Page 68 of The Hanging Dolls
For a moment, Zoe’s mind went blank. “Nancy?”
“Yes, I know it’s unusual for me to call but… I’m concerned about Simon. He hasn’t been sleeping or eating or talking…”
“It must be Bruce’s death,” she replied, suddenly realizing who Nancy was. “He’s been distraught over it.”
There was a moment of silence but Zoe could feel the tension radiating through the phone. Her hands gripped the wheel.
“Right.” Nancy’s voice turned sharp and defensive. “Thanks, Zoe.”
Before Zoe could reply, Nancy hung up. Her cheeks flamed—had Simon not told Nancy about Bruce?
She pushed the thought aside. The morning was still gray and damp, the sun barely breaking through the cloud cover, casting everything in a dull, washed-out light.
Zoe spotted Sam Buster before she even reached the bar. He was leaning against the wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He was big, bald, and had the kind of sneer that made Zoe’s skin crawl. The kind of man who reveled in making others feel uncomfortable.
Zoe approached cautiously, her footsteps muffled by the damp pavement. “Sam Buster?”
He looked up, his eyes narrowing as he took her in. “Who’s asking?” he muttered, his voice rough and gravelly.
“Zoe Storm from the FBI. I’m here to ask you a few questions about the other day. You were seen outside Carly’s house, making a scene.”
Sam snorted, a cruel grin spreading across his face. “That little tease? Yeah, I was there. Had a few things to say to her. She deserved it. Let me guess? Bitch cried rape.”
Zoe’s stomach churned. “And what exactly were you so upset about?”
His grin widened, and he took a long drag on his cigarette before answering. “She owesme, that’s what. Told me she’d do more than just talk, if you know what I mean. I paid for more than what I got, and she backed out. Didn’t like that, so I let her know.”
Zoe’s jaw tightened, but she forced herself to stay calm. “How long have you known her?”
“About two years.”
“You know Lucy, her daughter?” She watched his reaction closely. A sick smile spread on his ruddy face.
“Yeah, I know her. Sassy like her mother.” He took a puff and his eyes shone behind the smoke with a revolting glint. “Wonder if she’ll look as hot as her mom when she grows up.”
Zoe’s blood frothed as searing disgust slashed through her. She picked up a stray brick lying on the ground and dropped it on his foot.
“Ah!” His body folded in half, the cigarette falling out of his grasp as he held his foot. “You bitch! You little?—!”
Zoe twisted the collar of his jacket harshly and pulled his face closer. She ignored his rancid breath in her face, relishing the sight of his red face and watery eyes, as he writhed in pain. “Let me be blunt. I’m an FBI agent and you’re a loser who has to pay women to get laid. Now tell me, without being gross, when was the last time you saw Lucy?”
“A few days ago!”
“And where were you yesterday evening?”
Sam didn’t reply right away, locking his jaw in protest. His ego was too inflated so she twisted his ear, bending his body at an angle.
“At a job interview, if you must know. Got a job down at the scrapyard. You can check, but they’ll tell you the same. Today’s my last day here.”
“Don’t leave town.”
Sam watched her, his sneer never fading. “Why you so interested, huh? You Carly’s new watchdog?”
Lucy’s disappearance was still under wraps. Harborwood PD was on the lookout, bordering patrols, and looping in the rangers and WSP but the media was still in the dark. Zoe wondered how long that was going to last.
Zoe ignored the jab, letting go of his ear. “Just doing my job. I’ll be back if I find out you’re lying.”
She turned on her heel, eager to put some distance between herself and Sam Buster. He was still on the ground, nursing his foot. Maybe he had a hairline fracture. But she didn’t care. The creepy smile that had crossed his face when talking about Lucy told her everything she needed to know.
