A Beautiful Corpse

She needed him to talk quickly before he passed out.

‘What can you tell me about Naomi?’ she asked. ‘What was she really like?’

‘Oh, everyone who knew her will tell you she was a great kid.’ He stared into his glass. ‘And it’s true. Hard worker. Smart as hell. Always smiling. People came in here just to see her smile, I swear. And ambitious as hell. I thought she’d be president someday.’ He looked at her helplessly. ‘Who would do this to her? Can you tell me that much at least?’

He seemed genuinely grief-stricken.

To an extent, this fit with what Harper knew of him. She didn’t encounter Fitz often – he didn’t tend to hang around on the late shift, and she rarely arrived at the bar before one in the morning. But Bonnie always described him affectionately.

‘Fitz is everyone’s dad,’ she’d told Harper once. ‘He worries about me more than my own father does.’

Still, Naomi had only worked at the bar a few months. Harper was a little surprised at the intensity of his reaction.

‘Were you close to Naomi?’ she asked. ‘Did you know her family well?’

‘I met her dad a few times when he came to pick her up.’ He reached for his glass. ‘Can’t say I know him particularly well. But he’s a good man.’ He took a long drink, the ice rattling in his glass, before adding, morosely, ‘This’ll kill him.’

‘I know the police are on this,’ she told him. ‘They want to get this guy.’

‘They better get him.’

Reaching across the counter he swiped up a bottle from the other side and poured himself an unhealthy measure.

‘Can you tell me anything else about her?’ she asked.

He waved his glass.

‘Her mom passed a few years ago. Her dad’s a cab driver.’ He’d begun to slur his words. ‘She was an only child – she and her father were very close.’

He slapped his hand hard on the bar. ‘Dammit. This doesn’t make sense. I keep thinking someone will come in here and tell me it was a mistake. For a minute, that’s what I thought you were here for.’

‘What about her boyfriend?’ Harper asked. ‘Wilson Shepherd, isn’t that his name?’

‘Wilson?’ His gaze sharpened. ‘What about him?’

‘How long had they been together?’

‘A year maybe?’ He rubbed his face, his hand rasping across his unshaven jaw. ‘Poor old Wilson.’

‘The police think he did it,’ she told him, watching for his reaction.

‘What?’ His head jerked up, eyes wide in a drunken pantomime of shock. ‘You can’t be serious.’

‘They’re looking for him now.’

‘Then they’re nuts.’ He was angry. ‘No way. They were crazy in love. He wouldn’t hurt Naomi.’

But the first hint of uncertainty had entered his voice. They both knew crazy in love people hurt each other all the time.

‘Did they ever fight?’ Harper asked. ‘Fall out over anything?’

‘Hell, I don’t know.’ He held up his hands. ‘I’m not the one she’d talk to about that. But she seemed happy with him. Except –’

He paused, thinking.

‘Except what?’ Harper pressed him.

But he wouldn’t be hurried. He gripped the glass tight, and rattled it, lost in his thoughts.

‘It’s probably nothing, but I’ve been going over it all in my head – trying to think of anything – something I should have noticed,’ he said, peering at her. ‘Only thing I can think of was something that happened a couple weeks ago. Struck me as strange. Seemed like nothing at the time, but now …’

‘What happened?’ she asked.

‘It was a busy night. A Saturday. Naomi was helping Bonnie at the bar. Everything was fine, and then out of nowhere she came over to me and said she had to go right now. I wouldn’t have noticed, but she seemed real upset.’

Harper’s brow creased. ‘Did she tell you what happened?’

‘Sort of. We were packed. It was midnight. I mean, where could she have to go at midnight? I asked if she could at least stay half an hour. And she begged me – literally begged me. “Let me go, Fitz. I have to.” In the end, I gave in. Couldn’t stand to see her so upset. She was shaking. It was like she was scared or something. She ran out the door like the devil was on her tail. Didn’t even stop to take her apron off.’

‘Did you ever find out what she was scared of?’ she asked.

The lines in his craggy face deepened.

‘She was off the next three days. By the time she came back to work, I had other things on my mind.’ He looked at her. ‘You know how it is. You lose track.’

‘But after that she was fine?’

He made a vague gesture. ‘She seemed fine. Maybe a little more distracted than usual. But I figured it was school keeping her busy.’

Harper thought it over. ‘Are you saying that you think she was scared of Wilson?’

He glowered at her.

‘I’m saying I don’t know what happened but she was scared.’ He reached for his glass again. ‘Ah, hell. Why’m I yelling at you? It’s my own damn fault. If I’d thought to ask what was going on – why she was so scared that night – what was going on in her life … If I’d paid more attention …

‘She might still be alive.’

Chapter Five (#ucac769f1-70d8-584b-aa80-2eb53a110df6)

After talking with Fitz, Harper went back to the newsroom to update her article and work the phones. The story moved quickly. At noon, the police formally identified Wilson Shepherd as a suspect on the run.

At a hastily convened press conference that afternoon, the police chief described him as ‘armed and dangerous’. In a message delivered directly to the news cameras, the chief asked Wilson to turn himself in.

‘Do it for your family,’ the chief said seriously. ‘Nobody else needs to get hurt.’

With the TV stations all in overdrive, several false reports came in of sightings around the city, but by eight o’clock that night, when things finally quieted down, his location remained unknown.

It was still four hours until the paper’s final deadline, but Harper had done all she could for now. She’d worked eleven hours straight on precious little sleep, and the exhaustion was taking its toll.