Free Fear the Dark by Chris Mooney

Sammy, David never mentioned it to me. Well, there was – never mind, it’s stupid.’
    ‘Tell me.’
    ‘She said he smelled. Like garbage.’

15
    Darby had her pen poised over her notebook. ‘Who smelled like garbage?’
    ‘This man at Sammy’s college,’ Kelly replied.
    ‘This man was a student?’
    ‘I think so. I don’t know for sure. I overheard Sammy talking to her father about it, when she came to the office to get his keys.’
    ‘When did you overhear this conversation?’
    Kelly’s face reddened with embarrassment. ‘I wasn’t eavesdropping, if that’s what you’re insinuating,’ she said. ‘The door was open and they were chitchatting about college, how classes were going – that sort of thing.’
    ‘When was this?’
    ‘In … September, I think. Yes, early September. College had just started, and Sammy had come by the office to get her father’s car keys, because the car she used, Linda’s Buick, was having problems again. David told her to take his car to Denver because he was worried about her getting stuck on the road. Sammy said something along the lines of, “Remember that guy who came to class and made the room smell like a garbage truck? He never came back.” Something like that.’
    ‘Did she mention a name by any chance?’
    Kelly shook her head. ‘The way she said it, though … She sounded sad. Like she felt bad for him.’
    ‘Did Samantha or Mr Downes ever mention this man again?’
    ‘No.’ Kelly casually waved a hand near her face, as if trying to swat away a fly, and added, ‘It’s probably nothing. Frankly, I feel foolish for even mentioning it.’
    ‘Don’t.’ Darby placed her hand on the woman’s bony wrist and smiled. ‘What can you tell me about Samantha’s friends?’
    ‘I know she was close to a couple of girlfriends from high school. Jennifer and the other one there … Debbie, I think her name was.’
    ‘Last names?’
    ‘I don’t know. I do know they’re no longer here. They moved away after college. Somewhere on the East Coast, I think. Most of Sammy’s friends moved away, there was certainly no reason for them to stay here. She was very close to her parents. Only children are sometimes like that. I wouldn’t know personally – the good Lord didn’t bless me with children – but I’ve read articles about how only children have attachment issues. As adults, they like to stick close to their families. Or so these so-called experts say.’
    ‘Did she have a boyfriend? Anyone serious?’
    ‘Not that I know of. She dated, obviously – she was a beautiful girl – but I didn’t know any of her beaus – and I most certainly did not ask.’
    The way Sally Kelly spoke and acted for some reasonreminded Darby of another era: the time of Prohibition and speakeasies, when women wore skirts that covered their knees. A time when men wore fedoras and nice suits and courted women and had the manners of proper gentlemen – opening car and restaurant doors, goodnight pecks on the cheek, calling everyone ‘miss’.
    Darby closed her notebook and placed her business card on the table. ‘If you remember or think of anything else, you can call me on my cell. You can also leave a message for me at the station or at the hotel, the Silver Moon Inn. Thank you for your time, Miss Kelly.’
    Sally Kelly gripped the back of the bench and struggled to rise.
    ‘I can let myself out,’ Darby said. ‘Please, sit.’
    ‘I need to lock up after you leave.’
    Darby helped the woman to her feet. ‘What’s your take on the Red Hill Ripper?’
    ‘My take?’
    ‘You have any thoughts on it?’
    Kelly looked like she’d been asked to lick a toilet seat. ‘Absolutely not,’ she said, as they shuffled into the living-room. ‘That is not a topic I choose to dwell on.’
    ‘Why’s that?’
    ‘Are you married? Live with anyone?’
    Darby shook her head.
    ‘I’ve been on my own my whole life. You reach a certain age and you learn to shut out certain things or