The older lady’s eyes tapered with suspicion. “You’re the one from that magazine.”
“Yes.” Sarah nodded. “Truth Magazineis an investigative journal. We work particularly hard to find answers in tragic cases like this one.”
Marta’s hands settled on her hips. Not a good sign. “The problem here is simple,” she said frankly. “That Enfinger fellow has barged in with his big plans and walked all over our history. Mark my word, things won’t be right until he’s gone for good.”
“That may certainly be the case,” Sarah placated. “I was hoping you might be able to help me confirm some of the facts.”
The pleasant-looking, loose-tongued lady had been quoted in several newspapers. That was why her name was at the top of Sarah’s interview list. The woman loved to talk.
Marta glanced around the store. A gentleman, probably her husband, was at the counter running the register. A couple of stock boys were filling the shelves. Five, maybe six customers milled about. No one appeared to be paying attention to the quiet conversation going on in produce.
“Let’s go in the back,” Marta said with another quick assessment of the man behind the counter.
“Of course.” Sarah followed the lady through the double doors marked Employees Only. Conner was right behind her.
Marta went over to a large commercial sink and washed her hands. She pulled off a couple of paper towels and leaned against the counter. “Valerie Gerard was a good girl,” she began. “I’m sure Kale told you that.”
Sarah nodded to keep her talking. She had reviewed the history on the girl, as well as her social media pages. She appeared to have been a sweet girl. Not the typical rebellious teenager.
“Her family’s just devastated. She was their only child, and they’d poured everything they had into that girl. They had high hopes for her future. There was talk of Harvard.”
As any good parent would. Not that Sarah would know.
“She worked here during Christmas vacation,” Marta offered. “She was a hard worker and always kind to our customers. We didn’t have one complaint. She was never late and never missed a single day.”
“She sounds like the ideal teenager,” Sarah commented. She had this part already. What she wanted to learn was the flip side. Everybody had one. “Did she have a boyfriend?”
Marta moved her head from side to side. “She was too focused on her studies to be fooling with boys. She didn’t even date as far as I know.”
“That’s right,” Conner cut in. “She went to her senior prom single.” He said to Sarah, “Her friends have confirmed there was no boyfriend, then or now.”
“What about her friends?” Sarah looked from Conner to Ms. Hanover. “Did she have a lot of friends?”
“Not that many.” Marta pursed her lips a moment. “All you had to do was look at theYoungstown Sunto know that Valerie Gerard didn’t bother much with a social life. She was always involved in activities that would further her education or that supported the community.”
“How would you compare Valerie to Alicia, the girl who’s missing?”
Marta tossed the wadded-up paper towel into the closest trash receptacle. “No comparison.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Alicia has herself lots and lots of boyfriends. Parties. Big social life.” Marta threw up her hands. “Not that I’m talking bad about the girl. She’s a pretty good kid. Just a little wild. But no one”—her gaze locked with Sarah’s—“deserves this.”
“You’re so right. I certainly hope I can help find her.” Before it’s too late.
“Alicia’s always in the paper, too,” Marta went on. “She’s won all kinds of beauty pageants, and her grandparents have her in every kind of dance and theater activity around here. They take her to New York shopping about once a month. They’ve spoiled that child. Maybe a little too much.”
“Do you know the name of Alicia’s most recent boyfriend?”
“Brady Harvey,” Conner interjected. “His family owns the inn where you’re staying.”
Sarah hadn’t met the innkeeper’s family. She’d have to make it a point to do that. Brady definitely went on her list.
“Thank you, Ms. Hanover.” Sarah reached into the front pocket of her shoulder bag for a business card. “I hope you’ll call me if you think of anything you believe might be useful.”
Marta took the card, considered it, then set her attention on Sarah. “It’s the curse.”
Sarah started to let it go, but something in the woman’s eyes made her rethink that strategy. There was something more there than idle speculation. “Why do you say that?”
