What Sarah Saw. Margaret Daley
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never know. People could come from New Orleans. We’re not that far away,” he said with a chuckle.
Jocelyn opened her car door, gripping the top of it. “It depends on how fast you drive. Some can make it in forty-five minutes. Others at least an hour.”
“And which one are you?” A gleam danced in his eyes.
She slid into the driver’s seat, giving him a saucy grin, although somewhat forced because his look made her legs go weak. “I’m not telling. You’re part of law enforcement, and I don’t want a ticket. But let’s just say I don’t have a fast car for nothing.”
“I won’t tell.” His laughter spiced the air as he made his way to his sedan.
Jocelyn glanced at his retreating back, remembering the two of them together in the French Quarter, holding hands, then strolling on the Riverwalk that ran along the Mississippi River. She’d just started dating Sam, and their relationship was slowly moving from a business to a personal one. She wanted to know everything about him, but now looking back, she was the only one who talked about anything of substance. He was great at pulling information from her, but he never revealed much about his life before the FBI. She trusted him with her dreams and goals, and he betrayed it after that last case.
She started her car and took the lead back to Main Street, finding a parking space near the entrance. This dinner would be just a dinner. It was a means to an end, nothing more than a way to help Sam solve the case so he could leave.
Her resolve fortified, Jocelyn hurried toward the front where Sam waited for her. He opened the door and allowed her to go first into the restaurant. Scanning the dimly lit, intimate surroundings before her, she slowed her pace.
What would he say if I turned around and left? Why didn’t I realize this place wouldn’t be appropriate for a strictly professional relationship? Because I wasn’t thinking, that’s why. Sam does that to me.
Reluctantly, she continued to follow the maître d’ to a table set with a snow-white linen cloth, crystal stemware, gold flatware and fine china with a beige-and-ivory pattern. A glittering gold candle on a glass pedestal sat in the center, sending off alarm bells and a flurry of memories of past dinners in quaint, out-of-the-way restaurants in New Orleans.
“I can’t stay long. I need to call Clint,” she said as she took the ivory-padded chair the maître d’ pulled out.
Sam didn’t reply until after the waiter in a black tuxedo recited the specials and wrote down their order. “I want you to work with Sarah to find out if she witnessed anything. Something doesn’t feel right here. I had Evelyn Nelson, one of the agents I brought with me, look over the report on Earl’s death. She called me on the way here.”
“Did he commit suicide?”
“Forensics suggest it’s not likely from the angle of the shot, but possible. The sheriff is content to let it stand as a suicide. It was Earl’s gun, and his fingerprints were the only ones on it. Personally I don’t think the man wants to deal with something messy like a murder.”
“Sheriff Reed is a good old boy, nearing retirement and ready to spend his days fishing and collecting his pension.”
“Yeah, I kinda got that feeling.”
Sam’s smile melted some of her apprehension. “Did y’all find anything out of place in the apartment or pawnshop?”
“No, everything was neat and tidy. Nothing looked gone. No clothes were missing that we can tell.”
“Just as I said. Leah was expecting to come back home. She didn’t flee.” Her stomach muscles clenched. Her hand holding the water goblet trembled as she lifted it toward her mouth. Leah could be lying dead or hurt somewhere. “It would be easy to get rid of a body in the swampland around Loomis.”
“So you don’t think this is a kidnapping?”
“No. Why would someone kidnap her? The Farleys didn’t have much money. What could someone have against Leah or Earl that would be worth harming them?”
“That’s a good question. One of the things that’s bothered me about this whole affair is the whereabouts of Leah’s car. That points to her leaving, since it hasn’t been found.”
“What if someone either killed or kidnapped her and didn’t want the car to be found?” Jocelyn hated thinking Leah was kidnapped or dead, but the alternative wasn’t great, either. Leah wouldn’t have abandoned her daughter.
“True.” He shook his napkin out and laid it in his lap. “We’ll stay around a few days and see what we can come up with. If nothing materializes, we’ll call this a local issue and turn it back over to the sheriff.”
She forced a shaky laugh from her lips. “He’s not equipped to handle something like this. That’s probably why the mayor called y’all.”
“Then the state can take over.”
Jocelyn leaned toward Sam. “Then Leah may never be found. If she’s dead, the family needs to know that, and if by some chance someone has kidnapped her for some unknown reason, then you’re the one to find her.” Part of her wanted to snatch back her words, but the other part knew Sam and his team were the best prospect of bringing Leah home—dead or alive.
“Let me see what I can come up with,” he said in a low voice as the space between them shrunk even more.
When Jocelyn caught a whiff of his lime-scented aftershave, she quickly sat back. “Have you told the sheriff that Earl was probably murdered?”
“He knows I have my doubts about it being a suicide. When we finish, I’m going to the station to review Evelyn’s notes and the photos of the scene. If it’s murder, that changes things. It raises the questions of who killed Earl and why. The prime suspect will be Leah, and with her disappearance, people will say that she ran away to avoid capture.”
“Then they don’t know her very well. That isn’t Leah. She’ll do anything for her daughter.”
“Even kill?”
“As I told you earlier, she didn’t kill Earl. My friend hasn’t changed over the years I was gone. Granted I’ve only been back nine months, but I’ve learned to read people pretty accurately. I have to in my profession.” Then why did I let myself get hurt by Sam? Maybe reading others accurately is only possible when my heart isn’t involved.
The waiter set their salads before them. “Do you need anything else?”
While she shook her head, Sam said, “No.” The second the man left, he continued. “What do you think about Sarah being so upset by her doll? Could there be a connection with all that’s happened?”
“That’s definitely a possibility. I’ve seen Sarah play with that doll a lot, and she’s never done anything like that before. In fact, once she told me it was her favorite. It’s almost exactly like the other one she was playing with except it has red hair. The other is blond.”
“So the red hair scared her?”
“Maybe. It could be a lot of things.”
“The only thing different I saw is the color of the doll’s hair. That’s got to be something. We don’t have much else to go on with Leah’s disappearance.”
She sighed. “I guess it could be something. Her reaction was more than just deciding suddenly she didn’t like the doll. She went pale, and it dropped from her hand.” Averting her gaze, Jocelyn stared at the front of the restaurant and noticed how dark it had become outside. “But it might not have anything to do with what’s going on. Maybe it’s suddenly hitting Sarah what happened to her father. With her mother gone now, too, she’s got to be confused. They were so close.”
“I need to start somewhere, so will you try and work with Sarah?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll