Emma and I spent the afternoon on the back porch reading. Well, I read; she napped. The fog had burned off during lunch, and now the sunshine felt warm on my feet. I tried to put the whole Kent thing behind me, but I knew the answer had to be with the redheaded woman. She was the clue to breaking this puzzle.
I went into the house and looked up the number for the Bakerstown car rental office. Dialing, I hoped Tim had been there and gone, or Greg was going to hear about this.
“Bakerstown Rental, how can we make your day?” A female who sounded way too chipper for anyone at a real job answered on the first ring.
“Can I speak with your manager?”
“Sure. Steve’s available. Can I ask who’s calling?”
Crap, I hadn’t planned on this. I grabbed the first name that came to me, “Amy Westhouse.”
The lie must have sounded plausible because in a few minutes, a male voice came on the line. “This is Steve, how can I help you?”
“Hey, I have one follow-up question from Tim’s visit today to finish up the report.” I shuffled papers like I was looking for something. “Hold on, I know his report was here somewhere.”
“Tim, the police officer from South Cove?” Steve sounded interested now.
“Yeah, on the rental vehicle, were you the one who rented to the suspect?” I paused, letting the implication sink in.
“Now, look here, I told the officer that we followed all the procedures. The woman had a valid license and a credit card, so there wasn’t anything that suggested she was a criminal.” He flustered through the information.
“Okay, I see that, but the name on the license, Tim’s notes are a little blurry, who rented the car?” I held my breath, hoping he’d answer.
“Jennifer Adams. Check the copy of the driver’s license. She just lives down the street at 14 Highland. Why don’t you call her if you have any more questions, I’m a little busy here with customers.” Now Steve the manager just sounded mad. “Is that all, or do you want to ask me all the questions the officer asked again?”
“You’ve been very helpful. I don’t understand why the officers can’t just print out their reports, it would save me so much time and headache.” I sighed, hoping he would buy my overworked clerical act.
“Well, I guess it didn’t hurt anything. Have a nice day.” Steve hung up on me. I hoped he was so busy he wouldn’t even remember this conversation in a few hours. I considered driving into Bakerstown just to get a look at this woman, but I knew if I went alone, Greg would have my head.
Checking the clock, I dialed Amy’s work number. “Hey, do you want to do dinner in Bakerstown tonight? I’ll buy.”
We made plans for me to pick her up in thirty minutes in front of the bike rental shop.
When she piled in the Jeep, she gave me a quick hug and threw her bag in the back. “So why are we really going to Bakerstown?”
“Am I that obvious?” I turned on my blinker and turned back onto Main Street, heading the long way out of town. This way I didn’t have to drive past the police station and risk running into Greg.
“Crystal clear. Besides, you never want to drive into town just for dinner. You tend to bunch your chores together.” She shrugged then turned on the radio. “You don’t have to tell me.”
I got on the highway, then turned down the music. “Fine, we’re checking out another one of Kent’s girls. This Jennifer Adams rented the car that was parked next to Kent’s the day I saw him making out with a redhead.”
“Uncovering Kent’s habit of keeping more than one woman on the line doesn’t mean she killed him.”
I thought about this. Maybe Jennifer was just another conquest for him. “True, but the leads are all dying. If this girl is a redhead, she may be one of the last people to see him alive. And maybe she could tell us who he was meeting later that night.”
Amy considered my reasoning, then nodded and turned the tunes back up. That’s the joy of having a best friend who gets you. Amy would be the one sitting beside me in the jail cell laughing about how much fun we’d had.
“I’m still buying you dinner.” I turned into Bakerstown and keyed the address Steve had given me into my GPS.
“I never had any doubt.” Amy watched out the window as we drove deeper into the little town. The buildings turned from offices, to retail, and finally to residential. Then the houses got smaller and less maintained. Finally we were parked outside 14 Highland. Or what had been 14 Highland before the house had burned to the ground. If Jennifer lived here, she was pitching a tent as the actual house was demolished.