“You Starrs think you’re better than the rest of us. You . . .” He couldn’t seem to find his voice for a moment, then flashed, “You tell your little friend to stay out of my way. She’s a lying bitch who probably spread her legs for that guy and now wants to cry rape!”
Kat replaced her receiver carefully, feeling how fast her pulse was racing. Patrick had told her he’d met with Eames, and that the man hadn’t been happy about the questions he’d posed. But Jeez Louise.
Her father had also told her that he’d had some questions for Rafe Dillinger, and the man had gotten in his face. “First Ricki, now you. I been checking things out. Found out when that girl disappeared. I was putting in a shift at Big Bart’s at that time. Everybody says she was doing the Croft kid. You should be looking at him, not me.”
Patrick had added that Rafe was fairly colorful about what he could do to himself, then added somewhat ruefully, “Checked his alibi, and it holds up. You know who vouched for him? Darla Kingsley . . . can’t think of her married name. By all accounts, she doesn’t like him much anymore. Rafe never was much of a father, not that she apparently cares anymore. Anyway, she works at Big Bart’s part-time, and Rafe was there the day Addie disappeared for all the hours that matter.”
An alibi for Rafe Dillinger. Maybe it could be broken, but Kat also knew that Darla had no love for Rafe, so she was inclined to believe it.
At least Dad knows Blair wasn’t the one who got Darla pregnant.
Small comfort, in the scheme of things.
Kat picked up the phone to call Ruth. Might as well warn her about what Eames was saying before she was blindsided. She didn’t get through, though, so she left a message on voice mail for Ruth to call her, and then as she headed out of the station, her cell phone rang and she fished it from her purse and saw it was Ruth. “Good thing you didn’t call me back at the station, as I’m just heading out,” Kat said as a hello.
“Call you back? Was I supposed to? No, I’m calling for a different reason.” There was suppressed excitement in Ruth’s voice.
“What?”
“You know I have a number of callins on my hotline who keep checking back with me. One of them, ‘Lily,’ is ready to talk to the police. Kat, she’s alluded to the fact that her rapist is from around Prairie Creek, and I’ve tried to get her to go to the authorities for a while, but she couldn’t make herself. But she saw my story, and now she’s ready to talk!”
“That’s great, Ruth.”
“I told her you were with me when I was attacked, and she only wants to talk to you,” she rushed on. “But she lives out of town, and she won’t come back to Prairie Creek. Can you get away for a day, drive maybe to Jackson to meet her?”
Jackson was quite a ways. Kat had already missed a day and a half of work, and though this could be construed as related to their investigation, she didn’t want to have to ask for time off. “Any chance she could come closer? Say Saturday? Maybe Wheeler City?” The town was about an hour away. “I’m off that day.”
“I’ll ask her,” Ruth said. “And see what her schedule is.”
“Good.”
“You were trying to call me, you said?”
“My dad interviewed Hank Eames as a potential suspect, and Hank, uh, thought you’d given him up.” Kat then related what Hank Eames had said about Ruth. She absorbed the message in silence, then thanked Kat for telling her.
“I wouldn’t give him up. You know that.”
“I know it. And my dad knows it, but Hank doesn’t.”
“He wasn’t on my list because I couldn’t talk about him. Was he on Patrick’s?”
Time to come clean. “Um . . . more like my father has been seeing a little of Goldie Horndahl, whose furniture store is right across the street from your office. If you know Goldie, she’s not known for holding back.”
“I know Goldie,” Ruth said dryly.
“Dad might’ve initiated that friendship to see who was going in and out of your building.”
“Might’ve?” Ruth asked, though there was a trace of humor in her voice that encouraged Kat.
“Oh, he’ll pay the price for it, believe me. Goldie’s not the kind of woman you have a couple of dates with and then let go.”
“I’ll tell your brother,” Ruth said, a smile forming in her voice. “Ethan and I can handle Hank. I’m relieved it’s out there, to tell the truth, and I’m just so happy Lily’s finally coming forward.”
They ended the call on good terms, and Kat headed to her Jeep feeling better than she had all day. She parked in front of her apartment—an older home that had been converted to a four-plex, with two units on the ground floor and two on the upper floor. Kat was on the ground floor in the back, and she walked down a narrow walkway to the rear entrance and let herself inside.
She immediately made herself a peanut butter sandwich. She seemed to have developed a craving for peanut butter over the past few days, and she was trying to balance it with a few salads, with limited success. She was mulling over calling her gynecologist. She needed an initial appointment, but like Goldie spying Hank Eames entering Ruth’s building, someone would surely see her if she stopped in at Dr. Cady’s office. She could claim it was for an annual appointment, but with the Byrds already alerted and Blair aware she was pregnant . . .
“Oh, hell,” she muttered, placing the call. She got Dr. Cady’s receptionist, asked if she could have an appointment ASAP, and was informed that Dr. Cady was on vacation and would be back the week after next. Kat scheduled the first time available and hung up in relief. One more hurdle to put off a while longer.
But how long will Blair wait?
She gritted her teeth and shook her head. No use borrowing trouble. He wasn’t completely sure the baby was his, so maybe he would leave things alone for a while. She knew better than to believe he’d let it go completely.
All I need is a little time to figure things out. After Addie’s found, I can think about myself. And Addie has to be found soon. She can’t suffer the same fate as Courtney Pearson.
Her thoughts spurred her to action. She’d called the Masseys while still at work and spoken to Joleen, who’d said her husband wasn’t around, but that she would give him the message. So far he hadn’t returned her call.
But there was still Cal Haney. She’d told Ricki she was going to interview him, and Cal lived closer in than the Masseys.
No time like the present . . .
She headed back to her Jeep and drove through the early-evening shadows toward Cal Haney’s place. Ricki and Sam were dealing with Skip Chandler, who, much like Hank Eames, had been affronted and furious that anyone would dare impugn his character when Ricki had convinced him to come to the station.
Kat’s cell rang just as she reached Cal Haney’s place. Seeing it was Ruth, she took the call and learned that their meeting was a go for Saturday.
“She’s really nervous,” Ruth added. “This is hard for her, and I can definitely relate.”
“Glad she’s going through with it. When was she kidnapped?” Kat asked, eyeing the leaf-choked leaves of the Haneys’ gutters.