“Police gave up on that whole deal.” Her arms crossed tightly, as she paused mid-step at the end of the counter. “What doyouhave to do with it?”
Pausing for a minute, I gauged my response, hoping I was taking the right tactic. “I didn’t know Allison, but just because they think she disappeared on her own doesn’t mean that’s true. Maybe something happened to her. I think there’s more to find out.”
“You’re not a cop.” She gave me a look up and down as she said it, taking in my t-shirt, jean shorts, and cowboy boots.
“Nope. Definitely not. Not that I have anything against cops in general.” Sucking my lip into my mouth, I pulledout a card and gave it to her. “I have a podcast that looks into crimes, mostly against women, where the case has gone cold, and the public has brought it to me for another look.”
She nodded and looked around the store casually. “She came here a lot with that husband of hers.” Her lips pursed again, and I read that message loud and clear. She didn’t like Trent Finch. “Once in a while, she came on her own.”
I leaned on the corner of the counter as she tapped one manicured nail on the glass while she gave me the rundown about Trent Finch. Apparently, he was a bastard, and Allison was too gentle for such a man.
“He treated her like shit. Always barking at her while she scurried after him. I didn’t like the look of him at all,” she said angrily, chewing her piece of gum furiously. “I’m telling you.” She narrowed her eyes. “What’d you say your name was?”
“Hattie Harper. What’s yours?” Pretending I couldn’t see her nametag well enough on my own.
“Traci, with a ‘i’.” She looked the card over for a minute, considering. “Trent works at the mill, so he’s in and out of here picking stuff up. Sometimes he’ll drop stuff off in the back yard so you can talk to them back there.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “He’s a hard man, so you should watch your step with him. Holds a grudge, ya know?”
“Yeah, I know the type.” The thing was, I did know the type. Both personally and professionally. The sad part was that most women recognized the type. Trent Finch wasn’t unique. “Allison came in here the day she disappeared, according to police. Was she with Trent, or was she alone?”
Traci leaned forward, her features sharpening. “Well, interesting that you mention that. I tried to tell those cops that, but they didn’t seem to think it was important. She rarely came alone. Poor thing.” She clucked her tongue. “But she did that day. I thought it was important, you know?” She chewed the pad of her thumb as she cocked an eyebrow, waiting for my reaction.
“It is interesting,” I agreed solemnly. It was. Anything out of character or out of someone’s pattern caught my interest. “Do you remember if she bought anything?”
“I sure do, honey. Hang tight.”
Traci hurried to the back office and returned with a few pieces of paper, which she spread out on the counter. “When the cops were here the first time, I had these ready for them when I heard they were looking for Allison.” Her eyes softened as she spread the papers out. “I felt sorry for her. There wasn’t much I could do, but …” She shook her head, her eyes not meeting mine. “I did go back through and make a copy of the receipts for the cops of the stuff that Trent bought in here and the stuff that she bought that day. Here.” She slid them over to me.
Thetwo photocopies were a bunch of receipts, but she’d organized them by date. The last one was the day Allison disappeared.
“The system uses codes, so I made the officers a cheat sheet to line things up, ya know?” She turned the last piece towards me and leaned onto the counter.
“This is amazing. Thanks so much, Traci. This is a big help.” My eyes scanned over the receipts and back, trying to line things up. “She bought a rope and a tarp?”
“Yep. And some duct tape and zip ties.” Her nail tapped over on the little cheat sheet she’d made. “See?”
“Huh. And …” My eyes flew over the receipts, my brain scrambling.
“I’m sure. It was her that day who bought them. He was at the mill that day at work.” I nodded, my brain still working as I examined the receipt. My finger traced the items on Trent’s receipts. “Here.”
She gave me a self-satisfied smirk. “I knew you’d catch it.”
“He bought almost the same five things just two months earlier?” I pulled back a little as my mind raced with the possibilities. Murder kit? Kidnapping kit? “And a shovel.”
“Cops said it didn’t mean anything. That they’d take the information, but that was all.” Her pencil-thin eyebrows pulled together as her brow wrinkled in a frown. “It’s weird.”
“It is weird,” I muttered. “I’m not exactly sure how it all fits together, but it definitely stands out to me, Traci.” She nodded and gave me a long look.
“So, if you’re gonna talk about it on your show or whatever? I don’t mind if you have to put my name.” She shrugged a little, her shoulders hunching. “Trent’s a dick, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem, and I already told the cops this stuff.”
“I’ll be talking about Allison’s disappearance on my podcast, but if someone wants to remain anonymous, I always respect that.” There was a chance that she wanted to change her mind, but I didn’t think so.
“Nah, it’s fine. Really. You want that caulk? Or was that just an excuse to come in here?” Her eyes narrowed.
“I want it.” I tried to sound believable.
She gave me a blistering smile and then turned so I could follow her through the small store, weaving through crowded aisles. “I have three different kinds. Weatherproof, like for outdoor use. Or stuff for indoor near a tub and shower, and then painters caulk.”
“The weatherproof stuff for outside.” Seemed the most useful kind. Who didn’t need caulking when you had twelve cabins to take care of? Traci nodded sagely as if she didn’t know I was shining her on, but walked me back up to the front counter and rang me up.
