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Forty-Six

Madison asked the server if they could speak somewhere quieter, and she led her and Terry to a table in a shadowed corner. Not exactly private, but the music was decibels lower here. The server sat down so she was looking out over the restaurant, and Madison took the chair on her right. Terry sat across from the woman.

“I’m Detective Madison Knight, and this is Detective Terry Grant. What’s your name?”

“Chloe Summers.”

Madison pulled out her phone and brought up the DMV picture of Chantelle Carson. “Did you see her in here two Fridays ago?”

Chloe bit her bottom lip and leaned over to get a better look at the screen. “Yeah, I did.”

“Do you remember if she met up with anyone that night?”

“No, she came alone, left alone. Probably why I remember her so clearly. Most people hook up with someone.”

“She didn’t?” Madison asked.

Chloe shook her head. “And she even looked sad, ya know? Not the right word really.” She screwed up her mouth. “Hardened. Yeah, that’s it. She stood out, too, because she was in her forties when most people in here on Friday are college age.”

“Okay,” Madison started. “But did she seem interested in anyone?”

“One regular, but all the ladies like him.” Chloe twisted a strand of her hair around a finger.

Apparently, the waitress was included in all the ladies.

Terry held his phone across the table, and Madison caught the image on the screen. Jake Elliott. “This the guy?”

“Hey, you know him?” Chloe’s smile quickly turned sour. “Why are you asking about Saul?”

So Elliott had also presented himself to the waitress using his alias. Curious that he tossed the name around so casually. He took a serious risk by doing so, but maybe he was too cocky to think he’d be found out. “What was your relationship with him?”

Chloe licked her lips, glanced away.

“Just a guess, but I’m thinking you know him rather well. You called him by his first name,” Madison added.

“As I said, he’s a regular, and showing personal interest in customers is a good way to get larger tips.”

Madison raised an eyebrow. “That’s all it was with Saul?”

Chloe looked away, tucked hair behind an ear this time, then put both elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I slept with him a few weeks ago. Just the one time.” She emphasized this with an erect index finger.

Madison sat up straighter and smiled tightly to bury the pain crackling through her. Maybe Chloe could give them something useful in finding him. Madison would play a little role first to relax Chloe. “Hey, he’s a good-looking man.”

“Oh yeah, and good in bed.” Chloe winked at her. “He has money, too, I think. He drives a silver Mercedes SUV. Don’t ask me the model, but they’re all pricey, aren’t they?”

“They’re not cheap,” Madison consented. But Elliott, a.k.a. Abbott, would have been flush with all the cash he’d defrauded from women over the years. “Did he take you back to his place?” Madison could only hope, but she wasn’t banking on it.

“My place, but why would you care?” Chloe pushed her back into the chair and crossed her arms. “And why are you interested in that woman and Saul? She the ol’ ball-and-chain or something?”

It would seem Chloe wouldn’t care if she were a homewrecker, which had Madison’s respect for the server disappearing. She bit back the urge to spit out, “Murder victim.” Instead, she said, “Her name was Chantelle Carson, and she was murdered after she was here two Friday nights ago.”

“Dear God.” Chloe’s eyes widened, and she glanced at Terry. “For real?”

“Afraid so,” Terry replied.

“Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

“So when did Saul show up that night?” Madison asked.

“Somewhere between nine and ten.”

Considering that Carson had arrived at eight o’clock, she may have come to talk to him but hadn’t arranged it beforehand, or she came early. She had been acting strange on the video. “And when did he leave?”

“Around twelve thirty or so? Not a hundred percent sure.”

He could have attacked Carson out back. She was stumbling to the street at quarter to one. “Did he leave alone?”

“Ah…” Chloe’s forehead bunched in thought. “I think so, yeah.”

“And which door did he use when he left?” Madison eyed a narrow hallway at the back of the pub.

“He used the one in the rear.”

Terry leaned forward. “When did you last see him?”

“Come to think of it, that night you’re asking about. He’s all right, isn’t he?” She scrunched up her brow. “You mentioned that lady was murdered. What does that have to do with—” She slapped a hand over her mouth, slowly lowered it.

Madison looked at her and stated calmly, “We both appreciate your cooperation, Ms. Summers, but we have a few more questions.”

Chloe nodded.

“You said that Saul was a regular,” Madison started. “How long has he been coming here?”

“For a few months now. Usually on Fridays and Saturdays.”

“And just to clarify, you slept with him when?” Madison recalled Chloe had said a few weeks ago, but the day of the week might prove useful.

“It was three Fridays ago. I got off early.”

The week before Carson’s murder. Madison squirreled that fact away and returned her mind to the regularity with which Abbott had come to the pub. Carson’s photos and documents testified that she had gathered intel on Elliott, and his coming here on a predictable schedule would have be helpful in tracking him down. Madison couldn’t recall a picture that was taken outside the pub, but that didn’t mean Carson hadn’t known about his habitual Friday night outing. “How often did the woman come here?”

“I only saw her that one time.”

Carson could have followed Elliott here in the past and just not entered the bar. “I see,” Madison said. “And how did Saul react to her staring at him?”

“Just ignored her, from what I could tell.”

That must have made Carson crazy with rage after what he’d done to her. “Did you see when she left?”

Chloe shook her head. “Honestly? I don’t know. I went to get a drink order for another table, and she was gone. A few quarters for my trouble on the table. And she stayed for a long time.” She rolled her eyes.

“When did you go to this other table? Just after Saul left?” Madison was trying to piece together if Carson had followed Saul out of the bar.

“That’s about right. Yeah.”

“And you’re certain you never saw the woman and Saul interact?” Terry asked.

“Nope. Doesn’t mean they didn’t. Just that I didn’t see it.” Chloe moved to stand. “I really should get back to work.”

