Silent Victim - C. E. Lawrence [29]
“Oh, one more thing,” Butts said. “Do you happen to have the phone number of her boyfriend—what’s his name again?” Lee had told him the boyfriend’s name was Raymond, but Butts sometimes liked to get information out of people that he already had, just to see how they reacted to the question.
“Uh, it’s Raymond, isn’t it? Raymond Santiago. Yes, I think I do—I believe that’s the number she gave me as an emergency contact.”
“So you never met him?” said Lee.
“No. I believe he picked her up from work once or twice, but I don’t know if he ever came inside the restaurant. He’s the day manager at the Black Bass over in Lumberville—he might be working the lunch shift today.”
El Naga arranged for them to talk to the rest of the staff, most of whom had been working last week’s Sunday brunch. Apparently it was one of their busiest meals of the week. The only person who got a look at the customer in question was the maître d', whose name was Assaf Hussein.
“I wish I had gotten a better view of his face,” he said, “but the man was sitting with his back to me. I can tell you this: he was rather tall, but slight of build, so I was surprised that Ana felt threatened by him at all. He was not an imposing-looking man, from behind, at any rate.”
“What about hair color, race, that kind of thing?” Butts asked eagerly.
“Well, he was definitely Caucasian,” Hussein said. “His hair was quite straight and rather light in color—sort of a light mousy brown, I think. From the back he didn’t seem to be at all the kind of man who stood out in a crowd. I meant to get a look at his face as he left, but he slipped out quietly while my back turned, I’m afraid. It was quite a busy day, even for a Sunday.”
“Did she ever mention him again?” Lee asked.
“No, she didn’t. She worked three shifts later that week but never mentioned him again to me. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he said. “I really liked Ana. She was troubled, you know, but I had a sense that her life was beginning to turn around, and I was glad for her. Terrible for a thing like this to happen to such a young person.”
“Yeah,” said Butts. “It’s a bitch, ain’t it?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lee and Butts decided to push on to Lumberville and drop in on Raymond Santiago at the Black Bass. They declined Sayeed El Naga’s invitation to dine at the Swan as his guests. It seemed inappropriate to take advantage of his hospitality at a time like this, especially after interviewing the staff about their murdered colleague.
Butts had his regrets, though. As they climbed into the dark green Saturn sedan, he said, “It sure smelled great in there. Sorry we couldn’t stay.”
“It just didn’t feel right to me,” Lee said as he started the engine. “Don’t you think it would have been uncomfortable?”
“Yeah,” Butts sighed, buckling his seat belt. “But it sure smelled great.”
Lee circled around the back of town before heading west over the bridge to Pennsylvania. Lambertville looked prosperous but relaxed on this Tuesday in late August. He saw children playing on the wide sidewalks, riding their bikes or Razor scooters, and others splashing in plastic pools on grassy side lawns. School would be starting in a week or so.
Lee remembered the feeling of wanting to fill the final glorious days of summer with as much activity as possible.
As he turned onto the bridge across the river, Butts said, “I wonder what that was we smelled cooking. God, it smelled great.”
“Look, I’m sorry,” Lee said. “But don’t you think it would have been weird to stay?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Butts agreed, but he didn’t sound convinced.
“I’ll tell you what,” Lee suggested. “If we can, we’ll eat at the Black Bass, okay?”
Lee turned north on the River Road, which would take them to Lumberville, to the Black Bass Hotel.
Lumberville was a hamlet tucked along a narrow strip of land on a section of the Delaware where the river lay far below sheer rocky cliffs on one side, while on the other side the wooded hills rose abruptly and steeply from the town. Settlers in the eighteenth century had managed to carve out a