Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [13]
“The streets are dangerous,” Will agreed, glancing down at the schedule. “It says Angie worked from four to ten.”
“Yeah, but she was hanging out with some friends until much later.”
“Until when?”
“I’m not sure, but at least midnight. That’s when her ex-boyfriend came in and I had to escort him out.” He shook his head. “Angie really knows how to pick them. Dammit, I should have talked to her, done something to, hell, I don’t know.”
A knock on the door interrupted Carina’s next question.
Burns leaned over and slid open the door. “What’s up?”
A tall, clean-cut teen, probably a college student like most of the employees at the Shack, looked at Carina and Will curiously. “Uh, Kyle, the Pepsi guy’s here. He wants you to sign off on the new order.”
“Tell him I’ll be out in five minutes. Go ahead and put the stock away, I trust you’ll make sure everything’s there.”
The kid nodded, hesitating as if he were going to ask something, then slid the door closed.
“Anything else?” Burns asked.
“You said you escorted Angie’s ex-boyfriend out. Do you know his name?”
“Steve Thomas. A couple weeks ago he came in when Angie was on duty and they got into a huge fight, both of them yelling. The next day, Angie tells me she filed a restraining order against him.”
“Do you remember what the argument was about?”
“I’m not sure, but the rumors going around were that Steve still had the hots for Angie and lectured her about Masterson. Angie doesn’t like being told what to do and who to date, but Steve was right on the money about that low-life Masterson.” He sighed and suddenly looked older than what Carina had pegged as twenty-five. “I liked Angie, but the men she dated were all too old for her. Steve has to be nearly forty. Masterson is over thirty. There were at least four or five other guys Angie brought in since she started working here last summer, all of them over thirty.” He shook his head, frowning.
“On Friday,” Carina asked, “what time did Angie leave?”
“I’m not sure. Probably shortly after I escorted Steve out, which was just after midnight. He wasn’t happy, but he didn’t give me a bad time.”
“What did he say?”
Burns paused, thinking. “I think he said, ‘Tell Angie to be careful.’ ”
Outside, Carina and Will called into dispatch to update the patrol watching Steve’s apartment. Carina turned to Will. “Steve Thomas flat-out lied to us. He said ten, Burns says midnight.”
“And just put himself at the top of the suspect list.”
Maybe he was being paranoid, but he went home during lunch to double check that there was nothing of Angie’s left in his room.
There was a smell, something that hadn’t been there before. He went to the bathroom, pulled a can of Lysol disinfectant from under the sink, and sprayed it in the bathroom, bedroom, and then everywhere else. Just in case.
He’d made his bed with fresh linens before he left. Now he sat down and looked around. Everything was neat, organized, as it should be.
He reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a metal box, about the size of a shoe box, and ran his fingers over the combination lock until it sprang open.
Inside were pictures, a couple small jars, a knife, a few other items that held special importance for him.
And a faded birthday card from his father, still in the envelope postmarked Corcoran Prison.
He didn’t look at the card, which was underneath everything else. Instead, he picked up the newest addition to the box, Angie’s navel ring.
The first time he’d seen the navel ring he’d been at the Sand Shack and she’d walked in, off-duty, wearing a bikini top and short-shorts. He stared, he couldn’t help it. It was like a light was shining on her, a bright light, and everything became clear.
He knew Angie. She and his online fantasy were one and the same.
He didn’t need to confirm it, but he did. Right there. He couldn’t wait until he went home. He logged onto a computer—the Shack had several hookups—and went to MyJournal.com. Click, click, click.
There.
The navel ring, one of the “A for Anonymous” pictures, right there next to the journal