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Thirty-Seven

The Lucky Pub, Albuquerque, New Mexico

Friday, October 25th, 1:05 PM Mountain Standard Time

Paige pushed her plate aside, finished with the Cobb salad. She looked across at Brandon, who had finished a while before her. For a split second, she wanted to broach the personal, but she was smarter than to actually do so. She’d seen this side of him before—the moody edge, the hair-trigger, redheaded temper—and she wasn’t eager to provoke him. Instead, she stuck to business and filled him in on what else Jack had told her when he called about the murdered maid. “There was a woman watching Reid and his mistress the night before his murder. Apparently, she was someone from his past.”

“There’s a glimmer of a break in the case.”

“Yeah. We very well could be looking at a woman sniper,” she concluded.

The waitress cleared their plates and returned a few minutes later with their check. Paige glanced at the total and put her expense credit card in the sleeve, then identified herself and Brandon as FBI.

“We need to speak with the manager,” she said.

Penelope frowned. “Robert Wise? Right? That’s who you want to talk about.”

“That’s right. How did you know?”

“Well, given what happened to him…and you’re the FBI,” she stated soberly.

Paige nodded; the waitress’s deduction made sense. “Did you know him?”

“No, but I know what happened to him. I’ll go get the boss man.” She snatched the check holder off the table and left.

Not long later, a heavy man, wearing a half apron, was at their table. “I’ve told the cops everything I know.”

“We’re not the cops,” Paige retorted. “We’re federal agents.”

“As Penelope told me, but you’re really all the same.”

Paige chose to ignore that and went on with introductions. “I’m Special Agent Dawson, and this is Special Agent Fisher.”

“There’s nothing more I can tell you about Mr. Wise that I haven’t already said.” He wiped his hands on the apron.

“We told you our names. Yours would be…?”

“Drew Hart.”

“Well, Mr. Hart, do you recognize this person?” Paige picked up her phone and brought up one of the photographs sent to Wise’s widow, angling the screen so Drew could see it. This particular shot captured the woman’s face rather clearly, as she had her head tilted to the side, Wise’s face in her neck.

His gaze flicked up to Paige’s. “You’re showing me porn?”

“It’s not porn. Tell me, do you recognize her?”

He looked again. “Not sure.”

“But you think you’ve seen her before?” Paige pushed.

“Looks like a customer who came in here with Rob, but I haven’t seen her since he died.”

“Since he was murdered, you mean,” Paige said to stress the importance of this conversation. “We’re trying to find out who killed him, and this woman was…close to him.”

“Looks like.” Drew raised his brows at Brandon.

“Do you know her name?” Brandon asked.

“Sure. It’s Josefina Alvarez.”

Paige looked at Drew with disbelief and drew his eye.

“You said that Josefina would come in with Mr. Wise?” Paige said.

“That’s right.” Drew put his hands on his sides, the mannerism emphasizing his potbelly.

“But she hasn’t been in since his death…” Paige could imagine returning to where her lover had been killed wouldn’t be at the top of Josefina’s to-do list. “Did you happen to notice anyone else hanging around, another woman, perhaps, who might have been watching Mr. Wise and Ms. Alvarez?”

His face paled. “There was a woman. She came in a few times.”

A pattern may be starting to emerge, but had the mystery woman from Spencer’s shown up to watch Reid and Powell more than once? It would make sense that she’d stalked all her victims to know when and where to strike.

Drew continued. “I try to notice new faces. Like I saw yours when you came in. Anyway, customer service is too underrated, as far as I’m concerned, so I like to know as much as I can about my customers.”

It was probably why Wise liked coming here. It was Cheers of New Mexico.

“What was memorable about her?” Brandon asked.

“She was always watching Mr. Wise, and she was here the night before he was shot.”

The skin on the back of Paige’s neck tightened. “Did you mention her to the police?”

“I did, but they didn’t seem to care.”

Given the fact there wasn’t any mention of a mystery woman in Bell’s notes, Paige would agree that the sergeant hadn’t cared. “Did you get this woman’s name?” Paige was hopeful—but doubtful.

“My waitress might have.”

