Free The Night Is Alive by Heather Graham Page A

for about a month. Helen had grown up in Atlanta but come to Savannah to be an extra in a pirate movie, since the exterior shots were filmed in the city. She’d been waiting to see if she’d gotten a part in another movie about to be filmed down in New Iberia, and she’d been honest with Dirk about her intentions.
    “I did see her. She had lunch here, yes.”
    “Do you remember seeing her leave?” he asked.
    “Yes. Wait, no—she was with some girlfriends and they left first. She stayed at the bar awhile longer. I don’t know when she left. I went back upstairs after I talked to her,” Abby explained. “But my staff and a few customers might be able to tell you more. Dirk was here himself at the time, sitting with Bootsie—Bob Lanigan—and Aldous Brentwood. My bartender, Jerry Sullivan, was on, as was the day manager, Macy Sterling. I’m sure they’d be more helpful.” Abby paused, wondering about something. “Helen’s been missing since she was seen at lunch yesterday? I thought you had to wait until an adult was gone for more than twenty-four hours before you filed a report.”
    “Usually,” Peters agreed. “But...we’ve had a few people go missing and then turn up dead. Like I said, her roommate called it in when she woke up this morning. Helen never came home last night. And she hasn’t shown up today. So—” he cleared his throat “—we’re starting early with this one.”
    “I see. I’m glad,” Abby told him. “She’s a sweet girl, Detective. I wish I could help you. And you should speak with my staff and my customers. They may know more.”
    “I’ll do that tomorrow, thank you. And if you can think of anyone else who might’ve seen her, please get in touch.” He passed her a card, which she tucked into her pocket.
    “Of course!”
    “Well, then, good night,” Peters said. He looked as if he wanted to say more. “I’m sorry,” he said again, “but this was the last place her girlfriends saw her, so...”
    “If you want to search these premises, you’re more than welcome to do so,” she assured him.
    “I’ll try to speak with your people first,” Peters said. “Someone might’ve seen her leave—and they might’ve seen who she left with.”
    “I hope so. I have a list of numbers. You can call them now, if you wish. It’s really not that late.”
    “Thank you.”
    Abby hurried back behind the bar and found the list Sullivan kept there of their regulars. He was a good bartender and liked to memorize their drinks. Then she moved over to the host stand to find the sheet with staff contact information, as well. Peters waited politely at the door. She gave him the pages and he thanked her.
    Abby locked the door again and stood there for a moment. Where the hell was Blue?
    Not making an appearance that night, it seemed. Wearily she went back upstairs, sorted out the papers that had flown everywhere and sat back down.
    Helen.
    She felt horrible. She knew Helen.
    So far, those who’d disappeared had taken a few days to be discovered.
    Maybe there was still hope.
    She stared down at the paper that was back in her hands, written in Gus’s broad scrawl.

    The murders. Am I right? Call Abby.

    This time, as she reflected, she nearly jumped sky-high again when the office phone on the desk began to ring.
    Once again, papers flew.
    “Abby!” It was Dirk Johansen. She knew why he had to be calling....
    “Hi, Dirk.”
    “Oh, my God! My actress—my pirate wench—Helen. She’s missing,” he said.
    “I know, Dirk. I’m so sorry.”
    “You know?”
    “A detective was just here. Apparently, she was last seen having lunch at the tavern.”
    His voice was thick. “Yeah, that’s the last time I saw her, too. I told the cops that,” he added.
    “Did you see her leave?”
    “Yep. She was teasing about the pirate days with Aldous, Bootsie and me...and Sullivan. Then she looked at her watch and said she had an appointment. She didn’t say who with. She just went running