Allan breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, you were going over applications from potential new members who want to join our pack and…?”
“I found one from around the time Lori and I discovered the dead woman. We’ve either met and accepted or rejected everyone else who sent one. Or they rejected us. I didn’t think she could be the woman because she said she would check us out in a few weeks. But we found the dead woman only a few days after this was sent. So I didn’t make the connection, thinking this Sarah Engle was still coming to see us in a few weeks. A few weeks have passed. Allan, I think…I think she might have been part of that LARP group in southern Montana that I went to check out.”
He sure hoped this was the break in the case that they so desperately needed. “Is that where she was from?”
“On her application, she said she was. I didn’t see her with the group when I went down there, but under hobbies she said that she loves theater production and mentions LARP—not that particular group, just listed the acronym. So I’m thinking she could have been with Zeta’s group. I told Paul and Lori, but he wanted me to call you and tell you everything I knew. He wants you to speak with Zeta Johansson, the woman who runs the group. I’d go because I’ve already met her before and she seemed to like me but—”
“You’re due any day now. I’ll go.”
Rose gave him the address. “Let us know what you find, all right?”
“I will.” Then he ended the call and looked at the clock. It was three already and it would take three hours in good weather to reach Helena. He’d have to see if he could schedule a meeting with Zeta for Sunday because of the lateness of the hour, the worsening weather, and his date with Debbie.
But then the name of the place jogged a memory. The dead man in the car submerged in the lake had stolen the car in Helena, Montana. What were the odds that two people from there weren’t related somehow? Both murdered near Bigfork. Both from Helena. And murdered only a day apart. What if the murdered man had also been a member of the LARP group?
“Paul,” Allan said, giving him a call right away. “You’re not going to believe this, but…”
Chapter 10
This was it! Allan was finally taking the bull by the horns and asking her out. This would be their first real date, and Debbie couldn’t have been happier and more excited about it. She spent the day doing laundry and cleaning the duplex, just in case Allan stayed the night. Not that she thought he would. But then again, she wanted to be prepared.
During the day, she’d gone over her wardrobe a million times. Nothing suited the occasion. Too flashy, like she was ready for a New Year’s Eve party, or too dark and businesslike, as if she were a female detective on a TV series. Or too casual—soft, million times washed jeans. One dress looked too frumpy. Another like she was going to a church social. Maybe slacks. One pair was too baggy. Another too short-legged and tight. When had they shrunk?
She eyed her black jeans and a jade sweater that was so soft and cuddly. That would do. She threw them on and then considered her hair. Up and sexy, or was that too much like the way she wore it all day on the job?
Down and soft and curling about her shoulders? Despite how tipsy she had been the night she’d had the beer at the pizzeria, she had seen the look on Allan’s face when she’d let her hair down—admiration. But was it sexier if he removed the barrette? That if they started kissing, she would go from polished to ready for some fun loving?
She never thought about her clothes or hair this much for a date. A little, sure, because she didn’t want to be underdressed or overdressed for the occasion. But never all day, trying on clothes, taking them off. Trying her hair up, then down. Then up. Then down.
She groaned as she considered herself in the mirror. She wasn’t going to the church to get married today. No one was going to take pictures of the date, capturing what she looked like for all time. And really? She didn’t believe Allan would care. He’d seen her in frumpy and casual and nice, and he seemed to enjoy being with her no matter how she looked.
A knock at her door made her jump. She glanced at her watch. Either Allan was half an hour early, or someone else was knocking at her door. She hurried into the bedroom and grabbed her Glock from her bedside table drawer, then stalked toward the door.
When she reached it, she peered out. Rowdy was standing there. She frowned, worried he had bad news about the case. He couldn’t be thinking of joining her on her date with Allan tonight. Maybe he had bad news about Allan.
Trying not to overreact, she opened the door and Rowdy smiled appreciably at her. “Now I really wish you had gone out with me on a date.”