“I appreciate you being willing to come forward. It’s all super good information.” I picked up the tube of caulk. “If you think of anything else, you can reach out. My contact info is on the card.”
“Sure thing, doll. Good luck. I sure hope you can figure it out. That poor thing.” She shook her head sadly.
Back in the car, I jotted down a few notes about my conversation with Traci before taking some pictures of the hardware store. I’d already gone around town yesterday and snapped plenty of photos to help me get into the groove. Later, when I was back at the cabin, I would start organizing things to piece them together and help clarify my thoughts on Allison’s timeline. Some of the pictures would go on the website right before the first podcast. That was when things would start cranking. People would start posting, and everyone would get busy helping me solve this.
The reality was that someone probably killed Allison Finch. The question was who? It was true that you needed to focus on the basics when investigating a crime and motives. I’d look at all of those things … but someone who knew her was at the top of my list.
While driving past the mill where Trent Finch worked, I stopped to take pictures. Later, once I had a better understanding of the case, I planned to talk to him, too, but not yet. Traci had already confirmed that he’d been a dick to her, and even if the police had cleared him, he didn’t have an alibi.
I turned the car toward Dinah’s Eats — a diner that looked like it should smell like pancakes and heartbreak, and it did. The police report didn’t mention questioning anyone there, but it was worth a try.
Margo, the waitress, had kind eyes and a voice like someone who’d seen the worst and smoked three packs of cigarettes a day while she did it. She said Allison came in alone once a week. “She’d tip three dollars for a coffee. She’d fold those dollar bills in half. Crisp, like she did it in advance. I always thought it was a little kooky, but she was a cutie.” She clucked her tongue. “That husband of hers. He comes in once in a while for the hash. The corned beef one, not the pork.” She gave me a look that said I should know that already, but I kept myself still and didn’t mention that any kind of hash made me want to vomit. All those pieces together? Who even knew what they ground up in it? “He’s a piece of work. He actually laughed about the cops wasting their time on the whole thing. Can’t imagine someone not looking for her. She couldn’t have been older than my granddaughter.”
A man at the counter chimed in with another comment about Trent’s temper. “That boy is angry all the time. He should stay in King Valley and stop bothering us over here,” he muttered into his coffee.
I perked up. The Finches rented a home in King Valley, nearly twenty-five minutes away from Briar Falls, but Trent made the drive over for the mill work. I wasn’t totally sure why Allison would be coming here at all.
“He works over at the mill, huh?” I mumbled over my coffee towards the man at the counter.
The older man looked at me carefully for a minute. “That’s right. Got that job ‘cuz he’s friends with Barry.”
My brain scrambled to figure out if I’d seen a ‘Barry’ in any of the information I’d pulled on Trent Finch and how that would slot into making a difference to him being able to get a job at the mill, but then Margo supplied, “Chief Galloway’s boy. He and Trent are friends.”
Ah, well, that was interesting. I filed that away for later. After finishing my coffee (which was terrible) and leaving a generous tip for Margo, I headed to my car to record everything. My thoughts were disorganized but rapid, woven with facts and feelings, and the instinct that something here was off. It was an obvious conclusion that the husband was responsible. He sounded like he was an abusive fuck, and he was friends with the son of the police chief. It seemed like a slam dunk in the corruption category.
Taking a deep breath, I made my final stop at the gas station outside of Briar Falls. It had been documented in the police report that Allison had stopped to fill up.
The pimply faced teenager didn’t have much to add to the story, but had been apologetic.
“I don’t know, man. She was just upset,” he shrugged. “Said she was getting free.”
Getting free.
The same words Jane used to say when she was overwhelmed. The same words I had ignored the night before she disappeared.
The sky bruised purple on the drive back to Wildwood Meadows. The ridge to my right cast long shadows, swallowing chunks of the road in darkness as I thought about all the people I’d spoken to, starting with Traci, then Margo, the others at the diner, and the gas station attendant. They’d seen her, but they hadn’theardher.
That made me mad.
CHAPTER 9
Pod
The J & J Hour, Episode 41 — “What Happened to Allison Finch?”
HATTIE HARPER:
Welcome back toThe J & J Hour. I’m so happy that you’re back here with me tonight. I know that I wouldn’t be anywhere else, and I’m so grateful for every one of you out there listening and following.
Today, I’m coming to you from Wildwood Meadows, Oregon, which will be my base for my next case. Wildwood Meadows feels like it’s straight out of small-town America, and I see your comments already, so hold your horses. I’m talking about a main street, three stoplights, and the cutest little shops lining it up and down—tons of trees everywhere, and people who actually smile at you when youwalk by. I already love it here, and I’m not sure that you’ll convince me to ever leave.
If you’ve been following, you’ll know that my last case was pretty rough. I couldn’t get a decent cup of coffee anywhere, so this time I’m looking forward to a change of pace.
My accommodations aren’t lacking, and this time I’m definitely in the lap of luxury. Moving up in the world. I’m staying in the cutest little cabin you’ve ever seen, and my neighbor is pretty nice, too.
Today we’re officially starting a new case. And if you’ve been following this podcast since its early days, when it was recorded on my phone while I was still figuring out the ropes. Well, you know that I don’t pick cases lightly.
You know that I won’t disappoint, and once again I’m going to make sure that we’re going to follow all the clues that we have and every step to see if every one of us here atThe J & J Hourcan pull out a resolution.
