Free Definitely Dead by Charlaine Harris Page B

each other in weeks, and he’s dating someone else now. So Debbie really was mistaken in what she thought.”
    Sandra Pelt bit her lower lip. She was lean, with clear skin and dark brown hair. She wore little makeup, and her teeth were dazzlingly white and even. Her hoop earrings could provide a perch for a parakeet; they were that big. She had a narrow body and expensive clothes: top of the mall chain.
    Her expression was angry. She didn’t like what I was saying, not one little bit. She was an adolescent, and there were strong surges of emotion in the girl. I remembered what my life had been like when I’d been Sandra’s age, and I pitied her.
    “Since you knew both of them,” Barbara Pelt said carefully, not acknowledging my words, “you must have known that they had—they have—a strong love-hate relationship, no matter what Debbie did.”
    “Oh, that’s true,” I said, and maybe I didn’t sound respectful enough. If there was anyone I’d done a big favor to in killing Debbie Pelt, that person was Alcide Herveaux. Otherwise, he and la Pelt would have been tearing each other up for years, if not the rest of their lives.
    Sam turned away when the phone rang, but I glimpsed a smile on his face.
    “We just feel that there must be something you know, some tiny little thing, that would help us discover what happened to our daughter. If—if she’s met her end, we want her killer to come to justice.”
    I looked at the Pelts for a long moment. I could hear Sam’s voice in the background as he reacted with astonishment to something he was hearing over the telephone.
    “Mr. and Mrs. Pelt, Sandra,” I said. “I talked to the police when Debbie vanished. I cooperated with them fully. I talked to your private investigators when they came here, to my place of work, just like you’ve done. I let them come into my home. I answered their questions.” Just not truthfully.
    (I know, the whole edifice was a lie, but I was doing the best I could.)
    “I am very sorry for your loss and I sympathize with your anxiety to discover what’s happened to Debbie,” I continued, speaking slowly so I could pick my words. I took a deep breath. “But this has got to end. Enough’s enough. I can’t tell you a thing other than what I’ve already told you.”
    To my surprise, Sam edged around me and went into the bar, moving fast. He didn’t say a word to anyone in the room. Father Riordan glanced after him, startled. I became even more anxious for the Pelts to leave. Something was up.
    “I understand what you’re saying,” Gordon Pelt said stiffly. It was the first time the man had spoken. He didn’t sound happy to be where he was, or to be doing what he was doing. “I realize we haven’t gone about this in the best way, but I’m sure you’ll excuse us when you think about what we’ve been through.”
    “Oh, of course,” I said, and if that wasn’t a complete truth, it wasn’t a complete lie, either. I shut my purse and stowed it in the drawer in Sam’s desk where all the servers kept their purses, and I hurried out to the bar.
    I felt the upheaval wash over me. Something was wrong; almost every brain in the bar was broadcasting a signal combining excitement with anxiety bordering on panic.
    “What’s up?” I asked Sam, sidling behind the bar.
    “I just told Holly that the school called. Holly’s little boy is missing.”
    I felt the chill start at the base of my spine and work up. “What happened?”
    “Danielle’s mom usually picks up Cody from school when she picks up Danielle’s little girl, Ashley.” Danielle Gray and Holly Cleary had been best friends all through high school and their friendship had continued through the failure of both their marriages. They liked to work the same shift. Danielle’s mother, Mary Jane Jasper, had been a life saver for Danielle, and from time to time her generosity had spilled over to include Holly. Ashley must be about eight, and Danielle’s son, Mark Robert,