Page 22 of Long Gone

Detective Jones had been secretive about the list of investors, but at the back of the thick packet of bank statements, I found copies of the five checks deposited into his account. All written from the investors’ personal bank accounts.

Brett Colter

Tim Heaton

Pete Mooney

Skip Martin

Bill O’Murphy

The only name I recognized was Colter’s, but a quick internet search showed me that three of the five investors were dead. Bill O’Murphy had died of colon cancer the year before at the ripe old age of eighty-seven. Tim Heaton had been in a car accident several months after Hugo disappeared, and Pete Mooney had been found beaten in a Little Rock alley less than a year later. The news reports said Mooney been mugged, but it still seemed suspicious. I couldn’t find much more about him via an internet search other than he’d been forty-three years old and was from Pine Bluff. What had he been doing in Little Rock? I planned to dig into it more.

Skip Martin, the second investor who was still alive, owned a Ford dealership on the south side of Wolford. Based on the photos I found in my search, he appeared to be in his fifties and had a couple of grandkids. He also supported several ball teams and gave money to the Wolford High School.

I became so absorbed in my work that I hadn’t realized it was getting darker. I glanced at the time on the bottom screen of my laptop with a start. It was nearly seven, and I was supposed to meet Louise and Nate in a few minutes. I shot them a quick text that I was running late, then quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater. Snagging a jacket and my purse, I rushed out the door and down the steps leading to the backyard.

As I got to the car, I realized my mother’s house was dark. She always had the lights on by dusk, especially the exterior ones.

I paused next to my car, wondering if I should go inside and check on her, but I suspected that was exactly what she wanted. This was another act of manipulation. She’d give me a face-to-face lecture about how I was failing in my duties as her daughter, and I didn’t have the time or patience. Instead, I sent her a text apologizing for canceling lunch, then tucked my phone in my pocket and started the twenty-minute drive.

For any other bar, a full parking lot on a Tuesday night would be an oddity, but not for Scooter’s Tavern. It was always busy. Then again, it was the most laid-back place to hang out in Lone County, not that there was much competition unless you included Our Lady of the Lake’s Bingo night.

When I walked in, I saw Louise and Nate in a booth in the back. Louise lifted a hand to get my attention. I waved back, then made a stop at the bar to order a beer, my mouth watering at the thought of a Jack and Coke. I’d had the urge to make one all afternoon, but I’d held off, telling myself that I would be able to have a beer tonight. But now that I was here at the counter, all of the bottles of hard liquor in front of me, a beer didn’t seem like enough.

Too bad it had to be.

Malcolm was at the other end of the bar and after our encounter that afternoon, I had no desire to run up to him and order a drink. If he noticed me walk in, he didn’t let on. I walked up to the counter where Misti, a bartender I’d met the first time I’d come in, was standing. She greeted me with a warm smile. “Hey, Harper. How’s it hangin’?”

I laughed. “It’s not too bad, actually. How are things with you?”

Misti and I hadn’t been introduced under great circumstances—Malcolm had made me hand over my keys and sit at the bar with a glass of water and a basket of nachos on the house until she deemed me fit to drive. I hadn’t been drunk, but I didn’t hold the messy situation against her. It wasn’t her fault her boss was an asshole, and she’d been pretty cool about the whole thing. But now I was more careful about what I ordered and how quickly I ordered my next drink. I knew she and Malcolm were watching.

“Not too shabby,” she said, shaking her head as she reached for a beer mug. Her long dark hair shook behind her. It was layered and curled, different than her usual ponytail look. “You want your usual?”

“Yep. You’re definitely not lookin’ shabby,” I said with a grin. “You got your hair done.”

“My cousin is in beauty school and cut and colored it for free. You like?”

“Love!” I said. “I could use a trim myself.”

Her brow rose and she looked down at me. “You could use more than a trim.”

“Ouch,” I said with a laugh.

“You know what I mean.”

I did, but I’d never been one to color my hair. I’d always pulled it back when I was working, and since I was almost always working, I’d seen no need to do anything with it. Kara, my old roommate back in Little Rock, had always said a haircut and color made her feel like a new woman. Maybe they both had a point; I could use a new hairstyle to go with my new life.

“I can give you my cousin’s name,” Misti said. “They do it at the beauty school, and it’s pretty cheap.”

“My mother always says cheap’s not better.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I was horrified. Mostly because I couldn’t believe I was quoting my mother.

Misti laughed. “It worked out pretty well for me.”

“I can’t argue with that. And my mother is a snob, so I’m not sure why that tumbled out. Sorry.”

She set my glass of beer on the counter. “Hey, no offense taken. My cousin’s name is Emily, and she’s at the beauty school in Wolford on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

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