Abby had to sit down. Aldous. It seemed impossible.
Her hands were trembling when she pulled out her cell phone to call Malachi. He answered immediately.
“Hey, wench,” he said. “Is the show over?”
“It is. Where are you? What’s going on? The media are announcing that the man suspected to be the killer is in custody.”
“The media have it already?”
“They do,” she said. “And I assume they’re referring to Aldous.”
“I imagine. He’s the only suspect. He’s not really being held. So far, he’s actually there voluntarily. I suggested to him that he didn’t want to leave yet.”
“You don’t really think it’s Aldous, do you?”
“I think it’s important that people—especially the real killer—believe the police are convinced the killer’s in custody.”
“But if the killer isn’t in custody...or if he is, for that matter, Bianca is still out there somewhere.”
“I’m at the hospital. I’m on my way back, though. I may walk around for a while. I’m trying to clear my head. Are you all right?”
“Of course. I’m fine. I’m in the apartment. I just got out of pirate-wench mode.”
“Who’s there, at the Dragonslayer?”
“When I came up? Roger and Paul. They were still pirates, talking to diners. Bootsie and Dirk were at the bar, although Dirk will have to leave soon. Macy and Grant Green are both here.”
“Just go down and be friendly, okay? They should start questioning the fact that Aldous isn’t there. Isn’t there a TV behind the bar?”
“Yes, for games and events. It wasn’t on.”
“Make sure it’s on. See what happens when your patrons watch the news about the suspect who’s being held. I’ll be there soon.”
Abby ended the call. She stepped out of the apartment and carefully locked the door. Straightening her shoulders, she hurried down to the bar.
Macy was at the host station, Sullivan behind the bar.
Roger was seated at a table with a family, entertaining their three children. Paul was in the dining room as well, speaking with a young couple.
Neither Bootsie nor Dirk was at the bar.
“Where are our favorite barflies?” she asked Sullivan.
“Who knows?” Sullivan shrugged. “I guess Dirk went back for the afternoon sailing of the Black Swan. Bootsie went with him. Maybe he’s sailing with Dirk today. Aldous hasn’t shown up, so he might have wanted to hang with a friend.”
“Possibly.” Abby nodded. “Can you turn on the TV, Sullivan?”
“Sure. Anything special?” he asked.
“Whatever. How about news?”
Sullivan picked up the remote and switched on the flat-screen television that hung over the low etched mirror behind the call-brand whiskeys.
Abby had no idea how much good it was going to do, the two barflies who were supposed to see the news weren’t there.
But the same newscaster came on, reporting that a suspect was being held in what was now called the River Rat case. She didn’t have anything new to add, but she rephrased things so that it almost sounded as if she were telling her audience more.
Looking up at the screen, she could sense people walking up and crowding behind her. Roger and Paul were suddenly beside her; so was Macy. Abby hadn’t even known Grant was still there, but he was with the group staring up at the screen.
“They caught him?” Macy breathed.
“But they’re not revealing a name,” Sullivan said.
“What about Bianca?” Roger asked. “They’re not saying anything about Bianca!”
“They don’t seem to really know anything,” Grant commented. “They know the cops are holding someone and that’s it.”
“No news about Bianca is good news, Roger,” Macy said gently.
But Roger shook his head as he stared glumly up at the screen.
“No news... But they have to find her!”
“If they have a suspect, they can make him tell where he’s keeping her,” Sullivan said. He looked at Abby. “Right? Hey, wait—Abby, you must know who it is.”
She wasn’t comfortable lying but she had no intention of telling the truth.
“I’ve been here playing wench. All I can do is connect with the feds and see what they know.”
“Well, call Malachi!” Macy insisted.
“I just talked to him. He wasn’t at the station,” Abby said. “He isn’t involved with what’s going on there.”
“But he’s an FBI agent.”
“Consultant,” Abby corrected.
“Okay, then you’re an FBI agent!” Grant said.
“I just passed the academy. I don’t have an official assignment,” Abby said.
Grant shook his head. “Then you’re running around helping those guys for free?” Grant asked. “Gus should’ve taught you to be a better businesswoman.”