sort of looked like her, but I dunno. Gave me the sweats.”
“Did you see her again? Did you see Erin at the office here again?”
Al shrugged. “I only went in the office once in a while. I wouldn’t have noticed when she was there or when she was gone.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Aw Char, I’m scared,” said Al, rattling his ice. “I’m scared to tell the sheriff. I thought I’d bounce it off you, see what you thought.”
“But why me?”
“Because you found her. Maybe you know stuff I don’t. And ’cuz you’re smart. Everybody knows it. You make a killing on trivia night. You and your nose always in those books,” he thrust a thumb towards the living room where Charlotte’s book Stonehenge stood. “And you’re close to Frank. I thought maybe you could help me out there, make sure he doesn’t arrest me? I know I didn’t do anything to her, but I’d feel better if I told him about it. Maybe it could help in some little way.”
Charlotte bit her lip, considering the possibilities and the best way to handle this new information.
“Do you mind if I make a phone call?”
“You callin’ the cops?” asked Al, beginning to stand.
“No! No, I’m going to call Declan. I want to see if he knows what his mother was wearing when she went missing.”
“Oh, like if it wasn’t white then it wasn’t her? That’s smart. See? I never thought about that. That’s good. That’s good. Careful how you tell him, though. He might not be so happy with me, y’know…that maybe I almost hit his mom with my car and all.”
“I’m just going to ask him about the clothes right now.”
Al settled back into his chair.
“Okay. You call him.”
Charlotte found her phone and dialed the number on the card Declan had given her the day they met.
“Hello?”
“Declan? It’s Charlotte. Quick question. What was your mother wearing when she disappeared?”
“What was she wearing? Why?”
“I just need to know. It’s probably nothing.”
“I don’t know,” he said after a pause. “I was asleep when she left. She was wearing her pajamas the last time I saw her. If she went out, she probably got redressed.”
“Were they white?”
“What?”
“Her pajamas.”
“Oh, no, they were navy, I do remember that. Like a cotton shorts outfit with little dots all over them. The dots were green, I think.”
“Was her car missing? Did she take it?”
“No. Wherever she went, she walked, or was picked up.”
“Where did you live then? Was it within walking distance of my house?”
“Of your house? I…I guess it was. Your part of the community wasn’t there then, but yes, we were just outside of Pineapple Port on your side of the development.”
“Hm…” said Charlotte, looking at Al. Declan’s information didn’t rule out the possibility that he had seen Erin on the road that night.
“What’s this about? Did you hear something?” asked Declan.
“No, I’ll tell you later. It’s probably nothing. I have to go, okay?”
He sighed. “Not really. I don’t see why—”
“I just can’t this second. I’ll talk to you soon, bye.”
She hung up and rubbed her lips with the knuckle of her left index finger, staring at Al, who had moved into the kitchen to hover near the scotch.
“What he say?” he asked.
“The last time Declan saw his mother she was wearing navy pajamas.”
“So it wasn’t her!” said Al, his face awash with relief.
“Not necessarily. He said she disappeared after he went to bed. If she decided to leave the house she would have changed.”
“Aah,” he grunted, face collapsing into a frown. “You got me all excited there for a second. I better have a drink.”
He poured himself another, an act that barely registered for Charlotte as she imagined a girl in white, captured in headlights, running down the street. It was a haunting image.
“Even if it wasn’t Erin, I wonder what happened to the girl you did see,” she mumbled.
“Maybe it was a
“Did you see her again? Did you see Erin at the office here again?”
Al shrugged. “I only went in the office once in a while. I wouldn’t have noticed when she was there or when she was gone.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Aw Char, I’m scared,” said Al, rattling his ice. “I’m scared to tell the sheriff. I thought I’d bounce it off you, see what you thought.”
“But why me?”
“Because you found her. Maybe you know stuff I don’t. And ’cuz you’re smart. Everybody knows it. You make a killing on trivia night. You and your nose always in those books,” he thrust a thumb towards the living room where Charlotte’s book Stonehenge stood. “And you’re close to Frank. I thought maybe you could help me out there, make sure he doesn’t arrest me? I know I didn’t do anything to her, but I’d feel better if I told him about it. Maybe it could help in some little way.”
Charlotte bit her lip, considering the possibilities and the best way to handle this new information.
“Do you mind if I make a phone call?”
“You callin’ the cops?” asked Al, beginning to stand.
“No! No, I’m going to call Declan. I want to see if he knows what his mother was wearing when she went missing.”
“Oh, like if it wasn’t white then it wasn’t her? That’s smart. See? I never thought about that. That’s good. That’s good. Careful how you tell him, though. He might not be so happy with me, y’know…that maybe I almost hit his mom with my car and all.”
“I’m just going to ask him about the clothes right now.”
Al settled back into his chair.
“Okay. You call him.”
Charlotte found her phone and dialed the number on the card Declan had given her the day they met.
“Hello?”
“Declan? It’s Charlotte. Quick question. What was your mother wearing when she disappeared?”
“What was she wearing? Why?”
“I just need to know. It’s probably nothing.”
“I don’t know,” he said after a pause. “I was asleep when she left. She was wearing her pajamas the last time I saw her. If she went out, she probably got redressed.”
“Were they white?”
“What?”
“Her pajamas.”
“Oh, no, they were navy, I do remember that. Like a cotton shorts outfit with little dots all over them. The dots were green, I think.”
“Was her car missing? Did she take it?”
“No. Wherever she went, she walked, or was picked up.”
“Where did you live then? Was it within walking distance of my house?”
“Of your house? I…I guess it was. Your part of the community wasn’t there then, but yes, we were just outside of Pineapple Port on your side of the development.”
“Hm…” said Charlotte, looking at Al. Declan’s information didn’t rule out the possibility that he had seen Erin on the road that night.
“What’s this about? Did you hear something?” asked Declan.
“No, I’ll tell you later. It’s probably nothing. I have to go, okay?”
He sighed. “Not really. I don’t see why—”
“I just can’t this second. I’ll talk to you soon, bye.”
She hung up and rubbed her lips with the knuckle of her left index finger, staring at Al, who had moved into the kitchen to hover near the scotch.
“What he say?” he asked.
“The last time Declan saw his mother she was wearing navy pajamas.”
“So it wasn’t her!” said Al, his face awash with relief.
“Not necessarily. He said she disappeared after he went to bed. If she decided to leave the house she would have changed.”
“Aah,” he grunted, face collapsing into a frown. “You got me all excited there for a second. I better have a drink.”
He poured himself another, an act that barely registered for Charlotte as she imagined a girl in white, captured in headlights, running down the street. It was a haunting image.
“Even if it wasn’t Erin, I wonder what happened to the girl you did see,” she mumbled.
“Maybe it was a
Similar Books
