Business was usually slow at the Stallion at four in the afternoon, and the stunning summer weather was keeping all but the staunchest regulars outdoors. Dennis Downes spotted Arnie Block and Dave Thorne chatting behind the bar as soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the tavern. Downes was in uniform and the bartenders stopped talking when he sat down.
"Hi, Sergeant," Block said. "The usual?"
"Not today, Arnie. Were you and Dave on duty last night?"
"Yeah. We were both here."
Downes took out a photo of Sandra Whiley that Marjorie Dooling had given him when he followed her back to the boardinghouse.
"Do you remember seeing this girl in here?"
Arnie studied the photo. "She looks familiar, but I don't know if she was here last night."
Thorne frowned. "It could be ... Yeah. Her hair was a little longer, but I'm sure.. ." He took the photo from "See that medallion around her neck? She was playing with it at the bar. It's definitely her."
"When was she in?"
"It had to be around eleven. In fact, I'm sure of it, because I remember seeing her leave shortly after the fight broke up."
"What fight?" Downes asked.
"Oh, it wasn't anything. Gary Harmon was yelling at a woman. Arnie calmed him down."
"What's with the girl?" Block asked.
"We're trying to trace her movements. She was murdered sometime after she left the Stallion."
"No shit!" Thorne said, looking more closely at the photograph. "Hey, she's not the girl they found by the wishing well?"
Block and brought it closer.
Downes nodded.
"Jesus. A couple of customers were talking about that earlier. We thought it might be the other one."
"What other one?"
"The woman Gary was hassling. I saw the sketch in the Clarion and it looked a little like her."
"What happened?"
"Do you know Gary?" Arnie asked.
Downes nodded.
"Then, you know he's a little slow, and he'd had one too many. He tried to hit on this girl. She shot him down and he didn't take it too well. He grabbed her by her tee shirt and yelled in her face."
Arnie shook his head.
"What kind of tee shirt?" Downes asked, remembering the way Whiley was dressed.
"Uh, a Whitaker State one. The one with the rearing horse on it."
"Was she wearing jeans?"
"I think so."
"And you thought Gary might have killed this girl?"
Downes asked. ' "Not really," Block said with a laugh to show how ridiculous the whole thing was. "Gary just gets excited sometimes and acts like a kid. I mean, he did threaten to kill her, but no one took him seriously."
Chapter NINE.
Dennis Downes was normally an easygoing guy, but the possibility of busting the only serial killer in the history of Whitaker County had him on edge. Seated next to Downes in the passenger seat of their patrol car was Bob Patrick, whom everyone called Pat. Pat was tall and thin with wiry muscles. His face was narrow and pock marked and his eyes were close-set, making him look scary and mean. Pat wore his hair long and greasy in an Elvis Presley, fifties' duck's-ass style that was a little intimidating because it was so weird. Everything about him screamed "tough cop," which was why Downes brought him along. Pat was as psyched up as his partner.
"Jesus, Dennis, I think you're definitely on to something here," he said, as Downes drove toward Gary Harmon's house. Following them was another patrol car with two more officers.
"It's got to be him," Downes responded confidently.
"I talked to Karen Nix at her dorm around six. She and Whiley aren't twins, but they're the same type. Blond, long hair, slender. And they were both wearing jeans and that Whitaker tee shirt with the horse.
, "The way I see it, Harmon has this fight with Nix. He stays mad like a little kid would and broods about the put-down. Then, he gets a weapon and waits outside the Stallion for her. The door opens, out walks a blonde.
Only it's the wrong one. He follows her, waits for his chance ..
"And kills her, just like he threatened."
"There's something else. A few weeks ago, Harmon was arrested for peeping a coed's room at the dorm."
"Hot damn."
They turned the corner and Gary's house came into view.
"We've got to be careful with this," Downes cautioned. "Everything by the book. Lots of "Please' and "Thank you." The bathroom, if he's got to pee. Coke, if he's thirsty."
"Gotcha," Patrick agreed with a knowing smile.
"With one exception."
"And that is?"
"The kid's gonna trust me," Downes said as he parked the car. "I got him out of that peeping scrape and treated him right. We can play on that, but I might need some help. That's why I brought along the meanest prick on the force."
Patrick's smile widened. He knew exactly what Downes wanted. They had played this game before.
It was seven-thirty and the living room lights were on in Gary's house. Downes could hear the mindless chatter of the TV set when he rang the bell.
A moment later, Gary opened the door. He was barefoot and wearing jeans and a Whitaker football team tee shirt. The presence of four policemen on his doorstep confused and frightened him.
"Hi, Gary, remember me?" Downes asked with a cheerful smile.
Gary's brow furrowed. Then, he remembered Sergeant Downes. He was the nice policeman who helped him the night he ... Gary's initial relief was replaced by anxiety as he recalled the humiliating circumstances of his arrest for peeping. Had the girl he spied on pressed charges? Were these men here to arrest him?
"What do -you want?" Gary asked warily.
"Hey, Gary, there's nothing to worry about. I'm here because I need your help. Can I come in?"
Gary hesitated for a moment, but he remembered the good manners Mom had taught him and stepped aside.
Downes led the other policemen inside.
"Nice place you got here," Downes commented.
"Thank you. Do you want to sit down?" he asked, acting just the way his mom told him he should act when company called.
"Sure," Downes said, lowering himself onto the sofa.
"Say, Gary, could we turn the TV off? It's a little loud."
Gary turned off the set and sat opposite the burly police officer. Gary noticed that none of theother policemen sat down. One stayed by the front door, one stood near the entrance to the hall and the officer with the greasy hair made Gary uncomfortable by moving out of Gary's line of vision and standing behind his armchair.
"Have you heard about the girl who was murdered in Wishing Well Park?" Downes asked.
Gary nodded. Downes took a snapshot of Sandra Whiley out of his breast pocket and handed it to Gary.
Whiley was standing on a lawn in front of the business school dressed in shorts and a tank top, acting silly. She was leaning slightly forward because the camera had caught her while she was laughing.
"She sure was pretty, don't you think?" Downes asked.
Gary nodded noncommittally, even though he did think the girl was pretty. After his problem at the Stallion and his arrest at the dorm, Gary was afraid of expressing too much interest in girls.
"We're talking to anyone who might have seen this woman last night. Did you see her?"
"I don't think so."
"Take another look. You were at the Stallion yesterday evening, weren't you?"
Gary's heart rate increased. They were here about that girl. The one he yelled at.
"Hey, Gary, relax. You look uptight," Downes said.
"No I ain't," Gary answered defensively.
"Well, that's good, then, because there's no reason for you to be worried. This is just a routine inquiry. Now, you were at the Stallion last night, weren't you?"