Free Ugly As Sin by James Newman Page A

conversation while Nick’s Bronco sat idling in front of Melissa’s former home.
    The sheriff was suddenly uninterested in finishing his favorite meal. He pushed his plate aside, slid a pen and a small notepad from his breast pocket.
    “Leon Purdy,” he said, as he scribbled something on the pad. “Assuming the little scumbag was telling you the truth, this changes everything. Why hasn’t he come forward with this information before now?”
    “He was scared. And Leon claims his relationship with local law enforcement is...strained.”
    “He ain’t seen nothing yet,” said the sheriff. “Son of a bitch.”
    The waitress returned with Nick’s tea. Ice cubes clinked against the inside of the glass as she set it in front of him.
    “Sandra, can you bring the check?” Mackey was already dropping a few dollar bills on the table for her tip, preparing to scoot out of the booth. “I’ve gotta roll.”
     
    †
     
    Melissa picked up the phone halfway through its third ring. Several seconds passed before she mumbled into it, “Hello?”
    Nick couldn’t tell whether she sounded half-asleep because he had woke her, or perhaps she had taken something to ease her mental anguish since he saw her last.
    According to the clock on his motel room nightstand, the time was a few minutes past eight p.m.
    “Melissa, it’s Nick. We need to talk.”
    “What’s going on?” Instantly, she was wide-awake. “Did you find out anything new?”
    “I met your neighbor.”
    “Leon?”
    “That’s the guy.”
    “Leon’s an idiot.”
    “I noticed.”
    He heard the shnick of a lighter on her end of the line.
    “I walked in on him tossing your bedroom. Trying to find Eddie’s stash.”
    “What a loser.” She didn’t sound surprised, though. “It’s not the first time he’s pulled this shit.”
    “No?”
    “About a year ago we came home to find him standing in our hallway bathroom. He’d pulled the lid off the toilet tank. Looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Except in this case it was Leon with his hand in our crapper, blue up to his arms.”
    “Jesus.”
    “Why are we talking about that dumbass, anyway? What does Leon have to do with any of this?”
    “Turns out he was my ‘number one fan’ back in the day. But he got nervous as hell when I brought up Eddie’s murder. He saw something that night, I was sure of it. So I put the pressure on him, got him talking.”
    “And?”
    “Melissa, do you think Eddie might have had ties to organized crime?”
    “You’re talking about the mob ? This is Midnight. Stuff like that doesn’t go on here.”
    “Fourteen-year-old girls aren’t supposed to disappear either,” said Nick.
    She didn’t say anything.
    “How about the people he associated with? Any idea where he got his drugs?”
    “He never told me. I never asked. I must have seen some of the same faces drop by the house now and then. I remember this one black guy who always seemed to make Eddie nervous. But I never knew their names. I didn’t want to know them.”
    “Think you would recognize any of those people if you saw them again?”
    “Maybe. Probably not. Usually he just met them out at the curb. He never invited them inside. Why?”
    “Leon was hiding in the woods the night Eddie was killed. He saw four men come out of the house. They had Sophie.”
    “I knew it!” She started sobbing. “Oh, my baby...”
    “Melissa, it’s gonna be okay. I promise.” But even as he said it, Nick wondered: Where do I get off promising her anything? For all I know, her kid is already dead, buried in a shallow grave somewhere off I-26 ...
    Neither of them said anything for the next few seconds. He heard her draw deeply on her cigarette several times, then exhale slowly. Trying to calm herself.
    “I spoke with the sheriff,” Nick said. “He’s looking into Leon’s story.”
    “Good. That’s good.”
    “He said Sophie called you, two days after she went missing. Why didn’t you tell me