“He still a rock hound?”
“Don’t know. Maybe.”
“Okay, and you said there were others.”
“Well, yeah. Knox and, you’ll love this, your buddy Wes, once in a while.”
“Wes? You mean Westin Stark? The preacher?”
“He’s not a regular. But, yeah, he’s been there a couple of times.”
“Was he there the night Mavis died?”
“Dunno. I wasn’t there that night, remember?”
“Right.” When she’d checked Archer’s alibi with the bartender, he hadn’t mentioned the preacher. Still, she couldn’t help feeling she was finally getting somewhere, that a few of the loose ends surrounding the recent murders might be starting to connect. “And you said ‘Otis’?”
“Right. Otis Childers.”
As in Billy Huber’s neighbor. “He’s always part of the group?”
“Always? Not really. But I guess he shows up as much as anyone. He and Knox and Stoney don’t often miss.”
“Knox Quinlan.”
“Yep. Now, if the inquisition is over …” He finished his drink and stood. “I’ve really got to run. Tell Lily it was great seeing her.” His smile was ironic.
“I will,” she said, before she, with Chloe and the dogs tagging after, walked him to the front door.
“You know,” he said, pausing on the porch, “Mom has a point. We shouldn’t let time get in the way. Or away from us. That’s been my fault, I know. But we live in the same town, so …”
“So.” She agreed, nodding. “We’ll try.”
He managed a grin, and once again she remembered the boy she’d once known, the kid with freckles, a gap-toothed smile. More often than not, Kyle had sported a raspberry on his knee or a scraped elbow or a black eye or some other injury he’d sustained by being totally reckless, and according to their father, “having more balls than brains.” But that was the nature of their family, each of them daredevils in their own way, each super competitive.
As a child, Kyle had been her best friend.
And then, later, he was gone.
Maybe that could change.
Then again, she thought as he drove away, maybe not.
Chapter 30
Pierce took the call from Jamison.
“I’m in my office. Come on down.”
“On my way.” Pierce cast a glance at his partner and told her where he’d be.
“How long will it take?” Sol asked, her gold eyes assessing. As if she knew something serious was up, something even more out of the ordinary than usual.
“I’ll fill you in once I know.” He left in a hurry and made his way through the crowded hallway to Jamison’s office.
“Close the door,” Jamison instructed, waving Pierce into one of the visitor’s chairs in front of his desk.
“I don’t know anything new,” he admitted, as Pierce took a seat. “I called all of Naomi’s friends, checked with Roxie, even called the hospitals again, but … nothing. No one’s heard or seen anything. It’s like she just vanished.” Despite the dark circles under his eyes and the tension evident in his tight jaw, Jamison looked every bit the lawyer he was. His still-damp hair was slicked back, and he’d shaved and donned a suit and tie. His shirt was crisp, the knot of his tie precise, his suit pressed. Somehow he’d managed to pull himself together. At least on the surface. “Whatever it takes, we have to find out what happened to her.”
