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Shadows Still Remain. Peter Jonge De
Читать онлайн.Название Shadows Still Remain
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007335633
Автор произведения Peter Jonge De
Жанр Зарубежные детективы
Издательство HarperCollins
“Me too,” says Lowry, “but I weigh three hundred and sixty, on a good day, and not even my mother thinks I’m cute.”
That would explain it, thinks O’Hara, and Lowry flashes such a hard look, she wonders if she said it out loud.
“Anything else?” asks Lowry, still staring hard.
“After her friends leave, a guy or maybe the guy comes over and tries to chat her up, and according to Conway, she gently shoots him down. Again according to Conway, there’s no drama, and the guy leaves an hour before she does, unfortunately after paying in cash.”
“How about the ex-boyfriend who reported Pena missing?”
“David McLain,” says O’Hara, “I don’t think so.”
“Oh really,” says Lowry. O’Hara is not sure if she hears more sarcasm or condescension. Condescension, probably.
“Torturing someone for hours, then walking into the station and filing a report seems like a stretch for a nineteen-year-old slacker from Westfield, Mass., who’d been in the city three weeks. Me and Krekorian talked to him again last night before Pena was found. The kid’s a mess, but he’s not going anywhere. If he killed her, I don’t think he’d stick around.”
“That’s all you got for me in two days?”
O’Hara makes a show of slowly thumbing through her notes one more time, and although they contain several more items worth mentioning, including Conway’s observation about the unlikelihood of a beauty like Pena closing a bar alone, and K.’s related question about why she would stay even after blowing off the guy, O’Hara elects not to share them, telling herself a certified legend like Lowry would have picked up on such obvious irregularities himself.
“That’s it,” says O’Hara, closing her notebook.
“Then I need two things,” says Lowry. “Her so-called friends in the precinct and the phone records for her last forty-eight hours.”
An hour later, while O’Hara is still waiting on return calls from Chestnut and company, Krekorian brings over a printout from T-Mobile, and O’Hara can tell by the way he drops it on her desk, he thinks there’s something in it.
“Between Wednesday night and yesterday afternoon, Pena got eleven calls—two from her mother, four from her father, and five from McLain.”
“It’s her stepfather,” says O’Hara.
“Stepfather,” says Krekorian, “whatever. The last incoming call she picked up was at eight-thirty p.m. Wednesday night from Chestnut,” he says. “That checks with what you got from McLain about Pena meeting her friends at eight-thirty In total, she got seven calls her last two days—two from McLain, two from Chestnut, one each from Case, Singh and her parents. Over the same period, there are five outgoing calls—one each to Chestnut, Singh, and Case and two to McLain.”
“In other words,” says O’Hara, “no calls to or from anyone we don’t already know about.”
“Yeah, but only making five calls in two days? For a nineteen-year-old girl? That’s got to be a record.”
“You read the stories, K. Practice, studying, volunteer work. Pena had a lot on her plate.”
A little after four, Chestnut, Singh and Case arrive together, each chaperoned by a middle-aged male attorney. O’Hara clears the lunch table of debris, pulls up a couple extra chairs and is in the midst of thanking the debutantes for coming, when Lowry steps up to the table with his own chair and cuts her off.
“Was Pena having trouble with anyone?” he asks. “A student, a teacher?”
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