
“Not camping. Off the record again, that was a little white lie. The place where I was staying is a cabin my dad built. After he died this spring, my mother decided to sell it, and I’ve been promising to spruce the place up for her. I’m a real-estate stager, just so you know. It was my kids’ days at my ex’s house, so I figured I’d just go up there and start the process. I didn’t love not having cell service, but I figured the kids would be fine for a day and a half.”
“Why the camping story?”
“Because the less my ex knows about my damn business, the better. A guy I’m seeing was planning to meet me the night I arrived.”
“And you didn’t see any reports on TV while you were up there?”
“We never bothered with a TV there.” She swung open the front door. “Bye.”
“Thanks again for your time,” I said, handing over a card and extracting my fingers just in time to prevent them from being pinched by the closing door.
I needed to be on the move myself. I’d stolen a peek at the kitchen clock and seen that it was going on nine. There was a stop I hoped to make before the press conference at ten.
From J.J.’s house, I jogged back to the school and headed to the address I’d found for Baker Beverage Distributors, about four miles south of the village of Lake George. Codyprobably wouldn’t be around today, but I was hoping to chat with a few more of the employees.
The building was set back a bit from the road, on a couple of nicely landscaped acres. It was huge and industrial-looking, covered with metal siding, though there was a natty striped awning over the door to the front office, placed there, I assumed, to make that section look inviting for clients. I pulled into a small lot by the office, though I could see a larger parking area along the rear half of the building, filled with big beverage trucks emblazoned with soda and beer logos.
I was halfway to the office door when I noticed the sign in the window. “The office is closed this week, but deliveries are being made. If you have any questions, please call and leave a message and someone will respond shortly.”
I sighed in frustration over making the trip for nothing. I knew some of the staff were helping in the search, but I hadn’t realized that Baker would actually be closed.
Dot’s was so packed when I returned that I was lucky to grab a parking spot. A podium had already been set up a few feet beyond the overhang, and the place was abuzz with press and volunteers obviously eager for an update. I spotted both Wong and Alice Hatfield, plus J.J., who was talking solemnly to another woman. And Terry Dobbs, the owner of the Lake Shore Motel, was in the mix today. Volunteering, I wondered, or simply rubbernecking?
I managed to snag a spot for myself toward the front of the crowd, not far from the podium. From this vantage point I could see that Sheriff Ed Killian was already present, positioned beneath the overhang, along with two deputies. Withhim were Kelly; her husband, Doug; a girl of about twelve or thirteen, who appeared to be their daughter; and Shannon’s mother, her glazed eyes suggesting she had attempted to quell her angst with heavy meds. Right next to her was a man in a white clerical collar—a priest or minister. I recalled what Dobbs had told me about Shannon not running on Sundays because it was a church day. This was probably her pastor, here to lend support to the family.
Cody was up in front, too, though removed slightly from the others. Perhaps as the hours had passed, the family had grown suspicious, and they were now keeping a slight distance, both literally and figuratively. A woman I didn’t recognize was standing directly behind Cody—an attractive redhead, probably in her mid-thirties. As I observed, Cody turned and spoke to her in a neutral manner, one that suggested she might be his assistant, the one who had supplied a partial alibi for him on Monday morning. Nothing about their body language suggested anything more intimate, but I would have to keep my eye on their interactions.
At exactly one minute after ten, Sheriff Killian strode assuredly toward the podium. He was about fifty, handsome in a sheriffy way, and lacking the potbelly so common in men in his age group. He had an imposing presence, due in part to his high, felt-covered campaign hat, which made him appear to be around six feet nine.
