A Wolf in the Woods by Nancy Allen

Author:Nancy Allen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-02-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

Elsie followed the Denny’s waitress down an aisle and scooted into a booth across from her.

“This is my section,” the waitress said, looking around with a frown. “They’ll be wondering why I’m not taking care of them.”

Elsie rummaged in her purse and pulled out the notepad she’d used to jot notes at the PD. Under the handwritten scrawl that read “Marvel Marketing,” she circled “Denny’s” and “Th afternoon.”

“I’m sorry to inconvenience you. This is really important.” Glancing at the nametag on the woman’s chest, she added: “Brigitte.”

Brigitte grabbed a stray napkin and began to scrub the table with it. “The busboy is just plain lazy,” she muttered. She wadded the napkin into a ball and stuffed it into the pocket of her black nylon apron. “You need me to get you something? Coffee?”

Elsie would have killed for a cup of coffee; but asking the woman to wait on her felt wrong. She needed to treat her as a witness rather than a server.

“No, ma’am. Thank you. Can you give me your full name, Brigitte?”

“It’s Clifton. Brigitte Diane Clifton.”

Elsie looked up from her pad. The left eye was moving again; so Elsie fixed her focus on Brigitte’s right eye.

“And you’re from Barton?”

“All my life. Do you not know me? Because I sure recognize you.”

Elsie faltered, struggling to recall the woman. Brigitte was too old to claim a high school kinship; and she didn’t recognize her as a courthouse regular. From her grim vibe, it was unlikely that they’d shared a beer and a laugh at the Baldknobbers Bar.

Elsie hazarded a guess. “I bet it was here. At Denny’s?”

Bingo. Brigitte nodded, and her eye steadied momentarily. “I don’t see you so much these days. A while back, I used to work the graveyard shift. You’d come in after you were drinking. Order breakfast.”

The blush started to crawl up Elsie’s neck. She huffed a regretful laugh. “Back in my old college days, I bet. My wayward youth.”

“Not so long ago as that. You’d come in with that policeman.”

Elsie drew up in her seat, with an air of injury. “Brigitte, Detective Ashlock can’t be accused of stumbling into Denny’s under the influence.”

“Not him. The other one. The good-looking cop.” Her face was stern. “And he wasn’t the one doing the stumbling.”

Oh Lord. Elsie’s history was biting her in the ass again: Noah Strong, her cop boyfriend from the bad old days. The woman’s memory was probably accurate.

Which was embarrassing for Elsie, but good for the interview. She was glad to know the woman had strong powers of recollection.

“Let’s talk about last Thursday. You waited on the two girls you described?”

“I didn’t just wait on them. I saw them in the restroom first.”

At the mention of the restroom, Brigitte smoothed her hair with her hands and tightened the elastic band that held it away from her face.

“The restroom? Here at Denny’s?”

“Yeah. They were painting their faces like a couple of Jezebels. Couldn’t have been old enough to be in high school yet.”

Elsie shook her head, trying to envision Taylor Johnson wearing makeup.

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