Page 144 of Blue Moon

“Michelle says you have Stockholm syndrome.”

Stockholm syndrome. Right. That’s what it was, not Copenhagen syndrome.

“I know how to handle creeps, that’s all. Flatter them a bit and play to their egos, but keep them at arm’s length. I thought you had Stockholm syndrome.”

Kacie shook her head vigorously. “I also know how to handle creeps. The bar I work at, it doesn’t have the best clientele.” She ticked off the points on her fingers. “Don’t antagonise them, don’t outright disagree with them, smile plenty.”

“At least we know Michelle doesn’t have Stockholm syndrome.”

This time, both of us laughed, and it felt good. These were strange times, but maybe I’d found another friend.

40

RYDER

“No, not Janice. Candice. Candice Hebert.”

Lorelle Harman peered at Ryder over half-moon glasses, and her heavily lined face creased even more.

“Candice? You mean Candy?”

He pointed at the ramshackle and now-abandoned three-level home across the street. “She lived right there in the basement apartment.”

“She died. Been gone for years now. And right after she went, Molly Crocker passed too, and Molly’s daughter just let the house go to ruin. Moved to the city, did Deanna, and she only came back one day for the funeral.”

They’d arrived in Alexandria late last night, too late to start banging on people’s doors if they wanted them to cooperate rather than call the cops. So they’d grabbed a few hours’ sleep and started early, dividing the list among the three of them. Yes, the three of them. When the plane was somewhere over Nebraska, Jezebel had called with a new lead—a name for Hebert’s ex. The only problem? She’d left Vegas for Montana, and she wasn’t answering the phone.

Emmy had grumbled like hell, but she’d dropped Ryder, Dan, and Knox in Minnesota and headed for Big Sky Country with Slater.

Which left Ryder with a third of the names on the list to speak with, a task that might take a while if they all rambled for as long as Lorelle Harman did. She was a late riser too. He’d knocked on the door at ten past seven and again at half past eight, but it wasn’t until nearly ten o’clock that he heard the telltale shuffle-shuffle-clomp of her approaching with her walker.

In the interim, he’d talked with nineteen of Candice Hebert’s former neighbours—most of them women, since Dan was taking the men—and been offered three phone numbers but little useful information. People remembered seeing Candice around, but nobody really spoke to her. Knox wasn’t having much more luck with her former colleagues at the grocery store. Candice had kept herself to herself, although they all said how proud she was of her son being in the Army. Nobody mentioned his discharge. Had Hebert even told his mother he no longer served?

“I know Ms. Hebert died, but it’s actually her son I’m looking for.” Dan had briefed them on the plane. Don’t be afraid to lie, she said. Time was of the essence. Get the information by whatever means necessary. “We served together at Fort Irwin, but we lost touch in recent years. Anyhow…” Ryder crossed his fingers. “I’m getting married, and it would mean the world if I could invite him to the wedding.” It was only half a lie. Ryder absolutely intended to marry Luna someday. “I flew in to meet a client in Minneapolis, and that was when I realised how close I was to his hometown. I just wondered if anyone might have a current address for him?”

“Married? Well, congratulations to you and the lucky lady.”

“Thanks, she’s one in a million.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know where Anton is, though. The last time I saw him was at his momma’s funeral, and he didn’t stay in town much longer than Deanna Crocker. Just packed up Candy’s belongings and sent everything to Goodwill. Almost everything. He kept the photos and her jewellery and let me take some little mementos. He was always a kind boy, but his momma…she was troubled.”

“Troubled?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Anton was never very talkative when it came to the past, or when it came to his family.”

“I guess I can understand that. Candy didn’t make his life easy.”

“Oh?”

“She hopped from one no-good boyfriend to another. I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but she would’ve been better off on her own.”

“Bad judgment?”

“Yes, but that was most likely because of all the drinking.”

Candice was an alcoholic? “Anton never mentioned that.”

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