North Country(60)

“There’s that name again.” Terry pokes his notepad with the end of his pen in thought.

“Logan was at the Bale House with his family on Friday night. He went to use the washroom and Holly followed closely after.” I provide a brief rundown of the encounter I witnessed. “Honestly, the last thing Logan wants to do is get tangled up with a fifteen-year-old girl.”

“She doesn’t look fifteen.” Terry taps a photograph her mother gave us. “And he’s a guy who’s spent how long behind bars with nothing but—” He makes a jerking-off motion. “Think your gut’s wrong on that one, McAllister.”

“Staff Sergeant,” Mike barks before I have a chance to say anything.

I have no time for pissing contests over rank. “Logan left around nine, well before his probation curfew. His cousin Jack drove him home.”

“Doesn’t mean he couldn’t break that curfew and drive back,” Terry counters. “A convict with a hard-on? Wouldn’t be the first time. ”

My stomach clenches. Oh, he had one of those all right, but it wasn’t for anyone but me.

Terry jots down Logan Landry followed by an asterisk on his stupid fucking notepad.

“So, you know this Logan well, then? That’s the impression I’m getting,” Schmidt asks more cordially.

“I know his family. I live next door to them. But Logan’s been gone for twenty years. Who he is, I don’t know anymore.” The words coming out of my mouth feel like sand on my tongue—gritty and unwelcome. It’s a lie and a betrayal. The Logan I knew is still in there. I just don’t know what other version of him exists now too.

“We definitely need to talk to him,” Terry declares.

I hum in agreement, even as my pulse races. I don’t care that Terry wrote witness at the top of his sheet. He’s already building his list of potential suspects, and he’s put Logan on it, which means he’s going to go digging for an alibi.

I know Logan had nothing to do with Holly’s disappearance because I was with him all night. But when Terry shows up there and starts poking around …

I swallow against my rising panic. “Of course you do, but make it clear that he’s not a suspect.”

“That’s for us to decide, Staff Sergeant McAllister.”

“Watch your fucking tone,” Mike finally snaps. He’s hungry and tired, and he’s had enough of this prick investigator who we both outrank and who clearly didn’t get moved to CIB for his winning personality or ability to work well with others.

If we weren’t in a race to find Holly, I’d try getting Terry replaced, but I don’t have time for games. “Mike, you’ve already put in a lot of extra hours. Get some rest.” The man hasn’t slept since we rallied the detachment yesterday, and he isn’t quarterbacking this case.

“Not as many as you,” Mike counters.

I know why he’s reluctant to leave. His daughter Ashley is twelve. “Go home. See your family. You’re on day shift tomorrow, and you need to be at one hundred percent.”

With a pause and then a nod, Mike abandons his chair and ducks out.

“Your guys need to go through that video again and ID everyone who left that bar between midnight and 2:30 a.m.” Terry stabs at the table surface with his index finger. “Someone in there must have seen something.”

I level the detective constable with an even stare. Is this guy for real? “Justin’s been working since yesterday afternoon.” I found him passed out on the staff room couch this morning when I came in, and when he heard me, he rolled off the cushions and was back at it. “You have him on this for another hour and then he’s going home to his family. He needs to step away, or he’s liable to miss things. He and Nick will be back tomorrow morning to continue. Or you can review the video yourselves.” These two have their salaries paid for by the region. They can work around the clock as far as I’m concerned.

But I see where this is going, and I need to nip it in the bud. “My officers cover over thirteen thousand square kilometers of ground, which includes dense forest, rivers, provincial parks, and several First Nations reservations that we support. They work hard, and they’ve all given up their weekend to pitch in for Holly.

“But Cold River is a small and understaffed detachment, with a limited budget to work with.” I’ve probably blown what little I had left for this year on overtime. Jim will update me about that tomorrow. “You may be running this investigation, but this is my detachment, and it’s not at your disposal.” I aim this at Terry because he’s the exact type of douchebag to try to delegate work he should be doing. “Under no circumstances are you to pull my on-duties off the road to aid your investigation. Am I clear?”

“Understood, Staff Sergeant. You need minimum coverage at all times.” Schmidt nods. He at least has a modicum of respect.

Terry, on the other hand, offers a sloppy salute.

I check my watch. “When do you plan on stopping by the Landrys?”

“Missing girls don’t wait for turkey dinners.”

“No, they don’t.” At least he’s not lazy. “Do me a favor and scan Logan’s file before you question him. I think it’ll be educational for you, Detective.”

“Why? He’s just a witness, right?”