Page 89 of What She Saw
CJ Taggart
Wednesday, May 25, 1994, 9:00 a.m.
4 Days After
Taggart swung by the diner to grab his morning coffee. He glanced toward the counter, half hoping to see Patty. But Buddy was behind the counter topping off coffee for a customer. His smile looked strained. Another customer asked for a refill and another for a menu. Buddy clearly felt Patty’s absence.
Taggart spotted the mayor in a booth in the back. He wasn’t front and center or shaking hands but lying low. More complaints and questions about the festival were snowballing, and Taggart knew Briggs must be feeling the pressure. When the weekend hangover passed, folks realized the festival might have created as many problems as it had promised to solve.
Taggart crossed to the mayor’s booth. “Mind if I sit down?”
Mayor Briggs nodded. “If you’ve got good news.”
Taggart sat. Buddy caught his gaze and then set a mug in front of him. He filled the cup. “Thanks, Buddy. Any word from Patty?”
“Not a word.” His brow furrowed. “I stopped by her trailer this morning. Sara was there with the baby, but no Patty.”
“Any idea where she went?”
“None. And I’ve called everyone I can think of.”
Taggart thought about the folded blankets in the baby’s crib. “She the kind of woman to leave her baby behind?”
“No. Not Patty,” Buddy conceded. “She’s crazy about that kid.”
Taggart sipped his coffee. “Is she seeing anyone other than you?”
Buddy glanced at Briggs. “No.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Sheriff, tell me when you find her,” Buddy said.
“Will do.”
As Buddy moved to another table, Taggart sat in silence, not bothering a glance toward the mayor. He’d never been good at sucking up to the brass, and civilian life had not changed that.
“Maybe Patty did run off,” Mayor Briggs said.
“Along with Laurie Carr and Debra Jackson? I have three missing person reports on my desk now.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Debra?”
“I’m doing that now.”
“I don’t know Laurie, but Debra doesn’t have the best homelife.” The mayor drummed his fingers against the side of his mug as if flipping through a card catalog of excuses.
“I hear Debra is doing well on her own. And Laurie’s aunt said she always checks in.”
“Three single women. Maybe they’re partying together.” The mayor grunted. “This isn’t a five-alarm fire.”
The mayor’s easy dismissal of the women irritated him. “It’s a pattern I don’t like.”
The mayor pushed his half-eaten plate of food away. “Don’t get over your skis, Sheriff. There were thousands of people at the event. And the fact that three are missing doesn’t mean much yet. They’ll turn up. Just you wait and see.”
“And if they don’t?”
“From what Colton told me yesterday, the festival brought in a lot of money. Dawson’s going to see a big check. And he said the music reviews in the papers were good. He said it’s a matter of time before other music festivals are looking at us. This is going to be big for Dawson.”