“Just one more question,” Madison said. “Did Saul ever come here with a date?” She was curious if he brought his next marks to the pub.

“No. He always came alone. Usually he left with someone.” Chloe’s gaze went past Terry, and Madison followed the direction of it and realized the bartender was waving her over.

“Well, thanks for your help,” Madison said.

Chloe didn’t make a move to walk away. Instead, she locked eyes with Madison and said, “Do you really think Saul killed that woman?”

“We’re trying to figure that out,” Madison said.

“And trying to find him, I take it. Given all your questions.”

“We are,” Madison confirmed. “You don’t happen to have a way of reaching him, do you?”

“No. It was just a one-nighter. Not sure if this will help, but I heard him on the phone after we…ah.... He was in my bathroom, but it’s not exactly soundproof.”

“What did you hear?” Madison asked.

“He told the person he was talking to they needed to keep calm, not that he sounded calm. Panicked, maybe scared even.”

The conversation might not have anything to do with a perceived threat in reference in Carson, but it might. And if it did, were they to assume he had a partner? Carl Long or someone else?

Again, Chloe’s gaze snapped across the room to the bar. “I’m sorry, but I really need to get back to work.”

The server gone, Madison turned to Terry. “We need to find out who he was talking to.”

“I agree but have no idea how we’re going to do that.”

Madison considered the possibilities. “We need Elliott’s phone history.”

“Hard when you don’t have his number.”

“No, but we have Carson’s. You know, the ones you haven’t looked at yet.” She paused as Terry glared at her. “So we call the outgoing numbers that come up repeatedly and ask for Saul Abbott.”

“Sounds like a job for you.”

“Why me?”

“He has a thing for women.”

“Or you could do the calling and say you’re from Southern Life about a will. Tell him he stands to inherit, which he does if he didn’t kill her, so it’s not a lie.”

“Ah, sure.”

“Assuming one of the numbers she called ties back to him, we’ll get a subpoena to trace.”

“Sure. But consider that the ‘calm down’ comment might have had nothing to do with Carson.”

“Considered. And we need to find that Mercedes. Is it registered to him or someone else? Maybe even a woman he’s currently conning?”

“Any ideas how to find out?”

“Must I think of everything?”

“Why not?” He grinned.

Madison got up with care and stood to full height without her ribs hurting too badly. “Chloe also said that Elliott—or as she knew him, Saul Abbott—came here regularly for months, but hasn’t been in since Carson was murdered. Seems suspicious to me, like he’s hiding out.”

“Me too.”

She walked toward the back door, passing an entrance to the kitchen. She peeked in, and the staff was busy fulfilling orders, but she was looking for one man in particular and spotted him. It was the smoker from the back stoop they’d talked to last Saturday. He was pinching green garnish onto a plate of pasta. “Excuse me,” she called out. The other five people in the kitchen looked at her before the man did. When he saw her, he held up a finger to indicate a minute, then headed over.

“Detectives,” he said, wiping his hands on his apron and letting his gaze go from her to Terry, back to her. “What can I do for you?”

“You often take your smoke breaks out back?” she asked him.

“All the time.”

“On a set schedule?”

“Not necessarily.” He glanced back at the bustling staff and bellowed, “Stepping away for a minute!”

The three of them shimmied down the hall toward the back door but remained inside.

“You ever see this woman before?” Madison pulled out her phone and showed him a picture of Carson.

“A few times.”

That didn’t coincide with the server’s story. “Where? Inside the bar, out back?”

“Out back. Usually standing at the edge of the parking lot under the oak tree.”

Madison recalled the tree that hung over the lot at the back side. “But she never came in?”

The man smiled. “In the kitchen, remember?”

“Right.” Madison put her phone away. “Is there anything else you can tell us about her? Did she ever approach any of the pub’s customers maybe?”

“Not that I saw. When you were here… When was it?”

“Last Saturday,” Madison confirmed.

“You mentioned something had happened to a woman. That her?” He pointed in the general area of the pocket where she’d tucked her phone.

“Yes.”

“Well, I definitely know her, to see her anyway. She was often out back like she was waiting for someone, but she was twitchy. I assumed she was high and just left her alone because I didn’t want any trouble. She was hugging her purse to her chest and mumbling… She made me uneasy.”

“She could have been on her phone, using earphones,” Terry suggested.

“Possibly, but I don’t think so. She seemed to figure out I was watching her sometimes and would leave through the opening onto Napoleon Avenue.”

That was the street that ran north of Burnham behind the pub.

“She was in quite the hurry too. Almost like I spooked her.”

It would seem Carson had been hanging out back waiting on Elliott several times. Stalking him? Building up courage? Madison showed him the picture of Jake Elliott. “You ever see this man talking to her?”

He leaned in. “I recognize the guy, but I never saw them talk.”

This man had already told them last week he hadn’t witnessed any altercations in their lot, so no point going down that road again. They probably should question everyone on staff though, just in case someone saw something. But if Elliott was such a regular, maybe this guy got the plate on the Mercedes. “Did you ever see a silver Mercedes SUV parked in the lot?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you happen to notice a plate number?” The meat of her reason for asking him about the Mercedes.

He smiled and shook his head.

“Thought I’d try. But thank you for your help. What’s your name if we need to speak to you again?”

“Glenn Donnelly.”

Madison dipped her head in thanks and stepped outside with Terry.

“I’m almost starting to wonder if Carson intended to physically harm Elliott,” she said, feeling the truth of her instinct send chills through her. “Donnelly mentioned her mumbling and hugging her purse. Like in the video from the night she was murdered. Twitchy too? Sounds like she was up to no good. What if she didn’t plan to expose Elliott but to kill him? She could have pulled the knife on him, but she wound up the one on the blade’s stabbing end.”