Page 56 of Long Gone

“Questions but no answers,” she said in an irritated tone.

“That’s the way investigations work,” I said, not letting her sniping get to me. “How tall was Hugo?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“It’s a straightforward one. How tall was he?”

“About five-ten, although I’m pretty sure he shrank, so probably closer to five-nine.”

“Did he have long legs?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Clarice…”

“Fine. They weren’t exceptionally long.”

“Do you know how far back he kept the driver’s seat in his car?”

She paused. “You found something.”

“Maybe, but don’t get your hopes up. How far back did he keep his seat? All the way back? In the middle?”

“I guess in the middle.”

“Great. Now one more thing. How clean did he keep his car?”

I expected her to fight me on that too, but she said, “It was always full of papers and stuff.”

“So messy?”

“Yeah. It would only be clean if Anton cleaned it out.”

“Did you see his car after they found it?”

“No, they impounded it and I never got it back.”

“The report and the photos show that it’s perfectly clean. No trash whatsoever.”

“Someone cleaned it out,” she said breathlessly.

“Do you think it could have been Anton?”

“I don’t know. You should ask him. But text him. He can’t always talk on the phone, but he can answer a text.”

Yesterday she’d been reluctant to let me talk to Anton, but now she was eager for me to get confirmation from him. Maybe that meant she trusted me now. “Thanks. I plan to do that as soon as we end this call.”

“Harper,” she called out as I was about to hang up.

“Yes?”

“Sorry I’ve been such a bitch. I just…”

“It’s okay, Clarice. I understand.”

I hung up and sent Anton several texts.

Anton, this is Harper Adams.

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