Paige perked up.

“Now, whether she’d remember it is another thing. But when I train my servers, I stress that they get customers’ names. People like being called by their names.”

Penelope must have missed that part of the training as she hadn’t asked hers and Brandon’s. “Could we speak with the server who would have tended to this woman?” she asked. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to find out who—”

“It would be Barbie. She takes care of the patio. Mr. Wise always sat out there, and that woman I mentioned did the last time she came here. Believe it was table ten. Tell Barbie that, and it might help jog her memory.” Drew went on his way.

Paige leaned across the table, talking in hushed tones. “Our killer was here, Brandon, just like she was at Spencer’s back in Arlington.”

“She’s wanting the men to know their day of judgment has arrived.”

“I think you’re right about that.”

“Hi-ya.” A twentysomething blonde stood at the edge of the table. She wore her hair in a high ponytail and was smiling. “Drew said you wanted to talk to me about a customer.”

“We do.” Paige introduced herself and Brandon. “And your name is?”

“Barbie Pendleton.”

“Ms. Pendle—”

“Oh, Barbie is fine.” She smiled wider, flashing a mouth of white teeth.

“Barbie,” Paige said, hating herself for saying the name, “you served a woman who was sitting at table ten on the patio, around six months ago, and she was apparently interested in Mr. Wise.” Paige provided her with a date.

Her face darkened, and she laid a hand over her heart. “Was that the night the poor man was shot?”

“The night before,” Paige set her straight. “Is there anything you can tell us about her? What she looked like?”

“She was pretty.” Her brow concentrated in thought. “A blonde with green eyes, if I remember right.”

The mystery woman from Spencer’s had been a blonde, too. “You’re sure?”

Barbie’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you interested in her?”

“We can’t say,” Paige said. “Open investigation.”

Barbie slid her bottom lip through her teeth and nodded.

“Did you happen to get her name?” Hopefully, Barbie’s training had stuck more than Penelope’s had.

“Oh my. If she did, I can’t remember now, but I would have asked— Oh, her name should be on the receipt. But ya know, she was here more than just once.”

“Mr. Hart told us that. A few times?” Brandon asked, stealing Barbie’s gaze.

“That’s right.” She brushed a cheek against a shoulder. “I thought maybe she was an ex of Mr. Wise.”

“Why?”

“She seemed obsessed with him. She’d watch him from a distance, and then that night—the one you’re asking about—she called ahead and booked table ten. It’s in plain view of where Mr. Wise normally sat.”

Brandon put his elbows on the table. “When did you see her last?”

“That night…the night before…” Barbie didn’t need to finish.

“Maybe if you could get us that receipt now?” Paige prompted.

“Sure, I’ll see what I can do.” She walked away with the swagger of a runway model, with the long legs and lean body to match, but the stereotype that the beautiful were somehow less intelligent was busted when it came to this Barbie. She was sharp and had an incredible memory.

“The sniper knew Wise’s routine, where to strike and when,” Brandon said thoughtfully. “We need to talk to Wise’s mistress, this Josefina Alvarez.”

“Agree.”

Barbie paraded back to the table, her ponytail swaying wildly behind her, and she was smiling. “I have a name for you. Estella.”

Paige reminded herself it was too soon to get excited. Now, if her name could be verified, possibly by credit card… “How did she settle up?”

“Cash.”

So much for tracking her down by credit card. Then again, it could have been another stolen number.

“That doesn’t help?” Barbie winced and looked from Paige to Brandon.

“Actually, you’ve been a big help. Thank you,” Paige said, though disappointed they didn’t have a payment trail to follow.

“What about video surveillance? Is there any on the patio or even inside?” Brandon asked.

“I can go ask Drew. I know we have cameras, but I don’t know if recorded footage from six months ago is still kicking around. Let me go check.” She bounced off again.

“Thanks,” Brandon called after her, then said to Paige, “We need to update Jack on what we’ve found here.”

“For sure.”

A few minutes passed before Barbie returned.

“Drew said we have video. Want to follow me?”

“Absolutely,” Paige replied, and she and Brandon quickly rose to follow Barbie through the kitchen doors.