Mariah Stewart - Last Words

“Sometime this morning, but no, I didn’t notice the time.”

“I guess you didn’t see her leave the parking lot?” Mia asked.

“No, but you could ask over at The Coffee Counter.” Karen pointed out the door. “She said she was going to stop there.”

“Thanks,” Beck said. “You’ve been very helpful.”

“It’s so horrible, what he did to those girls.” A frightened look came over the young girl’s face. “Do you think you’ll catch him soon?”

“We’re doing our best,” Beck told her.

“Me and my friends, we’re scared to go out at night,” Karen confided.

“Good,” Beck told her. “If you’re not scared, you won’t be cautious. And being cautious could mean the difference between…”

The girl’s eyes widened.

“What he means is, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Stick with your friends and stay together if you go anyplace,” Mia told her, and nudged Beck toward the door. “Thanks again. You’ve been very helpful.”

Once outside, Mia asked, “What were you trying to do, scare the living shit out of her?”

“Yes. She should be scared.”

“But not paralyzed with fear.” Mia pointed up ahead. “There’s The Coffee Counter. Maybe we’ll find Lisa at some small table, knee-deep in an interview and strung out on caffeine and donuts.”

“With luck.” He pushed the door open and held it for her to follow him inside.

The shop was small, with a long counter lined with a dozen stools, a second smaller counter where orders were given and filled, and yet another long counter with more stools. There were two tables for four, and two tables for two near the front windows. A glass case held a variety of scones, donuts, and croissants. A middle-aged man stepped from behind the counter and waved to Beck.

“Chief, how’s it going?” He greeted Beck, and nodded in Mia’s direction.

“Not so good, Steve.”

“Yeah, I gathered.” The man nodded.

“Steve, you see Sergeant Singer today?”

“She was in earlier. Asking about those girls who got killed and wrapped up.” He shook his head. “That’s some bad business, Chief.”

“The worst. Listen, did you notice what time she left the shopping center?”

“No, sorry. We were talking about those girls for a while-they’d all been in here, one time or another. She had a bunch of questions, you know, did I remember them, did I ever see them with anyone, or talking with anyone, that sort of thing.”

“What did you tell her?” Mia asked.

“I said I never really noticed who they were with. I mean, the way we’re set up here, people are always talking to one another, and half the town is in here at one point or another on any given day. One of the reasons I set it up like this, nice way for folks to meet, you know? Sort of encourages conversation. People sit next to strangers, you never know who you’re going to meet.”

Mia and Beck exchanged a long look.

“Thanks, Steve.” Beck started toward the door.

“You might stop over at the Goal Post and see what time she left there,” Steve called to him.

Beck turned around and asked, “The Goal Post?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “I told her that one of those girls-the little blond one, the girl from Cameron-had a big bag of stuff with her one time. I asked her if she wanted me to put it behind the counter while she had her coffee, the place was real crowded, and the shopping bag didn’t fit under the stool. She handed it over to me and I put it on the floor, right back there.” He pointed to the far counter. “I saw the name on the bag. The Goal Post. So when the sarge asked me about the girls, I told her she might want to try over there. See if anyone remembers her.”

“Thanks a lot, Steve, you’ve been a big help.” Beck pushed the door open and stepped outside. When Mia joined him on the sidewalk, he said, “Funny, I don’t remember Mickey mentioning that one of the victims was a customer of his.”

“He may not have known.” Mia hurried to catch up with him. “He may not have been in the store when Mindy was doing her shopping.”

“You’d think the clerk who waited on her would have remembered and would have mentioned it to him, and that he’d have mentioned it to me.” They reached the sporting goods store. “Let’s see what he has to say about it…”

They entered the store and went straight to the back. A young sales person in a white polo shirt and black soccer shorts approached them.

“Can I help you?”

“We’d like to speak with Mickey Forbes,” Beck told him.

“I’m sorry, he’s not in this afternoon. He owns the car place down the road, Bay Motors? Would you like me to call and see if he’s there?”

“Was he in this morning?”

“Well, earlier, for about an hour, but…”

“How about a policewoman, in uniform?” Beck asked curtly. “Was she in?”

“This morning, she was asking…”

“Who’d she talk to? You? Or Mr. Forbes?”

“Both of us.” The young man looked confused. “She asked us both about one of the women who got killed, wanted to know if we remembered her. I didn’t. Mr. Forbes, he said he didn’t, either, but he’d have someone check to see if there were any credit card sales to her and he’d give her a call if he found anything.”

“And the officer left the store?”

The sales clerk nodded.

“And Mr. Forbes? How long after did he leave?”

“I don’t know, a few minutes, I guess.”

“Thanks. Make that call for us now, please.” Beck pointed toward the phone.

The clerk did as he was told.

“He isn’t there,” he told Beck, his hand over the receiver. “Do you want to leave a message for him to call you?”

“Yes. Chief Beck. St. Dennis P.D. He knows how to find me.”

Beck turned and left the store.

“Thanks for your help,” Mia called to the clerk as she caught the swinging door.

“Now what?” She caught up with Beck at her car.

“Now we track down Mickey Forbes and see what else he knows that he hasn’t told us.”

“Vanessa, any chance you might have seen Mickey Forbes today?” Beck had dialed her shop as soon as he got into the car. He leaned back against the headrest and exhaled loudly. “When was that?”

“Where did you go?”

“What time did he leave…?”

From the driver’s side, Mia could hear Vanessa’s protest.

“Because I need to talk to him, that’s why. Where did he go when he…Thanks. And Ness? Stay clear of him for a while, okay?”

Mia figured his ears were still ringing after he hung up the phone.

He caught her glancing in his direction, and said, “What? You think I was a little heavy handed? She’s my sister, and he’s…” He paused.

“He’s what? A guy who’s interested in her?” She stopped at the light. “It’s obvious from your conversation that she was with Mickey this morning.”

“They had lunch at Lola’s.” Beck rubbed his chin. “She said he got there around noon and left about an hour and a half ago. Went back to the car dealership.”

“So which way?” she asked. “Should I make a U-turn or go straight? I’m assuming you still want to talk to Mickey.”

“Yeah. Take a right at the next light…”

Mickey Forbes was front and center in the showroom when they arrived.

“Hey, Beck. I just got the message you called. Let me guess…you’re in the market for something to replace that old Jeep of yours. I just got a really nice Saab in on Friday, guy traded it in for a Jag. It’s right over…”

“I’m not looking for a car, Mickey.” Beck lowered his voice. “Is there someplace where we can talk?”

“Sure. Right on in here.” Mickey pointed toward an open door. “How’s it going, Agent Shields? Nice wheels you have there, Lexus is a fine car…”