Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [79]
“I don’t like the changes,” Carina mumbled. “Why can’t killers be logical?”
“They are. In their own heads. Everything he does has a purpose. We might not be able to see it, but it’s there.”
“You sound like Dillon.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. I think he’s the smartest guy on the planet. Next to my dad, of course.”
She pulled into the Shack parking lot and said, “So he kills Becca. Watches the webcam to see when Jodi drinks the Coke. Sees it, dumps Becca’s body on his way to kidnap Jodi. Brazen, arrogant.”
“He’s ultraconfident right now. He’s gotten away with two murders. He thinks he’s invincible.”
“Becca lived and worked across town,” Carina said. “There doesn’t appear to be any connection between her and Angie or Jodi.”
“There is a connection between her and the killer, though. He didn’t pick her randomly. He knew her schedule, when she would be leaving the library. He was waiting for her.”
“Yes, but she didn’t regularly work on Wednesdays. She came in because they were short-handed.” Carina frowned.
“But Midge said the young man Becca spoke to looked familiar, that he’d been in before,” Nick reminded her. “Maybe Becca had told him she’d be working Wednesday night. For all we know, she’d made arrangements to meet with him.”
“So we’re looking for someone who knew Angie—knew her well enough to identify her from information on her journal. And who knew Becca, most likely through the library.”
“Steve said he used the library on campus,” Nick said. “That makes sense. If the killer goes to the university, why would he go to a public library? Why not the campus library?”
“He could live near there,” Carina said. “It’s convenient for him.”
“Or he doesn’t go to that college.”
“Then how would he be connected to Angie?”
“This place.” He motioned to the Shack. “Her work. Which connects to her feeling that someone who commented on her journal knew where she worked.”
The lunch crowd filled the tables in the Sand Shack. Carina saw Kyle behind the back counter. She waited until he was done with a customer before approaching him.
“Mr. Burns, you had a private party here last night, correct?”
“Yes, after Angie’s memorial service.”
“What time did you close up?”
“What’s this about?”
“Jodi Carmichael is missing. She was a friend of Angie’s. We’re hoping you know what time she left the Shack, who she left with, if anyone was watching her or asking about her.”
He looked confused at first. “Jodi? Um, the one with the short light-brown hair?”
“Yes.”
“She was here last night with her friends, after the memorial service. I don’t know when they left. But she wasn’t here when we closed up, which was about eleven.”
“Do you have a guest list?”
“Mrs. Vance asked people to sign in at the door. I don’t know that everyone did, but the hostess—Maggie last night—was greeting people.”
“Where’s the book now?”
“Mrs. Vance took it with her.”
Carina made a note.
Burns added, “Masterson showed up. Late. He didn’t go to the memorial service, at least I didn’t see him. I left early to set up the restaurant. But he showed up around ten-thirty and Steve Thomas had it out with him. I told them to take it outside. Thomas came back in fifteen minutes later.”
“And Steve Thomas was here the whole night?” Carina asked.
“Yes, he helped clean up. I know he drove Mrs. Vance and her mother home. He and some girl I didn’t recognize.”
“But you didn’t see Jodi leave.”
He shook his head. “By eleven almost everyone was gone and I know I didn’t have to ask her to leave like I did a couple other people.”
“Have you seen a solitary man hanging out over the past few weeks? Perhaps using the computers here?”
He gave her an incredulous look. “We have a lot of people who come in here alone. To eat, surf the Internet. Can you be more specific?”
“Around twenty, possibly a student, blond or light brown hair, six feet tall, slender.”
“That describes about twenty percent of my clientele,” Burns said. “I want to help, but you