Her Last Day (Jessie Cole #1)

Ben looked at Jessie. “Do you want to take a look around while I finish this?”

He wanted to get rid of her. Too bad. She was staying. “No. I’d like to hear what she has to say.”

“All right then,” he said, turning back to face Leanne. He propped his elbows on the table in front of him, fingers entwined. “So what was Sophie doing on the night you saw her last?”

“She was dancing with Frank.”

“Frank?” he asked.

The name meant nothing to Jessie.

Leanne nodded. “Frank was my fiancé at that time.”

“I take it you didn’t appreciate another woman dancing with your fiancé.”

“That’s right,” she said. “I weaved my way through the crowded dance floor, pried her hands off Frank, and told her to back the fuck off.”

Ben kept his gaze on Leanne. “And what happened after that?”

Leanne shrugged. “She found someone else to dance with.”

“Who?”

“A scraggly-looking guy with bad teeth and wearing gaudy jewelry.”

Ben scribbled on his notepad. “A gold chain?”

“No,” Leanne said. “Rings. One on each of his middle fingers. One of them reminded me of the ring Johnny Depp wore when he played the pirate.”

“Jack Sparrow in the Pirates of the Caribbean?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She drank some water. “When we get busy around here, I usually end up helping the bartender. The guy was sitting at the bar that night, twirling his rings. The skull ring on one hand and a gold band with a purple stone on the other.”

Jessie felt Ben stiffen next to her.

Eyes squeezed shut, he pressed his fingers to his temples.

“What’s wrong with him?” Leanne asked.

“I don’t know.” Jessie touched his shoulder. “Ben. Are you all right?”

He nodded. “Migraine.” He slid out of the booth. “I’ll be right back.”

They watched him go.

“He’s a big man—isn’t he?” Leanne asked. “What’s with the limp and all the scars?”

Jessie hadn’t noticed a limp, but Leanne was right. He definitely had an uneven gait. “He was in a car accident.”

Leanne nodded as she glanced at her phone. “I’m on duty in ten minutes.”

Jessie needed to keep her talking. If Leanne was telling the truth, then this could be her best chance of finally getting information about Sophie’s last day. “How long would you guess Sophie danced with the man wearing the skull ring?”

“Not long. If you ask me, he wasn’t her type. It took her less than a minute to find someone better-looking—a tall, decent-looking guy with broad shoulders. About the same height as your partner, Ben.”

Jessie didn’t bother correcting her. “And then what? Did they dance?”

“This is where things get a little hazy,” Leanne explained. “I don’t think he was interested in dancing. Instead they sat at the bar talking. I remember thinking she looked frustrated with him. It must have been an hour later when I saw Sophie leave. I know this because I wanted to make sure Frank didn’t follow her. He didn’t, but the guy wearing the skull ring did.”

“He followed Sophie out the front door?”

Leanne nodded. “Next thing you know, I see the tall man leave, too. That’s when I figured there was going to be trouble.”

“Why?”

“Two men who’ve been drinking whiskey and a pretty lady equals trouble. Anyway, I ran to the kitchen”—she pointed that way—“slipped out the back door, and crept around the side of the building so I could see what was going on.”

Leanne had Jessie’s full attention. Her stomach tightened. “And what did you see?”

Ben returned before Leanne could answer.

After Jessie filled him in, telling him everything Leanne had told her, Leanne stood, and they followed her through the kitchen and out the back door. Everything looked the same as the last time Jessie had visited—an unpaved area with a dumpster and stacks of boxes and crates.

Gravel crunched beneath their feet as they walked to the side of the building. Leanne stopped and then pointed toward the parking lot. “See the truck over there? The charcoal truck next to the blue Honda? That’s about how far away Sophie and the two men were by the time I got out here. It looked to me as if the guy wearing the rings was making a move on Sophie.”

Jessie frowned. “Did he touch her?”

“He grabbed her from behind, his arms circling her waist.” Leanne made the motions, her arms wrapping around air. “That’s when the tall guy pulled him off her and punched him in the face. Skull Ring Man fell to the ground, and I hoped that would be the end of it. But it wasn’t.”

Jessie and Ben didn’t say a word. They just listened.

“Sophie smashed the bottle of beer she’d been holding against one of those concrete parking blocks over there. The music was loud that night, but not loud enough to cover the sound of shattering glass. Next thing I knew, she was on top of Skull Ring Man.”

Leanne’s voice hitched, and she was trembling, which made it difficult not to believe her.

Ben rested a hand on Leanne’s shoulder and told her it was okay.

“I’m sorry,” Leanne said, “but the sound he made when she jammed that broken bottle into his chest, or maybe his neck—I’m not sure—was a sound I will never forget for as long as I live.”

Jessie thought she might be sick. “Are you suggesting that Sophie might have seriously hurt the guy?”

Ben lifted a hand to stop Jessie from saying anything else. “So what did you do next?” he asked Leanne.

“I ran back through the kitchen to get help, but the cook had cut off half his finger.” She shook her head. “I’m not shitting you. There was nothing but chaos that night. But I had to do something, so I ran around the place like a fucking idiot until I found Frank.” She anchored her hair behind her ears. “Guess where I found him?”

Ben shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Where?”

“In the boss’s office, happy as a clam, getting blown by the new girl.”

Jessie felt heat rise through her body. Every time she’d talked to the woman in the past, Leanne had either said she’d never seen Sophie in her life, she didn’t remember the night in question, or she’d left early. Now suddenly she could clearly recount everything that happened in detail.

Jessie knew Sophie had been a partier and a bit of a wild thing, but she couldn’t imagine her sister ever hurting anyone. That was what she’d been telling people all her life. But if Sophie had been threatened in some way, then of course she would defend herself. Besides, why would Leanne lie, especially after all this time?

“Everything went to shit after that,” Leanne said, her gaze on Ben. “By the time I got my wits back and remembered why I’d been searching for Frank in the first place, I grabbed a flashlight and headed back outside. And guess what?”

“What did you see?” Ben asked.

Leanne shook her head in wonder. “There was nothing there. I didn’t sleep well that night. The next day, even though I was off work, I stopped by to take a look at the place where I’d seen it all go down. I found a few pieces of broken glass, but it could have been from another time—who knows?”

“No blood?” Ben asked.

Leanne shook her head. “Nothing.”

“And you never thought to call the police?” Jessie asked.

“Why would I? There was nothing there. No proof at all of what I’d seen.”

“At the very least,” Jessie said, “you could have told me what you saw. I talked to you three times.”

“Frank didn’t want me to say anything to anyone,” she shot back. “He’d been in and out of jail and didn’t want the cops, let alone the FBI, hanging around asking questions.”

Jessie rubbed her forehead. “The last time we spoke, you told me you left early that night. Why should we believe you now?”

Leanne looked at Ben. “You promised nobody would judge me or point fingers.” She looked around. “I need to get to work. I think we’re done here.”

“You’ve been a big help,” Ben assured her, “but I have one more question before we go.”

“What is it?”

“Did you happen to see what kind of car Sophie or either of the men were driving that night? Color, model, anything at all?”

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