The Big Dig by Linda Barnes

she work with him, go to school with him?”
    â€œWe don’t know her Boston friends,” Helen ventured. “I don’t remember any Peter from her high school crowd.”
    â€œGal didn’t have any high school crowd. Ronni’s a loner. Not like Elsie. Elsie was a cheerleader her junior year. She—”
    â€œRonni sang with the choir,” Helen said defensively. “That was her crowd, the choir kids.”
    â€œAnd look what they dragged into the choir,” her husband said angrily. “That’s why she never met any decent boys.”
    â€œShe met Rick.”
    â€œWho’s Rick?” I said.
    â€œHer goddam husband,” Jack said in a disgusted voice. “Hel, you would have to go and mention the bastard. Was her husband, the asshole.”
    I’d run a document search on Veronica James, first thing. No record of a marriage, or a divorce. Dana Endicott hadn’t mentioned a marriage. Jack James hit the remote and the television boomed full volume. I tried to ask another question. A grinning model piloted a silver SUV about a hundred miles an hour down a rain-slicked road to a deafening rock-and-roll beat. James glared at me, shouted good-bye, turned his full attention to the set.
    As she ushered me into the hall, Helen James glanced at me shamefacedly. “Ronni and Rick, they were never really married. He knows. Not by the church and not by the law, but she lived with him and all, so he calls Rick her ex-husband.”
    Standing in the tiny foyer, I convinced her to part with Rick’s last name, Garrison, and to give me an address, even though she thought it was no longer a current one.
    â€œI don’t think she’d go to him. Honestly.”
    â€œWhere would she go, if she were in trouble?”
    Mrs. James’ face closed. “We don’t believe in abortion.”
    I hadn’t even been thinking of that kind of trouble. “Is she close to any of her sisters?”
    â€œThere’s such an age difference between Ronni and Jayme.” She bit her lip and her fingers tightened on the door handle. “And Jackie, well, she’s still in school….”
    I insisted on their phone numbers, too.
    â€œHelen!” Jack had quite a voice when he let it fly. It boomed over the TV blare and made the woman glance guiltily over her shoulder.
    â€œHave Ronni call me,” she whispered, “soon as you find her. I’m worried to death. We watch TV all the time. You’d think he’d know what it’s like out there.”
    TV ain’t life, lady, I felt like saying. Turn off the fucking machine, breathe the real air. Instead I thanked her. Then I sat in my car and phoned each of the sisters, one after the other. Neither Jackie nor Jayme had seen Veronica, neither knew Peter. I saved Elsie—Mom and Daddy’s darling—for last.
    â€œCertainly not,” she said firmly when I asked whether Veejay was staying with her. Her voice, low and gentle, annoyed me, since I’d imagined it nasal and hard.
    â€œDo you have Peter’s phone number?”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œDo you know a friend of Veronica’s named Peter?”
    â€œNo comment.”
    â€œListen, lady, I’m not from the National Enquirer . I’m trying to help your sister. I didn’t tell your parents, but Veronica took off in a car she doesn’t own.”
    â€œShe stole a car? Oh, my lord.”
    â€œNo one wants to press charges. Not if I find her soon.”
    â€œMaybe Ronni doesn’t want to be found, you ever think of that? Oh, just leave me alone. Leave my folks alone, too. You people never quit, do you?” She hung up with a righteous bang, leaving me wondering what “people” she was talking about.
    Had Dana Endicott phoned? Or was someone else asking questions about Veronica?

Chapter 11
    â€œHey, I’m sorry, kid. Ya must have had a hell of a long day.” Eddie stuck out his hand