Lost Little Girl by Gregory Stout

Author:Gregory Stout [Gregory Stout]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Level Best Books
Published: 2021-10-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Maggie Totten lived in a townhouse complex in the Belle Meade area of the city, a community I wouldn’t have thought she’d be able to afford on a teacher’s salary. Unless, of course, she’d used her settlement from the school district—or perhaps the proceeds from her divorce. I wondered, but decided it might be better not to ask how she had managed it. It wasn’t any of my business, and either answer would only have served to dredge up old, painful memories.

She must have been watching out the window when I drove up, because she was out the door and down her front steps before I was halfway out of the car. She looked terrific in a knee-length burgundy dress that revealed enough cleavage to create a traffic jam, black three-inch sling-back heels, and black stockings. The look was finished with a gray knit blazer. I wore a jacket and slacks, no tie. She was dressed for the prom. I should have rented a tux.

Since I wasn’t sure what type of cuisine she favored, I picked a Cajun-themed spot that offered a fairly broad menu. It was a block or two off the beaten path and not usually frequented by celebrities, so I knew we would not be competing for a table with hordes of tourists hoping to get an autograph, or take a selfie with some country music bigfoot.

After we were seated with menus in hand, a waiter came and took our drink order. Maggie asked for an appletini, whatever that is. I ordered a Stella. While we waited, I filled her in on my conversations with Carl Sutton, Mickey Reddick, and Jack Olin. I left out any description of Mickey’s condition, as well as my visit from Roberta Jeffries and my subsequent telephone conversation with Wanda Beaudry. At this early stage of our relationship, I had no wish to start things off talking about battered women. I also didn’t want to have to explain my association with Wanda, nor how it was likely to involve me in very short order in a highly extralegal activity that was almost certain to leave Roberta Jeffries’s husband with a lasting disability.

Maggie took a sip of her martini. The look on her face said it met expectations. “I’m interested in this Bobby Fury character. Do you really think he has Gabrielle with him?”

“Where else could she be,” I said. “I think at a minimum, he has something to do with why she’s gone. Maybe he listened to her story about how terrible things are at home and thought he could help her. Maybe he didn’t do anything more than drive her to a runaway shelter and hasn’t seen her since. It could be as innocent as that, but even so, he’s the only real lead we have.”

“But if you believe what his girlfriend said…”

“Ex-girlfriend,” I corrected her.

“Ex-girlfriend, then. If you believe what she said, Bobby is not a nice guy. He takes advantage of women. And it sounds as if he’s more than a little possessive.

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