Other links:
Sapphire Angel, Superheroine (Book 1)
Power Play (Book 2)
Deconstruction (this book - Book 3)
Before Beth left the garage, Ted printed several photos of the mystery man from the video feed — or what they could see of him — and a photo of Eric leaving the bar. They found more footage of the man trailing Eric at the start of the night as he moved from the garage to the bar, but those photos weren't much better.
Ted also printed a photo of a black Ford Focus leaving the garage, although dirt covered its license plate, and its driver wore a baseball cap pulled low, hiding his face from the camera. Each photo contained time codes printed in the corner.
After finishing with Ted in the garage, Beth made her way to Lanigan's Bar, stepping into the front door and giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light. She stood in a large, square room, with less than ten patrons scattered about the twenty tables in the room. The tables were made of dark, thick wood, and the chairs were equally stout. The walls were devoid of decorations, and the place smelled of stale beer.
One man, older with thinning brown hair, stood behind a bar running the length of the opposite wall. It was made of the same dark wood as the tables. He eyed her as she stood in the doorway. The other patrons in the bar did the same.
Beth gazed back at them, unfazed. They looked like regulars, clustered in a handful of small groups. They had been in subdued conversation when she had entered, which they resumed after a few moments.
Ross and Jack had told her Lanigan's was a favorite hangout of the young computer programmers who worked at ArangoSoft, but the younger crowd probably came much later, after this crowd left. The current crowd might not have seen Eric, as his visit had occurred much later in the day.
The entry door had been near a corner, so Beth followed the wall as she made her way across the room toward the bar. Halfway there, a group of photographs pinned to a bulletin board caught her eye. The words "Lanigan's Babe Bracket" appeared above the photographs.
The photographs were of beautiful female celebrities, athletes, and supermodels, and were arranged into brackets, like a college basketball pool. It seemed the bar had been conducting a tournament of some sort, with the patrons voting on the women in each round, to determine who advanced to the next. Vote tallies appeared below each photograph. The tournament was down to its last round, with two women facing each other, their photographs having advanced through every round. One photograph belonged to Aubrey Deville, a famous supermodel. The other photograph was of Sapphire Angel. The superheroine had run away with the vote in each of her contests to date, as had Aubrey Deville.
Beth remembered when the photograph had been taken. She had just stepped out of a building back home after taking down a group of gang members. A freelance photographer had been staking out the place and shot the photo just as she exited. She faced him, hands on hips, her blue eyes peering directly at the camera. The photograph had resulted in a nice payday for the photographer.
Men objectified Sapphire Angel so often, by now she was numb to it. Beth pulled yourself away from the bulletin board and made her way up to the bar. The bartender looked up at her, and said in a soft, even voice, "What can I get you?"
"An unsweetened iced tea."
The bartender raised an eyebrow, but bent down for a glass and got to work pouring her drink.
Beth climbed onto the stool across from him as she waited. Only one other person sat at the bar. A grizzled older man, with wiry grey hair poking out from under a green John Deere cap, looked toward her with a nonchalant gaze.
The bartender slid her drink toward her, along with a small saucer containing various bags of sweeteners.
"A buck twenty-five for that, or you can start a tab," the bartender said, and Beth fished two dollar bills out of her bag and slid them across the bar.
"I don't need change," she told the bartender.
The bartender nodded and took the money.
"By any chance were you working here last night?" Beth asked before he could move away to the cash register.
He looked up at her with an amused smirk. "You're not from around here, are you?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Because I'm Don Lanigan. I own this place, and anybody from around here knows this place is my baby. I'm always here when it's open."
Beth nodded. "I see. Then I guess you know everything that goes on in here?"
Lanigan cocked his head and looked at her as he answered. "You could say that," he replied, caution in his tone.
Beth reached into her pocket and pulled out her iPhone. She unlocked it and held up a photo of Eric.
"Do you remember seeing this man in here last night? He may have stood out a bit, because he was carrying a laptop bag when he came in."
As the man gazed at the photo, Beth noticed an almost imperceptible stiffening in him. It was there for a split second before disappearing.
"Nope, I've never seen the guy," Lanigan replied, his voice flat.
Beth forced back a frown and studied him for a moment before replying.
"Look closer," Beth implored. "Please. This is important."
The bartender leaned in toward her phone again and shook his head. "No, he was never here."
"You're sure?"
"I remember my patrons."
"All of them?" Beth asked him, giving him a disbelieving stare. Ross and Jack had told her the establishment could get crowded late at night.
"Even when it's crowded, I never forget a face," he answered, as if reading her mind.
"What if I told you I knew he had been in here last night?" Beth said.
"Then I would say you were wrong," he replied, his tone short.
"No, I'm not wrong. I know for a fact he was here, because I saw it with my own eyes." Beth said, fighting down her annoyance.
"Listen, ma'am, I have work to do. I didn't see your friend, and I can't help you. Is there anything else I can get you?"
Beth closed her mouth and gritted her teeth. Between the police and this obstinate man, this was proving to be a most unhelpful town. Ted in the garage looked like a ray of sunshine by comparison.
"No, that's it," she said, lowering herself from her stool in disgust. As she headed to the door, she noticed the man with the John Deere hat watching her with an amused expression on his face. His look irritated her even more.
Conner Bennett stared at his iPhone on the table in front of him. He reached a tentative hand toward it, before pulling back.
He reminded himself she was the one who left, but he remembered his own words, telling her they needed a break. And now she was gone, having left on bad terms and flying off into what was hopefully a harmless situation. But what if she were facing danger, thinking he didn't care about her?
Her trip wasn't an isolated incident. During the entirety of their short time together, she had treated their relationship like an afterthought. She was always running off and disappearing, with one lame excuse after another. He knew there must be more to her life than she had told him, but what might it be? Family troubles? A traumatic event from her past? A health issue? She only told him her background was "complicated."
He did his best to gain her trust, so she might confide in him, but it hadn't worked. Whatever her private life held, she didn't feel close enough to him to divulge it to him.
Her behavior made it somewhat easier for him to let her go. But he couldn't stop glancing at his phone.
Other links:
Sapphire Angel, Superheroine (Book 1)
Power Play (Book 2)
Deconstruction (this book - Book 3)
WeII, uhhh.....is Ted the onIy heIpfuI person in this stinkin' town (as the book says)? I'm reaIIy beginning to get that feeIing. I think Don Lanigan does know something, but he's just refusing to cooperate because seeing her get mad amuses him. I know, 'cause I used to be guiIty of being that exact same type of person; ticking random peopIe off just 'cause.
Conner, dude, you gotta go and heIp her, man.....she couId reaIIy use someone Iike you. Not to mention that they couId connect and spend more time together via this case. Then again.....Beth wouId probabIy make the case the priority; she aIready did it before, anyways.
What if he just heId reguIar video caIIs or something? That way he'd stiII be abIe to heIp out a Iot without actuaIIy being physicaIIy present?
On to Chapter 15!