North Country(53)

“Yeah, hey, sorry.” I wince. I’ve never been good at small talk. “The young blond we escorted out last night at curfew. Did you see her again?”

“Uh … no, not that I recall, but it was busy as hell in here. I mean, you saw it.”

“Yeah, but I left early.”

“Joey wouldn’t have let her back in, even with a fake ID.” There’s a pause. “Why?”

“Her mother’s looking for her, and her phone says she’s still there. Did anyone turn it in?”

“It has a pink case with silver sparkles,” Isla interjects loudly.

“You heard that?” I ask.

“Pink case, silver sparkles,” Matt repeats, and I can picture his brow furrowing. “I didn’t see anything turned in this morning. Let me look around. Like I said, it was stupid busy.”

“Okay. Thanks, Matt. Let me know.”

“You got it.”

The unease slipping into my spine with each passing minute grows exponentially.

“What now?” My daughter looks to me, concern in her eyes.

I think about those young girls sitting on the back of that tailgate, about all the people coming in and out of that place on a busy Friday night.

About the Murphys, and about the kinds of people Hank associates with, including apparently a vile rapist pig like Travis Dorsey.

“Keep asking around. Find out everything you know. Every little detail, even the stuff your friends don’t want me to know.” I punctuate that with a serious look.

Isla nods solemnly.

And I start making calls.





The Bale House is quiet when I push through the doors that afternoon, with only three tables seated and an old man hunched in his stool by the bar, paying no one and nothing but his pint any heed. My platoon sergeant, Clara, is waiting with Matt by the bar, her lengthy red hair braided today.

I nod in greeting. “Where was it?”

“On an empty skid out back. One of the kitchen guys found it.” Matt’s got bags under his eyes. The man works long hours any given day, but on holiday weekends like this, we’ve seen him rolling out as late as four a.m. only to return a few hours later to let the kitchen staff in.

I look to Clara. “Have you canvassed out back yet?”

“Not yet. Samir’s out there now. We did a quick eyeball but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary besides the broken surveillance camera. ”

“Yeah, that’s been like that for weeks,” Matt admits. “I keep replacing them and—”

“Show me where your staff found the phone,” I interrupt, in no mood for chitchat. Holly still hasn’t come home, and she didn’t stay at any of her friends’ houses, according to Isla’s digging.

“Sure thing.” Matt leads us down the long narrow hall and out the back door.

I note a tin can holding spent cigarette butts and the smashed camera above as we follow Matt about thirty feet away to a stack of wooden pallets.

“Hey, Staff.” Samir lifts his uniform cap to scratch his thick mane of black hair before resetting it. “Kitchen guy said he found the phone here, tucked down in between the slats. He heard it vibrating when he came out to toss the garbage.”

“What time was that at?”

“Around one o’clock.”

That must have been when Isla was calling.

There’s another can for cigarette butts nearby. “What is this area? Do people hang out here?”

“Sometimes my staff does, yeah.” Matt nods. “If they’re sneaking out for a break. Gives them somewhere to sit that’s not right by the door.”

“Beside the dumpsters?” I scan the massive gravel lot. Beyond it is a sparse row of leafy trees and then acres of farm fields. There’s not much of anything out here, besides the pallets, the two covered garbage bins, and, not too far off, Matt’s truck.

“I looked inside those already,” Clara says before I have a chance to ask. “One’s empty and the other has five bags.”

“Truck came yesterday,” Matt confirms.

“Okay, thanks. We’ll let you know when we have more questions for you.” I need time to think without him chattering in my ear.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Matt scratches his jaw, a rare serious expression taking over his face. “I hope you find her. She’s a good kid. Comes here a lot. Always orders the sweet potato fries.” He heads back inside, leaving me to stare at the mostly vacant lot.

“What are you thinking?” Clara’s arms are crossed over her chest as she assesses with me. Of all my officers, she’s the sharpest .

“Based on what Isla uncovered, Holly left here with her friends around nine to check out a house party on Maple Drive.” Which tracks with her being gone when I left. They probably took off after I yelled at them. “But they came back at midnight. Holly said she was meeting a guy here.”

“They say who?” Samir jumps in.

I shake my head. “Just that he was older, and she’d be in big trouble if anyone found out. They hung out back here for a while. There were a couple of young truckers parked overnight, and they started talking to them. They gave them alcohol and weed. The other girls headed home, but Holly said she was staying. They couldn’t get her to leave.”