The Fort (Aric Davis)

that she’s still alive. Can you imagine the state she must be in if she’s still alive and was taken by Riverside?”
    “No,” said Van Endel with a grimace. “I really can’t.”
    Once they were back in the station, which was running on a skeleton crew, thanks to the holiday, Van Endel headed for his desk and his long-abused chair. Dr. Martinez borrowed a neighboring chair from one of the other desks and sat next to him as he dialed Jefferson’s pager number. A few short moments later, Van Endel’s phone began ringing.
    “Van Endel.”
    “What do you need, Dick?” Chief Jefferson sounded as out of sorts as Van Endel had guessed he would. “Lanie and I got a room downtown to watch the fireworks out the window, and we’re expected in the lounge soon.”
    “We need to reopen the Molly Peterson investigation. We need to talk to old witnesses. I have a very strong feeling that the girl who was found behind the movie theater isn’t Molly. After talking to some sources downtown, I’ve got a hunch that Molly was one of two girls taken that night, most likely by our man who keeps dumping bodies at Riverside. I want to get your permission to apply for material-witness warrants for every teenager she was with that night, and I want to talk to those three boys they saw her as well.”
    There was silence from the other end of the phone, and finally, Jefferson spoke.
    “Dick, have you been drinking tonight? No offense, but this sounds like you had some sauce and got your noodle a little overdone. Not the end of the world if that’s the case, but if—”
    “Chief, I’m serious,” said Van Endel. “I really want to grill Molly’s pals and get them to break. I know they will. As for the boys, I need to hear what they saw. It could be vital to this case. It could mean the difference between that girl living or dying.”
    “Dick, I think we can have a talk about this on Monday, after the holiday weekend is over, but right now, it’s Saturday and my wife’s giving me a stink-eye. As for today, I’m going to stick with the assumption you gave me a couple of days ago. If you recall, both you and the coroner agreed that the girl was almost definitely Molly. Also, we do have an inquiry out on that situation, to try and figure out that whole mess with her teeth. As for bothering those kids and stirring up that sort of hornets’ nest? Are you out of your mind? We knew those boys were lying, and we still know it.
    “Let me guess how this all started. You and the doctor were out talking to that pack of whores-cum-witnesses, and after you either threatened them with arrest or rewarded them with money, they gave you information. Dick, you’re a good detective, but your cop-sense needs calibration. Get the ship righted, and we’ll talk about this in a couple of days, OK?”
    After a long moment of silence, Van Endel sighed. Jefferson was an ass-hat. “All right.”
    “There you go. I can hear it in your voice, Dick. You need to either start drinking if were dry or stop if you were already wetting your beak. Christ, we’ve already got the body; leave those people alone. Are we clear?”
    “Crystal,” said Van Endel, and hung up the phone.
    “What did he say?” Dr. Martinez asked, though it was obvious from her eyes that she knew.
    “He said that I need to let sleeping dogs lie.” He clapped his hand together and stood. “That means no material-witness warrants, and those teenagers are not going to break without them.”
    “So what are we going to do?”
    “We are going to go get a beer. I’m buying. After that, I’m going home, and first thing in the morning I’m going to find those boys and see if they feel like talking to someone who is ready to believe them.”
    “And apologize,” said Dr. Martinez. “You are someone willing to apologize and listen. Where are you buying me a beer? I’d prefer not the Shipwreck.”
    “Oakway it is.”
    “Fine,” she sighed. “Shipwreck, then. But the fact that you had the name of an even worse bar so handy is not a good thing, Detective.”

47
    Luke was alone in the fort. The Fourth of July fireworks had finally ground to a stop, and now all that was left to do was to wait for his friends to show up.
    Hooper. The name from the mailbox was stuck in his head like a piece of stringy beef between two molars. He was almost sure that he was familiar with the name in some local way, but he couldn’t come up with anything, and so the name stayed just a name,