smart-aleck grin.
“What’s the theory in the department?”
“The popular guess—a stalker killed her. Abigail Armstrong was a looker. She must‘a been forty but could have easily passed for thirty at the time she vanished. We checked Lincoln Armstrong inside and out, but we couldn’t find a motive. We never found an affair on either side. If he did it, he’s one smart hombre. ”
“He is that. Intelligent, I mean. Armstrong didn’t kill his wife. Trust me on that.”
“If you say so.” He gave me a mock salute.
“Any evidence she was being stalked?”
“A couple of neighbors remembered a man parked in a car outside the Armstrong property several times the week she vanished. They couldn’t agree on the model or even the color. We didn’t have enough information to find the guy.”
“Did you follow up on the country club angle?”
“Sure we did. It wasn’t my case, but I helped Art, the detective who caught the assignment. We interviewed the staff and every guest there that night. Considering who she was, and the press frenzy, the mayor was on our backs. The people we talked to all agreed she seemed fine when she arrived, but her mood changed just before she left.”
Marie called us to pick up our order, and we dropped the case while we ate.
“I hope my reward in Heaven will be a mountain of cheeseburgers just like this,” Amos said and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “With a hill of banana pudding on the side.”
I chuckled. “You’re a man of simple needs, Amos Horne.”
“Hey, guys. You plotting the downfall of the Republic?” A slender brunette laughed and slid into the booth beside me. The collar of her blue police uniform couldn’t quite hide the ugly white scar that ran across her throat. Jessie Bolton and I were old friends. I’d been the officer on duty the night her husband tried to kill her.
“Nothing that easy, Jess. I’m trying to rescue an abused family.”
“Anybody I know?” She took one of my fries and dragged it through Amos’ ketchup.
I shoved the rest of the fries in front of her. “Do you know Rachel London?”
She dropped the food back on the tray and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Yeah. I’ve met her, and I’ve met the judge. Ask me if I’m surprised. Mrs. London had the look of a whipped puppy.”
“What are you doing these days,” I asked. “Still patrolling the streets?”
She shook her head. “Mostly babysitting drunks in the county jail. It’s worked out better for me. Regular hours and I get to spend more time with my two kids.”
“Have you had lunch?” Amos asked. “Noah will spring for a burger if you want.”
“Thanks, but I was on my way out when I saw you guys. Wanted to say hi since I haven’t seen you in a while.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Take care, big guy.”
The touch of her lips on my cheek told me all was not well with Jessie. Her husband would finish his prison sentence in ten months. And she knew he would be coming after her.
I watched her leave with more than a little concern. Jessie needed to get out of Hebron soon, without leaving a trail her husband could follow.
Amos tapped his finger on the Armstrong case book. “You gonna solve this, Noah, and make us look bad?”
“That’s what I’ll try to do. Not to make you look bad but to help a very sad man find out what happened to the woman he loved.”
“That would be Armstrong.”
“You never cease to amaze me with your perceptive grasp of the obvious.”
“You have to remember, I’m just an underpaid detective, not a big-bucks P.I.”
If only he knew how seldom a client like Armstrong came along. The lunch crowd began to trickle out to go do whatever they did. I leaned back in the booth and smiled. “I get paid for my infinite knowledge of the criminal mind.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Speaking of Judge London, what’s the scuttlebutt at the precinct on him?”
A dark expression came over Amos’s face. “We catch ’em. He
“What’s the theory in the department?”
“The popular guess—a stalker killed her. Abigail Armstrong was a looker. She must‘a been forty but could have easily passed for thirty at the time she vanished. We checked Lincoln Armstrong inside and out, but we couldn’t find a motive. We never found an affair on either side. If he did it, he’s one smart hombre. ”
“He is that. Intelligent, I mean. Armstrong didn’t kill his wife. Trust me on that.”
“If you say so.” He gave me a mock salute.
“Any evidence she was being stalked?”
“A couple of neighbors remembered a man parked in a car outside the Armstrong property several times the week she vanished. They couldn’t agree on the model or even the color. We didn’t have enough information to find the guy.”
“Did you follow up on the country club angle?”
“Sure we did. It wasn’t my case, but I helped Art, the detective who caught the assignment. We interviewed the staff and every guest there that night. Considering who she was, and the press frenzy, the mayor was on our backs. The people we talked to all agreed she seemed fine when she arrived, but her mood changed just before she left.”
Marie called us to pick up our order, and we dropped the case while we ate.
“I hope my reward in Heaven will be a mountain of cheeseburgers just like this,” Amos said and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “With a hill of banana pudding on the side.”
I chuckled. “You’re a man of simple needs, Amos Horne.”
“Hey, guys. You plotting the downfall of the Republic?” A slender brunette laughed and slid into the booth beside me. The collar of her blue police uniform couldn’t quite hide the ugly white scar that ran across her throat. Jessie Bolton and I were old friends. I’d been the officer on duty the night her husband tried to kill her.
“Nothing that easy, Jess. I’m trying to rescue an abused family.”
“Anybody I know?” She took one of my fries and dragged it through Amos’ ketchup.
I shoved the rest of the fries in front of her. “Do you know Rachel London?”
She dropped the food back on the tray and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Yeah. I’ve met her, and I’ve met the judge. Ask me if I’m surprised. Mrs. London had the look of a whipped puppy.”
“What are you doing these days,” I asked. “Still patrolling the streets?”
She shook her head. “Mostly babysitting drunks in the county jail. It’s worked out better for me. Regular hours and I get to spend more time with my two kids.”
“Have you had lunch?” Amos asked. “Noah will spring for a burger if you want.”
“Thanks, but I was on my way out when I saw you guys. Wanted to say hi since I haven’t seen you in a while.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Take care, big guy.”
The touch of her lips on my cheek told me all was not well with Jessie. Her husband would finish his prison sentence in ten months. And she knew he would be coming after her.
I watched her leave with more than a little concern. Jessie needed to get out of Hebron soon, without leaving a trail her husband could follow.
Amos tapped his finger on the Armstrong case book. “You gonna solve this, Noah, and make us look bad?”
“That’s what I’ll try to do. Not to make you look bad but to help a very sad man find out what happened to the woman he loved.”
“That would be Armstrong.”
“You never cease to amaze me with your perceptive grasp of the obvious.”
“You have to remember, I’m just an underpaid detective, not a big-bucks P.I.”
If only he knew how seldom a client like Armstrong came along. The lunch crowd began to trickle out to go do whatever they did. I leaned back in the booth and smiled. “I get paid for my infinite knowledge of the criminal mind.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Speaking of Judge London, what’s the scuttlebutt at the precinct on him?”
A dark expression came over Amos’s face. “We catch ’em. He
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