Free In the Clearing by Robert Dugoni Page B

was a good student and a responsible daughter. According to the article in the Sentinel she’d earned a partial scholarship to UW, where she would run track. She was athletic, bright, beautiful, and, by all accounts, well-adjusted. Would she really throw herself in the river over a boy? Over Tommy Moore? Buzz supposed it possible, but he didn’t think so. For one, he wasn’t convinced the breakup had been mutual, as Moore insisted. People who said such things were usually protecting their egos. He thought it much more likely Moore had been the dumpee rather than the dumper.
    And he couldn’t ignore the damage to Moore’s truck.
    Buzz came out of his reverie when he drove past the Columbia Diner. He checked his rearview mirror, determined it was safe to make a U-turn, and drove back to the diner’s gravel parking lot. He sat a minute, debating with himself, then shut off the engine and got out. The temperature had warmed a few degrees, though it remained cold enough to see his breath.
    Buzz walked up the wooden stairs and stepped inside to the smell of deep-fried food. The whole place couldn’t have been more than eight hundred square feet, with just five booths and half a dozen barstools at the Formica counter, where a lone man sat working at a piece of fried chicken with a fork and knife, and nursing a mug of coffee.
    A waitress greeted Buzz from behind the counter. “Just seat yourself,” she said, despite the sign that instructed customers to wait to be seated. “Be with you in a minute.”
    Buzz took a booth near the picture window with a view of the parking lot and the road. The waitress approached with a pot of coffee, turned over his mug, and filled it. “Get you a menu?”
    “Just a cup of coffee,” he said.
    “You’re new,” she said, looking at his uniform.
    “I am. Just a few months.”
    “Welcome.” She was an attractive middle-aged woman, tall and thin, with hair pure silver and cut short as a man’s, revealing hoop earrings. Blue shadow brought out the blue of her eyes. “Where’re you from?”
    “Most recently? Vietnam.”
    “Sorry to hear that. Army?”
    “Marines, by way of Orange County in Southern California.”
    “Orange County? Disneyland’s down there, isn’t it?”
    “Not far. Anaheim.”
    “Took the kids one summer. Hotter than blazes. And the smog? I don’t know how people can breathe that all day, especially kids.”
    “Those are two of the reasons we didn’t go back.”
    “How many you got?”
    “Two girls. One on the way.”
    “Good for you. Got some apple pie to go with that coffee.”
    “Homemade?”
    “Don’t insult me. I wouldn’t serve it if it wasn’t.” She stuck out a hand. “I’m Lorraine.” Her name was also on the copper name tag pinned to her uniform.
    Buzz looked at the four pies in the glass case near the cash register. “I’d love a piece of apple pie, Lorraine.”
    Lorraine departed and returned with a thick slice and a fork. She stood waiting for Buzz to take a bite. His taste buds exploded when the apples and cinnamon hit his tongue. “Wow,” he said. “I’ll deny ever saying it, but this is better than my mother’s.”
    Lorraine gave him a smile, but it had a sad quality to it. The entire diner, nearly empty, had a sad quality to it. Buzz saw no reason to hide his intent for coming in. “I was the officer who responded to the call when Kimi Kanasket went missing.”
    Lorraine grimaced as if stabbed in the chest, but what she said surprised Buzz. “Then you know it doesn’t make any sense.”
    “What doesn’t make any sense?”
    “That Kimi would do such a thing.”
    “How’d she seem to you that night?”
    Lorraine sat across from him, her knees angled so they were in the aisle. “She seemed fine. She seemed just fine.”
    “I heard her boyfriend came in.”
    “Tommy Moore,” she said, nearly spitting his name. “Jackass brought a girl in here with him.”
    “What was Kimi’s reaction?”
    “Honestly? She seemed