“Noelle didn’t like the owner over at Jaguar’s. Had heard some bad things about him. Harry Minkley’s his name.”
Yeah, Andrea already knew Harry’s name. And she was glad Noelle had the good sense not to work for him. Although in the long run, it hadn’t helped her.
“Noelle came in here a lot?” Brandon leaned one arm against the bar so he had a better view of the whole place.
“Mostly during the week in the afternoons. Weekends were pretty busy for her, as were a lot of evenings. She hung out with those guys over there. The tall, skinny one’s named Corey. Big one next to him is Luke and the other is Jarrod.” He pointed back to where the three guys were playing pool. “They knew her better than me.”
Brandon and Andrea both turned toward the men. “Thanks for your help,” she said over her shoulder.
“Thank you for trying to find the killer.” Phil turned back to his unpacking. “I wondered if anyone would bother.”
The three younger men—all in their early to midtwenties—continued to play pool as she and Brandon made their way over. But she could tell they were quite aware of her and Brandon as law enforcement and of her as a woman.
“Hey, guys.” Brandon’s tone was friendly but firm. “We’d like to talk to you about Noelle Brumby.”
Andrea tried to watch all three as closely as she could. Two, Luke and Corey, immediately tensed, but she wasn’t sure if that was because of their relationship with Noelle or because they just didn’t like cops. The other one, Jarrod, definitely expressed some guilt at Noelle’s name, but mostly couldn’t seem to get his attention off Andrea.
Andrea tried to classify in her mind the reactions of each man. She wished she could record them and study them multiple times later, but she didn’t have that luxury in this situation.
“What makes you think we even knew her?” Luke asked, now holding the pool cue with white knuckles.
“Phil said she hung out with you three a lot.”
“Yeah, well, maybe Phil should keep his mouth shut,” defensive guy number two—Corey—muttered, not looking up from the shot he was making.
Brandon walked around the pool table so he was standing against the far wall. Andrea understood why he did it, to get a different angle and perspective for reading these guys, but she felt more exposed without him next to her.
“We’re trying to find the killer of someone who was your friend. I’d think you’d want to help with that.” Brandon was watching Luke and Corey as he made the statement—one meant to cause a reaction. Andrea turned her attention to Jarrod, only to find him overtly studying her, so she looked back at the other two men.
“Some sicko killed Noelle,” Luke said. “We don’t know anything about it.”
Corey was looking more and more uncomfortable. “What’s your name?” she asked softly even though she already knew.
“You don’t have to answer that, Corey.” Luke wasn’t too smart.
Jarrod laughed from where he stood against the wall. “You just told her his name, Luke. Dumb ass.” Of course, he’d just done the same thing.
“Corey—” Andrea took a step toward the other man “—do you know something? Anything that could help us find Noelle’s killer?”
“No.” Corey shook his head, not really looking at her. “I don’t know anything.”
Andrea was about to press further with Corey when Jarrod interrupted.
“Oh my gawd, are you Andrea Gordon?” Jarrod all but gushed. “It is you, right? You were in one of my math classes in high school. I’m Jarrod McConnachie.”
Damn it. Andrea knew she might be recognized at some point, but hadn’t thought it would be by some guys in a bar in the middle of the afternoon.
Luke tilted his head to one side. “Oh yeah, I think I remember you. You were pretty quiet. But always hot.” All three men snickered.
Oh God, had they come to see her dance when she worked at Jaguar’s? She’d always worn wigs and enough makeup to give herself an entirely different appearance, but the thought they might recognize her and announce it made her absolutely sick.
“I thought you’d moved away your junior year,” Jarrod said.
She hadn’t moved away, really just to the other side of town. But she’d dropped out of school. “Yeah, something like that.”
“But I still kept seeing your mom and dad around. So then I didn’t know what happened to you. A couple people thought you’d died and they just hadn’t announced it.”
It was good to know a few people noticed she was gone.
“It was my aunt and uncle I lived with, not my mom and dad. But yeah, they stayed here when I left.” They’d never once tried to find her, thank God. That last time when she’d fallen through the table, they had probably been afraid they might go to jail. Looking for her wouldn’t have been in their best interest.
Andrea should’ve gone to the police. She knew that now. Knew there were good officers out there—Omega worked with them all the time—who wanted to help. Who would’ve believed her or at least have thoroughly investigated. But at the time she’d been young and scared and thought all cops were the enemy.
The exact way these guys thought of them, too. She needed to get the questions back on track but had no idea how to do so.
“Well, you sure cleaned up nice,” Jarrod said, moving slightly closer. “And you’re a cop. I’d be happy to let you cuff me to anything you want.”
The other guys chuckled.
“How about if I cuff you and throw you in a cell with a couple of long-term criminals?” Brandon interjected, coming to stand next to Andrea again. “Would that work for you?”
“Look, man—” Jarrod backed off “—I was just trying to say hello to an old friend.”
Brandon’s eyes narrowed. “Instead, why don’t all of you tell us where you were on Friday night between midnight and 4:00 a.m.?”
The body had been found Saturday afternoon, but the coroner put the time of death as late Friday night or early Saturday morning.
“I was at home with my wife,” Corey said. Brandon marked it down in a notebook.
“I was in Phoenix at a bar with a bunch of friends,” Luke said, giving its name. “We started home after last call.” He glanced down before looking up defiantly at Brandon and Andrea.
There was definitely more to that story. Luke’s emotions weren’t necessarily guilt in a specific sense, but a sort of overall vague sense of shame.
“I was at my house sleeping, after walking home from here. I live off Old Highway 80,” Jarrod said, still staring openly at Andrea.
“You live alone?” Brandon asked.
Both the other men snickered. Brandon raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“No,” Luke said. “He lives with his mother.”
Jarrod turned away, grimacing. “Thanks, Luke.”
Andrea couldn’t help but smile a little at Jarrod’s comeuppance. Especially since his desire to bed her practically oozed from his pores. He wasn’t even trying to hide his craving for Andrea.
“Your mom can vouch that you were at the house?” Brandon asked Jarrod.
“Yeah, man. She’s always at home. Gets so angry at me whenever I go out.”
Probably pretty angry that Jarrod didn’t have a job, either, but Andrea didn’t mention that.