Max Collins - Girl Most Likely

“Just said hello.”

“Really, that’s all? You were something of an item back at GHS, as I recall.”

“Are you going to bust my... chops over that?”

“No. I’d just like to know if you stayed in touch with Astrid.”

“Not really.”

“That doesn’t sound like ‘no.’”

He sighed. Thought for a bit. “You really probably do need to know this, though I doubt it has anything to do with anything.”

“Why don’t you tell me and I’ll decide?”

“She called me about a week ago. From Chicago. She wondered if I was interested in helping her out on a story.”

“What story?”

“She wasn’t super specific. It was about men taking advantage of women. In a sexual way, I think.”

“You think?”

“We were going to get together... today, actually. This afternoon. She was going to tell me what it was about, and could I do some interviews for her, and so on. She said there was a local angle... not local Chicago, local Galena... but she wouldn’t be able to spend enough time here, and needed some ‘help on the ground.’”

“So is this workplace-related?”

“You now know what I know. Are we cool?”

She laughed faintly. “Sure. We’re cool. Go write your story. And file it.”

“You make that sound like an insult.”

“You writers. Always looking for subtext. Thank you, Mr. Ward. Would you mind sending Frank Wunder and his wife up?”

Frank and Brittany came unenthusiastically over. He was in a brown jacket, tan slacks, and yellow shirt; she was in a black lacy thing that cried out for tattoos. Her husband’s expression couldn’t make up its mind whether it was a smile or not, and Brittany’s blonde boredom was coming off her in waves.

He sat opposite Krista, and couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable if he’d been duct-taped to the chair. His short brown hair looked like he’d slept on it funny and the normally attractive green eyes, crowding his football-badge-of-honor broken nose, were bloodshot.

Brittany tossed Krista a slip of paper with their license plate number and car make/model. Frank was staring at the cell phone on the table like he’d never seen one before.

He asked Krista, “Are you expecting a call?”

“No. I’m recording us. Is that all right?”

Brittany asked, “Do you need our permission?”

“Not for the basic information, names, address.”

Frank said, “You know our names. Where we live.”

“I do know your names, but state them for me, would you? And I don’t know your phone number or numbers, or your street address, off the top of my head.”

Brittany rattled all that off. She had the expression of someone who would feel contempt for you if she only had enough interest.

Krista asked them about the evening before. Like Jerry, they had after-partied in the Lake View Lounge. Krista asked Frank who he’d seen there and specifically who he’d talked to. He told her. The list was similar to Jerry’s, though not exactly.

“Brittany,” Krista asked, “is there anyone Frank has left out?”

Brittany shrugged. “They’re not in my class.”

Which sounded a little ambiguous.

“Frank,” Krista said, “you and Astrid were something of an item at one time.”

Interceding, Brittany said, “Is that a question?”

“No, but—”

“I started going with Frank not long after he broke it off with her. They were only together a couple of weeks.”

That could be an eternity in high school time.

“Of course,” Brittany said, “she dated a lot of guys for a couple of weeks. Popular ones like Frank.”

“Did either of you talk to Astrid last night?”

Frank shook his head.

“You didn’t even say hello?”

“No. Astrid and me, we didn’t... you know, part on good terms.”

“How not good were those terms?”

Frank shrugged. “Oh, you know that was years ago. But some time passing doesn’t make me somebody she wanted to talk to now, and me her either.”

“What about you, Brittany?”

“I never talked to her at GHS and she never lowered herself to talking to a sophomore. If you’re looking for somebody to shed tears over that skank, find somebody with less mascara at risk.” She leaned forward and spoke to the cell. “This is Brittany Wunder speaking, in case there’s any doubt.”

Krista asked, “Were you in town in August, you two? Did you go anywhere? Vacation maybe? Either of you?”

Frank looked at Brittany and Brittany looked at Frank.

Then Brittany shook her head, saying, “No. We were both right here in glorious Galena. Why?”

Krista didn’t tell her.

After a few more questions, Krista thanked them and said they were free to go. That there might be follow-up.

Frank, already on his feet, looked startled. “Why would there be?”

Krista smiled and said, “I don’t know. Should something come up.”

“Why should it?”

His wife took him by the arm, a little thing hauling the big lug away, saying, “Come on, Frankie baby. Don’t question a hall pass.”

Krista mulled for a few moments. Frank seemed really thrown by Astrid’s murder — the Buick dealer for once hadn’t ragged her about not driving American.

She glanced over at the other officers and Booker, at their respective tables, talking to other classmates of hers. She doubted they’d get anywhere — none of the subjects were from Astrid’s crowd.

Then she glanced over at Jessica and Josh’s table, among the closer ones, and quickly caught Jessy’s eye. Smiled and nodded at her, and Jessy gathered her purse and her husband and joined Krista at the table.

Jessy, petite and curvy in a navy pantsuit and cream-colored silk blouse, sat across from Krista. Josh took the seat beside his wife; he unbuttoned his brown sport coat over his cranberry polo, both a little small for him. He was one of those slightly overweight guys who couldn’t face up to reality. Still, he was handsome enough, his dark blond hair combed, his dark blue eyes not at all bloodshot, and for once she detected no scent of caramel corn.

Jessy leaned over, batting her big brown eyes, and touched Krista’s hand. “You are doing so well, sweetie! I’m proud of you. And you always said you were shy! Going out for that musical really paid off. Standing up there, you were... honey, you were commanding.”

“Right,” she said. “Thanks. Do you have your vehicle info written down?”

Josh handed the slip to her.

“I’m recording this,” Krista told them. “Would you each state your name and would one of you give your address and any phone numbers?”

They did that.

Jessy sat forward, smiling tightly, her purse on her lap. “Honey, we were here last night, like a lot of people, till well after two. First, in the bar. Then we sat by that fireplace, the sitting area in the lobby? You want to know who we saw, who we talked to?”

“Yes,” Krista said.

Jessy told her.

“You know,” Jessy volunteered, “Josh went with Astrid for a while. But I mean, what guy on the Pirates didn’t? The backfield, anyway. Backfield in motion, like they say.”

Behind all that chatty chatter, she knew, Jessy was a nervous wreck.

Why?

Again, with no prompting, Jessy started in. “I said hello to Astrid, talked to her for about two seconds. Told her how cool it was she was doing so well. That was it. That was early, before the band started. I don’t think she stayed very late. Josh? Did you talk to her?”

He shrugged. “Said hi. I was standing right next to you, sweetheart.”

Krista said, “You were gone in August, I remember. Something to do with your sister?”

“Right, yeah, we visited her and Gary. Right, Josh?”