All That Remains - Cornwell Patricia (читать хорошую книгу полностью TXT) 📗

"Did they say anything else to you, other than needing to find a rest room?"

"We talked while I was ringing them up," Ellen replied. "Nothing special. I said the usual. 'Nice night for driving; and 'Where ya headin'?' " "And did they tell you?"

Abby asked, taking notes.

"Huh?"

Abby glanced up at her. "Did they tell you where they were heading?"

"They said the beach. I remember that because I told 'em they was lucky. Seems whenever everybody else's heading off to fun places, I'm always stuck right here.

"Plus, me and my boyfriend had just broke up. It was getting to me, you know?"

"I understand."

Abby smiled kindly. "Tell me more about how they were acting, Ellen. Anything jump out at you?"

She thought about this, then said, "Uh-uh. They was real nice, but in a hurry. I guess because she wanted to find a bathroom pretty bad. Mostly I remember how polite they was. You know, people come in here all the time wanting to use the bathroom and get nasty when I tell 'em they can't."

"You mentioned you directed them to the rest stop," Abby said. "Do you remember exactly what you told them?"

"Sure. I told 'em there's one not too far from here. Just get back on Sixty-four East" - she pointed - "and they'd see it in about five, ten minutes, couldn't miss it."

"Was anybody else in here when you told them this?"

"People were in and out. Lot of folks on the road."

She thought for a minute. "I know there was a kid in back playing PacMan. Same little creep always in here."

"Anybody else who might have been near the counter when the couple was?" Abby asked.

"There was this man. He came in right after the couple came in. Was looking through the magazines, ended up buying a cup of coffee."

"Was this while you were talking to the couple?"

Abby relentlessly pursued the details.

"Yeah. I remember because he was real friendly and said something to the guy about the Jeep being a nice one. The couple drove up in a red Jeep. One of those fancy kinds. It was parked right in front of the doors."

"Then what happened?"

Ellen sat down on the stool in front of the cash register. "Well, that was pretty much it. Some other customers came in. The guy with the coffee left, and then maybe five minutes later, the couple left, too."

"But the man with the coffee - he was still near the counter when you were directing the couple to the rest stop?"

Abby wanted to know.

She frowned. "It's hard to remember. But I think he was looking through the magazines when I was telling them that. Then it seems like the girl went off down one of the aisles to find what she needed, got back to the counter just as the man was paying for his coffee."

"You said the couple left maybe five minutes after the man did," Abby went on. "What were they doing?"

"Well, it took a couple minutes," she replied. "The girl set a six-pack of Coors on the counter, you know, and I had to card her, saw she was under twenty-one, so I couldn't sell her beer. She was real nice about it, sort of laughed. I mean, all of us were laughing about it. I don't take it personal. Hell, 1 used to try it, too. Anyway, she ended up buying a six-pack of sodas. Then they left."

"Can you describe this man, the one who bought the coffee?"

"Not real good."

"White or black?"

"White. Seems like he was dark. Black hair, maybe brown. Maybe in his late twenties, early thirties."

"Tall, short, fat, thin?"

Ellen stared off toward the back of the store. "Medium height, maybe. Sort of well built but not big, I think."

"Beard or mustache?"

"Don't think so… Wait a minute."

Her face lit up. "His hair was short. Yeah! In fact, I remember it passed through my mind he looked military. You know, there's a lot of military types around here, come in all the time on their way to Tidewater."

"What else made you think he might be military?"

Abby asked.

"I don't know. But maybe it was just his way. It's hard to explain, but when you've seen enough military guys, it gets to where you can pick 'em out. There's just something about 'em. Like tattoos, for example. A lot of 'em have tattoos."

"Did this man have a tattoo?"

Her frown turned to disappointment. "I didn't notice."

"How about the way he was dressed?"

"Uhhhh…"

"A suit and tie?"

Abby asked.

"Well, he wasn't in a suit and tie. Nothing fancy. Maybe jeans or dark pants. He might've been wearing a zip-up jacket.… Gee, I really can't be sure."

"Do you, by chance, remember what he was driving?"

"No," she said with certainty. "I never saw his car. He must've parked off to the side."

"Did you tell the police all this when they came to talk to you, Ellen?"

"Yeah."

She was eyeing the parking lot out front. A van had just pulled up. "I told 'em pretty much the same things I told you. Except for some of the stuff I couldn't remember then."

When two teenage boys sauntered in and headed straight for the video games, Ellen returned her attention to us. I could tell she had nothing more to say and was beginning to entertain doubts about having said too much.

Apparently, Abby was getting the same message. "Thank you, Ellen," she said, backing away from the counter. "The story will run on Saturday or Sunday. Be sure you watch for it."

Then we were out the door.

"Time to get the hell out of here before she starts screaming that everything was off the record."

"I doubt she'd even know what the term meant," I replied.

"What surprises me," Abby said, "is that the cops didn't tell her to keep her mouth shut."

"Maybe they did but she couldn't resist the possibility of seeing her name in print."

The I-64 East rest stop where the clerk had directed Deborah and Fred was completely deserted when we pulled in.

Abby parked in front, near a cluster of newspaper vending machines, and for several minutes we sat in silence. A small holly tree directly in front of us was silver in the car's headlights, and lamps were smudges of white in the fog. I couldn't imagine getting out to use the rest room were I alone.

"Creepy," Abby muttered under her breath. "God. I wonder if it's always this deserted on a Tuesday night, or if the news releases have scared people away."

"Possibly both," I replied. "But you can be sure it wasn't deserted the Friday night Deborah and Fred pulled in."

"They may have been parked right about where we are," she mused. "Probably people all over the place, since it was the beginning of the Labor Day weekend. If this is where they encountered someone bad, then he must be a brash son of a bitch."

"If there were people all over the place," I said, "then there would have been cars all over the place."

"Meaning?"

She lit a cigarette.

"Assuming this is where Deborah and Fred encountered someone, and assuming that for some reason they let him in the Jeep, then what about his car? Did he arrive here on foot?"

"Not likely," she replied.

"If he drove in," I went on, "and left his car parked out here, that wasn't going to work very well unless there was a lot of traffic."

"I see what you're suggesting. If his was the only car in this lot, and it remained out here for hours late at night, chances are a trooper might have spotted it and called it in."

"That's a big chance to take if you're in the process of committing a crime," I added.

She thought for a moment. "You know, what bothers me is that the entire scenario is random but not random. Deborah and Fred's stopping at the rest stop was random. If they happened to encounter someone bad here - or even inside the 7-Eleven, such as the guy buying coffee - that seems random. But there's premeditation, too. Forethought. If someone abducted them, it seems like he knew what he was doing."