Alicia Camden. Besides, his mother and the entire Bloodwater police force—not to mention the Goodhue County Sheriff’s Department and the highway patrol—were working on Alicia’s disappearance twenty-four hours a day.
On the other hand, he thought as he watched Roni’s figure grow smaller, yesterday had been one of the most exciting days he’d had since the time his dad had tried to freshen up some stale potato chips in the microwave and the whole thing had gone up in flames and burned half the kitchen down.
Brian frowned. Maybe that wasn’t the best example. But he’d learned something about the flammability of potato chips that day. And his mom had gotten a nice new kitchen out of it.
Roni disappeared around the corner of the furniture store on Third Street.
What the heck, Brian thought as he broke into a run. What else was he going to do for the rest of the day?
“Here’s the concept,” Roni said. “People are creatures of habit. They tend to do the same things at the same time every day. See those two guys in hard hats smoking cigarettes? I bet they stand out there and smoke every day at this time. Probably their lunch hour.”
Brian got it right away. “So the people here today at one o’clock might be the same people who were here yesterday at one o’clock. Which was when Alicia got snatched.”
“Bravo, Watson.”
“Wait a sec. How come I’m Watson?”
“Because I just named you.”
“Okay, but I’m not calling you Sherlock.” He thought for a second. “Maybe Shirley. Shirley Holmes.” He started laughing. He couldn’t help it. Sometimes his own jokes just struck him as hilarious, the stupider the better.
Roni didn’t even crack a smile. “Very good, Watson.”
Brian pulled himself together. At least “Watson” was better than “Stink Bomb.” He looked at his watch. One o’clock on the nose.
“Do we question them together, or split up?” he asked.
“Why don’t you talk to that nurse sitting on the bench reading a book. I’ll deal with the hard hat guys.”
“What about the kid in the wheelchair?”
Roni took a look at the boy strapped into the motorized wheelchair parked under the emergency room canopy. “He looks sort of out of it,” she said. “I doubt we’ll get anything out of him.” She started across the parking area toward the two construction workers. Brian shrugged and went to talk to the nurse.
“Excuse me?” he said.
The nurse looked up from her book with a questioning smile. Brian opened his mouth to say more, but nothing came out. This happened to him sometimes with strangers, especially pretty female strangers.
“Are you all right?” asked the nurse.
Brian nodded.
“Are you lost?”
“No! I just wanted to, um, interrogate you.” That didn’t sound right. “I mean, I wanted to ask you some questions.”
The nurse was somehow frowning and smiling and looking beautiful all at the same time.
“About what?” she asked, setting her book on the bench.
“Did you see that girl get abducted yesterday?”
“Who are you?” asked the nurse.
“Brian Bain. I’m . . .” What would Roni say? “I’m interviewing witnesses for an important newspaper article.”
“You’re a reporter?”
“Not exactly. I’m just sort of helping out a friend.” Brian looked across the parking area toward Roni.
“I see,” said the nurse, following his glance. “Is that your girlfriend?”
“No!” Brian said. He could feel his face getting hot. “I mean, she’s a girl, and she’s my friend, but she’s not my girlfriend.”
“I see.” The nurse was grinning.
Brian, desperate to end the conversation, backed away saying, “Okay then, never mind . . .”
“I did see her get into that car,” said the nurse.
Brian stopped. “You did? I heard it was an SUV.”
“It was one of those jeepy-looking things,” said the nurse. “Like a big station wagon.”
“That sounds like it could be an SUV.”
“I don’t know much about
On the other hand, he thought as he watched Roni’s figure grow smaller, yesterday had been one of the most exciting days he’d had since the time his dad had tried to freshen up some stale potato chips in the microwave and the whole thing had gone up in flames and burned half the kitchen down.
Brian frowned. Maybe that wasn’t the best example. But he’d learned something about the flammability of potato chips that day. And his mom had gotten a nice new kitchen out of it.
Roni disappeared around the corner of the furniture store on Third Street.
What the heck, Brian thought as he broke into a run. What else was he going to do for the rest of the day?
“Here’s the concept,” Roni said. “People are creatures of habit. They tend to do the same things at the same time every day. See those two guys in hard hats smoking cigarettes? I bet they stand out there and smoke every day at this time. Probably their lunch hour.”
Brian got it right away. “So the people here today at one o’clock might be the same people who were here yesterday at one o’clock. Which was when Alicia got snatched.”
“Bravo, Watson.”
“Wait a sec. How come I’m Watson?”
“Because I just named you.”
“Okay, but I’m not calling you Sherlock.” He thought for a second. “Maybe Shirley. Shirley Holmes.” He started laughing. He couldn’t help it. Sometimes his own jokes just struck him as hilarious, the stupider the better.
Roni didn’t even crack a smile. “Very good, Watson.”
Brian pulled himself together. At least “Watson” was better than “Stink Bomb.” He looked at his watch. One o’clock on the nose.
“Do we question them together, or split up?” he asked.
“Why don’t you talk to that nurse sitting on the bench reading a book. I’ll deal with the hard hat guys.”
“What about the kid in the wheelchair?”
Roni took a look at the boy strapped into the motorized wheelchair parked under the emergency room canopy. “He looks sort of out of it,” she said. “I doubt we’ll get anything out of him.” She started across the parking area toward the two construction workers. Brian shrugged and went to talk to the nurse.
“Excuse me?” he said.
The nurse looked up from her book with a questioning smile. Brian opened his mouth to say more, but nothing came out. This happened to him sometimes with strangers, especially pretty female strangers.
“Are you all right?” asked the nurse.
Brian nodded.
“Are you lost?”
“No! I just wanted to, um, interrogate you.” That didn’t sound right. “I mean, I wanted to ask you some questions.”
The nurse was somehow frowning and smiling and looking beautiful all at the same time.
“About what?” she asked, setting her book on the bench.
“Did you see that girl get abducted yesterday?”
“Who are you?” asked the nurse.
“Brian Bain. I’m . . .” What would Roni say? “I’m interviewing witnesses for an important newspaper article.”
“You’re a reporter?”
“Not exactly. I’m just sort of helping out a friend.” Brian looked across the parking area toward Roni.
“I see,” said the nurse, following his glance. “Is that your girlfriend?”
“No!” Brian said. He could feel his face getting hot. “I mean, she’s a girl, and she’s my friend, but she’s not my girlfriend.”
“I see.” The nurse was grinning.
Brian, desperate to end the conversation, backed away saying, “Okay then, never mind . . .”
“I did see her get into that car,” said the nurse.
Brian stopped. “You did? I heard it was an SUV.”
“It was one of those jeepy-looking things,” said the nurse. “Like a big station wagon.”
“That sounds like it could be an SUV.”
“I don’t know much about
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