Henry started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. “Buddy? He’s done a lot for Archie. Protected him over the past couple of years.”
Susan rolled down her window. The air was warm and dry. It was going to be a hot day. “Yeah, he’s done a great job at protecting Archie,” she said. Then realizing the inappropriateness of her sarcasm, added, “Sorry.”
CHAPTER
50
Henry took a moment to gather himself outside Debbie’s door at the Arlington. His blood was still pumping from having to push through a dozen reporters to get through the club’s front door. Their glee at the story’s magnitude was palpable, the bloodsucking assholes. He had dropped Susan off at her car, just in time to get a phone call from Animal Control. Bill the poodle had taken a shit, and in it they had found a girl’s class ring. Benson High class of 1997. He’d made a call and confirmed Susan’s suspicions: Annabelle Nixon had graduated from Benson that year. He ran a hand over the stubble on the top of his head, and then let it settle for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose. His eyes burned from lack of sleep. He needed more coffee. His stomach churned and his mouth was sour. It was shaping up to be one of the hottest days of the year. Ten A.M., and his T-shirt was already stained with sweat.
If he found Archie in time, he was going to slug him.
“Fuck,” he said under his breath. Then he lowered his hand, opened and squeezed his eyes shut a few times, and tried to look awake and optimistic.
Henry knocked twice with the back of his hand. “It’s me,” he said. A patrol cop opened the door. Henry didn’t see Bennett.
Buddy was sitting on the couch, where Henry had left him. An aide sat next to him and they were staring at a laptop on the coffee table. Buddy couldn’t have gotten much sleep, but he somehow looked completely rested.
Buddy pointed to the two bedrooms. “They’re finally all asleep,” he said.
“Thanks for staying with them,” Henry said, closing the door behind him.
“Any news?” Buddy asked.
Henry looked at the patrol cop and at the aide. “Can we talk alone for a minute?” he asked Buddy.
Buddy frowned. “I’m just preparing a statement for the press. Brian Williams is coming.”
“It will just take a minute,” Henry said.
Henry thought he saw a flicker of irritation in Buddy’s eyes, but then it was gone and Buddy shrugged and said, “Sure, pal.” He smiled at his aide. “Give us a minute, huh?”
The aide stood and walked to the door with the patrol cop. “We’ll just be in the hall, sir,” the aide said.
“Thanks, Jack,” Buddy said. “Love the press release. Really.”
Jack almost blushed.
When they were gone, Henry walked to the window and looked out at the park. The AC was on, but he could feel the heat already pressing against the glass. He could see several news vans parked in a loading zone out front. He made a mental note to call and report them.
“You used to date Beverly Overlook,” Henry said, glancing back at Buddy.
Buddy interlaced his fingers behind his head and leaned back on the couch. “God,” he said. “Years ago.”
“Did you tell her son not to talk to Susan Ward about the Molly Palmer thing?” Henry asked.
“I did. I didn’t want them involved in a very messy story.”
Henry had never been close to Buddy. Archie had known him better. But they had worked with him, of course, during those early years when Buddy had run the task force. And Buddy had always liked to talk about himself. “You used to work for Castle, didn’t you?” Henry said. “Security?”
Buddy nodded. “When I was a cop, yeah. Before the task force. You’re going back a long time, pal.”
“You know those two kids who went missing? Stuart and Annabelle?”
Buddy made a dismissive motion with his hand. “That was after my time. I knew Stuart. Vaguely. Theory was he went off the deep end, killed his girlfriend, then himself. Cops never did find the bodies. I always thought he probably took her into the woods. You know, did her, did himself. Kid was always a little stressed out.”
It might not be a bad theory, Henry thought. They parked on Twenty-third. Walked into the woods. Except that his body was the one fed into a wood chipper. So maybe she did it. Killed him, disposed of his body. Then couldn’t face what she’d done; killed herself there in the bushes. Or maybe it wasn’t even them. Maybe Stuart and Annabelle had just eloped and joined the Peace Corps. Maybe they were living in a hut in Malaysia.
“Did you know about Castle’s relationship with his kids’ babysitter?” Henry asked.