N Is for Noose

don't have a coffee break until closer to three."
    "I should get to the point, now you mention it," I said. I could feel a fib start to form. For me, it's the same sensation as a sneeze in the making, that wonderful reaction of the autonomic nervous system when something tickles my nose. "I was curious about some- thing." Please note, she didn't ask what. "Wasn't it you Tom Newquist was here to meet that night?"
    "Why would he do that?"
    "I have no idea. That's why I'm asking you," I said.
    She must have done some acting at one point; maybe high school, the senior play, not the lead. She made a show of frowning, then shook her head in bafflement. "I don't think so," she said, as though racking her brain.
    "I have to tell you, he made a note on his desk calendar. He wrote Barrett plain as day."
    "He did?"
    "I ran across it today, which is why I was asking earlier who he was here to meet. I was hoping you'd be honest, but you dropped the ball," I said. "I would have let it pass, but then the story was confirmed, so here I am. You want to tell me how it went?"
    "Confirmed?"
    "As in verified," I said.
    "Who confirmed it?"
    "Cecilia."
    "It wasn't anything," she said.
    "Well, great. Cough it up, in that case. I'd like to hear."
    "We just talked a few minutes and then he started feeling bad."
    "What'd you talk about?"
    "Just stuff. We were chatting about my dad. I mean, it was nothing in particular. Just idle conversation. Me and Brant used to go steady and he was asking about the breakup. He always felt bad that we didn't hang in together. I knew he was leading up to something, but I didn't know what. Then, he started feeling sick. I could see the color drain from his face and he started sweating. I was scared."
    "Did he say he was in pain?"
    She nodded, her voice wavering when she spoke. "He was clutching his chest and his breathing was all raspy. I said I'd go back to the motel and get some help and he said, fine, do that. He told me to lock the truck door and not mention our meeting to anyone. He was real emphatic about that, made me promise. Otherwise, I might have told you when you asked the first time." She fumbled in her uniform pocket and found a tissue. She swiped at her eyes and blew her nose.
    I waited until she was calmer before I went on. "Did he say anything else?"
    She took a deep breath. "Stay off the road if any cars came along. He didn't want anyone to know I'd been talking to him."
    "Why?"
    "He didn't want to put me in any danger, was what he said."
    "He didn't say from whom?"
    "He didn't mention anyone by name," she said.
    "What else?"
    "That's everything."
    "He didn't give you his notebook for safekeeping?"
    She shook her head mutely.
    "Are you sure?"
    "Positive."
    "I thought he gave you the little black book where he kept his field notes."
    "Well, he didn't."
    "Barrett, tell the truth. Please, please, please? Pretty please with sugar on it? Trust me, I won't say a word to anyone about your having it."
    "I'm telling you the truth."
    I shook my head. "I hate to contradict you, but Tom always kept it with him and yet nobody's seen it since he died."
    "So?"
    "So everybody's been assuming he was by himself that night. Now it turns out you were in his truck.
    Where else could it be? He was anxious to protect the notebook so he must have given it to you. That's the only way it adds up. If you can think of another explanation, I'd love to hear it."
    The silence was exquisite. I let it drag on a bit without breathing another word.
    "I went for help."
    "I'm sure you did," I said. "The CHP officer saw you on the road. What about the notebook?"
    Barrett looked out the window. "You don't have any proof," she said, faintly.
    "Well, yeah, I know. I mean, except for the fact that Cecilia saw you on the motel porch that night," I said. "She says your dad came and picked you up, which is what you said yourself. You just fudged a tiny bit about the sequence of events. I can't prove you have the notebook, but it stands to reason."
    Nancy poked her head out of the Rainbow's back door. Barrett opened the door and leaned out, calling, "I'll be right there!" Nancy nodded and waved.
    "So where's the notebook?"
    "In my purse," she said, glumly.
    "Could you give it to me?"
    "What's so important about the notes?"
    "He was investigating two murders so I'm assuming his notes are somehow relevant. Did you read them yourself?"
    "Well, yeah, but it's just a bunch of interviews and stuff. Lots of dates and abbreviations. It's no big