Angel Fire East by Terry Brooks

“Larry,” she said quietly, turning him with her hands on his arms so that his back was to the living room. “I don’t know anything about Bennett Scott and drugs beyond the fact she was an addict. John knows even less. I didn’t even know she was coming back here until she showed up on my doorstep. John, when he came to see me, didn’t either. He hasn’t been back here in fifteen years. Bennett was five then. All this talk about drug dealing in the park, true or not, does not involve us. Keep that in mind, will you?”

His face closed down. “I’ll keep an open mind, I can promise you that.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll need to see the young lady’s room. You don’t have to let me, of course, if you don’t want to. But it would save me a trip down to the courthouse for a search warrant.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Larry!” she snapped. “You can see anything you want!” She sighed wearily. “Come with me. I’ll show you where she was staying.”

They walked down the hallway past the den and Nest’s room to the guest bedroom where Bennett and Harper were staying. The room was gray with shadows and silent. Bennett’s clothes were still in her bag in the closet, and Nest had already picked up after Harper and made the bed. She stood in the doorway while Larry Spence poked about, checking the closet and the dresser drawers, looking under the bed and in the adjoining bathroom, and searching Bennett’s worn satchel. He didn’t seem to find anything of importance, and when he was done he put everything back the way he had found it.

“Guess that’ll do,” he said without much enthusiasm. “Why don’t we do the interviews now, and then I’ll be out of your hair?”

“All right,” she replied. “Do you want some privacy for this?”

He shrugged his big shoulders, and she could hear the creak of his leather gun belt. “I can interview you and Mr. Ross out in the living room. Do the both of you together. Maybe the children could play back here while we talk.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want Harper alone in this room just yet. I just finished telling her about her mother.” She hesitated. “They can play in my bedroom.”

She went past him out the door and down the hall, irritated but resigned, already thinking about the more pressing problem of how she would manage the next twenty-four hours. It wouldn’t be easy. Harper would be thinking of her mother. Little John was a weight she could barely shoulder, and yet she had to find a way to do so. Ross would probably be wanting to leave and go into hiding; he hadn’t said so, but she could sense he’d made the decision. Whatever she did about any of them, she would second-guess herself later.

She collected Harper and Little John, the puzzle and a few other toys, and took them all into her bedroom. She told the children she had to talk with someone out in the living room, but she would be back to check on them. It wouldn’t take long, and they could come back out when she was done.

It felt awkward, but she wanted the space and maneuverability that the living room offered so that she could usher Larry Spence out as soon as the interviews were concluded— sooner, if he started to annoy her—without disturbing the children.

Larry Spence had closed Bennett’s bedroom door and was standing in the hallway, waiting for her. He continued to look ill at ease. Leaving her own bedroom door open just a crack, anxious that Harper not hear what might be said, she took him back down the hall to where Ross was waiting. They sat together in the living room, Ross and Nest on the couch, Spence in the easy chair. He produced a small notebook and pen, jotted a few notes, and then asked Nest to begin.

She did so without preamble, detailing the events from the time of their departure from the house until her discovery at Robert’s that Bennett was missing. She left out anything about Ross, preferring to let him tell his own story. She also left out everything about the ur’droch, saying instead that she had come back to find the house broken into and the power and phone out.

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