LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Tell him about the gig, Heather,” Lisa prompted.

      “What gig?” asked Decker.

      “Photography gig,” Lisa answered. “See, Chris didn’t get it together with Lindsey that day—”

      “Why don’t you let Heather tell it, since Chris made the friggin’ phone call to her?” Brian interrupted.

      All eyes went to Heather. She drew her knees into her chest and rolled herself up into a tight ball.

      “He had this photography gig,” she began in a small voice. “I think it was a wedding or a baptism. I forget. Anyway, he said that’s why he didn’t make it. He asked me to pass the word to Lindsey. See, he was off-limits to her. Her parents hated him even though they’d only met him once. Lindsey didn’t want to upset them by telling them that she was in love with Chris, so she lied and said that she broke up with him. But she didn’t. Anyway, she never showed up and I thought she’d just made other plans. Sometimes Lindsey’d forget things if she’d get real involved with her makeup or nails.”

      Decker told her to go on.

      “Anyway, much later that night,” Heather continued, “her mom had called me, all freaked out. Lindsey hadn’t come home. Was she at my house? God, I got all freaked myself. I didn’t know what to think. Where was Lindsey? She didn’t show up at the mall, she wasn’t at home … home she really did take off with Chris and he just told me he didn’t meet her at the Galleria to throw me off base. So I called Chris and asked him. But he swore no. I didn’t think he was lying. I mean, he really, really loved her.” She paused, then said. “God, I’ve thought about the whole thing over and over. What went wrong? What really happened to poor Lindsey? I’ve had a ton of nightmares. I just don’t know what to think anymore.” She buried her face in her knees and began to sob. “I don’t feel so good.”

      Lisa threw her arms around her and rocked her back and forth.

      Peter, you callous asshole, thought Decker. He comforted himself by saying he was on the right side.

      When Heather seemed to have calmed down, he asked, “Have any of you had contact with Chris since Lindsey’s disappearance?”

      “A little. Like the first week after she split,” Brian said. “He kept coming to the neighborhood, trying to find her. Then, nothing.”

      “Chris and I used to ride in a bike club together,” answered a boy with lank dark hair and a huge Adam’s apple. His voice was a rich baritone and his name was Marc. “I saw him a couple of weeks ago, first time since Lindsey disappeared. He had sold his bike to someone at the club; said he was hard up for cash. I believe it. He looked terrible, totally wiped out. Asked me if I had heard from Lindsey. ’Course I didn’t.” The boy’s black eyes were sharp and alive. “He couldn’t have killed her, Officer. I’m not saying they didn’t take off together, but he couldn’t rip her off. He was really wild about her.”

      “Any of you know his phone number by heart?”

      “He’s listed,” Lisa said.

      “Did Chris and Lindsey hang around you guys or did they have their own set of friends?”

      “They hung around us sometimes,” Heather said. “Sometimes, me and my boyfriend would double with them. But they tried to be alone as much as possible. I don’t know much about his friends.”

      “Did Lindsey ever talk about knowing a deaf girl?”

      “Dead?” Brian asked.

      “Deaf,” Lisa snapped. “Like you can’t hear.”

      “Huh?” Brian joked.

      “Get serious, Armor. This isn’t the time,” Marc scolded. He looked back at Decker. “She never mentioned any deaf girl to me.”

      “To me either,” said Heather.

      “Any friend of Chris’s deaf?”

      Blank stares.

      “So none of you heard a thing about Lindsey after she disappeared.”

      They all shook their heads.

      “Did Lindsey ever talk, even jokingly, about running away with Chris?”

      “Lindsey may have dug the guy,” Marc said, “but she wasn’t the type to do something like take off. She had lots of plans for the senior year.”

      “What kind of plans?” Decker asked.

      “The prom. Varsity cheerleading,” Heather said.

      “She was really into cheerleading,” added Lisa. “And modeling. She wanted to be a model. She certainly had the body for it.”

      “I’ll say,” Brian said lecherously. The other kids gave him reproving looks. The boy blushed.

      “Lindsey seemed to be a nice girl,” Decker said. “Considerate of her parents, not wanting to hurt their feelings by going with Chris. Enthusiastic about cheerleading. Anybody want to add anything?”

      “She was a doll,” Lisa said. “Not real heavy on the gray matter—”

      “Like you are?” Brian said.

      “Shut up, Armor.”

      Suddenly Brian became enraged. “Will you quit picking on me!” he screamed, turning crimson.

      The room fell silent. A minute passed, then Brian let out a hollow laugh.

      “She was a great kid,” he said in a cracked voice. “She was nice to everyone … even me.”

      “She was real sweet,” Marc said softly. “The world could use more positive people like her.”

      Decker had to admit it; she didn’t sound like a prototypical runaway. No evidence of heavy drug use, she didn’t seem to hate her parents, she had a supportive peer group and was involved in school activities. It was beginning to smell like an abduction. Which meant either the boyfriend was involved and Decker would have a substantial lead, or the boyfriend wasn’t and he was up shit’s creek without a paddle.

      Decker folded his notepad and distributed his cards.

      “If any one of you thinks of something that might help, give me a call.”

      Lisa squinted and mouthed the word “Decker.”

      “You got a daughter on the intramural track team?” she asked.

      Decker nodded. “You know Cindy?”

      “Not personally. I just remember this long-legged redhead named Decker who competed last year. Ran like lightning. She should go into the Olympics or something.”

      Despite himself, Decker swelled with parental pride.

      His watch said 6:15. Hard to believe that he’d been in there for over an hour and a half. He was supposed to meet with the rabbi at eight, so he had plenty of time to fix himself dinner. But he wasn’t hungry.

      A nice girl disappears and turns up a corpse, murdered gruesomely. The scenario suppressed his appetite. Making matters worse, the case had little to go on.

      It became all too clear to him why he had transferred out of Homicide. Any victim was better than a dead one. True, he’d seen his fair share of assholes getting blown away in sour drug deals and junkies who kicked themselves. The memories didn’t keep him up at night. It was cases like this one that left the bile in this throat.

      A nice girl.

      He thought of his own daughter. She was safe, he assured himself. She was careful. But the words seemed empty. Careful wasn’t enough.

      His daughter. Alone in New York.

      He took out a cigarette.

      He’d call Jan the minute he got home. Cindy and Eric living together? He thought that was

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