Page 73 of Little Girl Vanished

“You don’t remember what I got this afternoon.”

“Try me,” he scoffed, then headed down to the draft taps.

Asshole. I could read the labels on the taps, and sure enough, he was getting my order from hours before.

I didn’t see a point in making him bring it all the way down to me, so I walked over to that section and sat on an empty stool.

He lifted his gaze, still filling the glass. “Make any progress on our mutual interest after you left?”

“Maybe,” I said, glancing around the room. A rough-looking crowd was gathered around the pool tables again, but there were a fair number of more upstanding citizen types hanging around too.

Leaning closer, I whispered, “Know anything about a janitor at the elementary school? Eddie Johnson?”

His face went rigid. “He’s a regular here. What about him?”

That was an interesting reaction. I doubted he’d be so concerned about any old regular. Did Eddie Johnson have ties to James Malcolm? “I was hoping to talk to him this afternoon, but by the time I got to the school, it was locked up tight.”

He placed the glass on the bar in front of him. “Why do you want to talk to him?”

I sure as hell wasn’t telling him everything. “His name came up in an interview I had today. I need to ask him what he knows about Ava Peterman.”

His jaw ticked. “He doesn’t know anything. Leave him alone.”

Now my interest was fully piqued. Seemed to me, Malcolm would only care if this Eddie worked for him in some way. Maybe Malcolm had Eddie keeping tabs on Ava, getting information and feeding it back to him.

Which would put him high up on the suspect list.

There was obviously no way in hell I was leaving it alone now, and the way his face tensed told me he knew it.

I tilted my head. “Why would I leave him alone when he possibly has information?”

“Because he didn’t have anything to do with it,” he grunted, fury building in his eyes.

“Forgive me if I’m not going to just take your word for it.”

He leaned closer, radiating ominous energy. “If you make trouble for that boy, I’ll…”

I arched a brow. “You’ll what, Mr. Malcolm?”

He took a breath, regaining control, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. “The boy’s had a hard life and things have finally turned around for ’im. Don’t you fuck it up.”

That was the last thing I’d expected him to say. “I only want to ask him questions.”

“About a missin’ kid. How many other people have you told about your interest in Eddie?”

“None,” I said with plenty of self-righteousness, but I felt a niggle of guilt for not telling him that Millie LaRue planned to go to the principal about him first thing in the morning.

Malcolm released a grunt and shook his head. He didn’t believe me, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

“You want it on a tab?” he asked, sliding the glass toward me.

“Please.”

I picked up the glass and headed back to the table. All three of my party watched me as I made my way back. After I sat down, their gazes were still on me, expectant.

“What?” I asked, then took a long drag of my beer. Damn Malcolm. I’d really needed that Jack and Coke.

“What do you mean, what?” Louise said, incredulous. “We saw you having a conversation with Malcolm.”