Murder Mountain by Stacy Dittrich Page B

faster. “Lizzie started shaking, yelling at me to get into the car. So I got into the car, y’know? Then Lizzie peeled out, going down the dirt road about 60 miles an hour. I kept asking her what was wrong, and she kept saying, ‘Did ya hear him? Didja hear him! I’m dead!’
    “I didn’t understand what she was talking about, but halfway to Ohio she started insisting that we were being followed, y’know? I tell ya, by this time I was too scared to turn around and look, and by the time we got back and Lizzie’d dropped me off here, I tell ya, I ran in and locked all the doors, y’know?”
    I waited, but it seemed as if he was finished, so I asked, “Then what happened?”
    “Nothing. That’s it. That was the last time I saw her; exactly ten days ago.”
    I just sat there for a few minutes, soaking it all in and thinking about how it was such a far-fetched story, but, damn it, for whatever reason, I believed him. Matt seemed scared to death, constantly looking around us as if we were being watched.
    “Well, maybe there’s some more, I think,” Matt blurted out, interrupting my thoughts.
    “Well, go on then and tell me everything.”
    “No, I mean I think there’s more girls that are gone. I can’t prove it, though,” he said quietly.
    “Matt,” I said, keeping my voice low and urgent, “you better tell me what you know, and now. I haven’t heard of any other girls missing.”
    “You probably wouldn’t. These girls live by themselves and keep to themselves. They usually don’t talk to their families much, so who’s gonna report ’em? Anyway, the reason I said that is I’ve heard Bob on the phone, y’know? I don’t know who he was talking to, but he said, ‘I got me another runner spot; the big boys fired another one.’ And when he said fired, I don’t think he meant they got put on unemployment.”
    I could feel the blood drain from my face, and I just closed my eyes. If this was true, then I definitely needed help.
    And then, finally, the question I dreaded asking Matt: “So what does Bob look like?”
    I already knew the answer but sat quietly as Matt described Bobby Delphy from head to toe. I asked him if he had anything to add, and he said nothing he could think of. As I was leaving, he reminded me of the promise I’d made not to use his name, and how I would check out giving him a break on the theft. I nodded and waved him off at the same time, knowing I’d never promised him shit about giving him a break. Looking into it and making a deal are two different things, and, as far as I was concerned, he’d do time for that theft.
    As I pulled out of Matt’s driveway, my head was spinning. A list of things to do and people to call overwhelmed me. I needed to find out if Lizzie Johnston’s car had ever been found, and, if it was, where I could see it. I needed to contact missing persons and pull all the files of women reported missing over the last three years, and I needed to check the address Matt gave me of where he’d met Bob.
    I knew this would be a lot of work. Every woman who leaves the state to escape an abusive husband or a criminal charge is reported missing at one time or another. I would have to contact METRICH about any of the anhydrous ammonia thefts. I needed to call Lizzie’s father.
    I looked at my watch again and figured I would just barely make it to Selina’s softball game. No one would have any of the information I needed until tomorrow, so there wasn’t a whole lot to do. Once I got the information I needed, and only then, would I go and see Bobby Delphy.
    I pulled into the ballpark in time to miss just the first inning of Selina’s game, which included her turn at bat. I knew she’d be upset.
    When she saw me, she came running over, crying, “Mommy! You’re late! You promised! I got a double!”
    I told her I was sorry and would make it up to her. She ran out onto the field while I looked for Eric, finding him sitting next to a large mound of dirt, which of