Loo let out a bark of laughter, then went watery at the edges. “You’re fine here, too. Get a drink, sit down.”
“All right. I’m going to say something first. The only blame is on the person who took her. We can always say if I’d done this, or hadn’t done that, but it doesn’t change what is. The only person who could change what is, is the one who took her.”
While Loo stared into her coffee, Naomi went to get herself a Coke.
“She’s my closest friend,” Loo said quietly. “Since high school. We didn’t have a thing in common, but we just got to be friends anyway. I stood up for her when she married that asshole, just like she stood up for me when I married Johnny. And when he died, I don’t know how I’d have gotten through it without her.”
She sighed, sniffled. “And she told me not to marry Dikes. But when I did, she stood up for me again.”
She sampled the coffee, arched eyebrows at Naomi. “This is damn good Irish coffee.”
“I learned from the master.” She slid into the booth beside Xander. “I don’t know if it helps, but my brother’s here, and meeting with Chief Winston right now. He’s with the FBI.”
“Sam called the FBI?”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know who called whoit got lost in translationbut we’ve got an FBI agent helping look for her.”
“He’s had herwhoever the bastard issince Friday night. Word’s gotten out on what was done to Marla. Donna . . .”
Reaching over, Xander closed a hand over hers. “Don’t do that, Loo. We’ll go crazy if we do that.”
“I drove all over hell and back last night. Just driving the road, looking for her, for . . . something. With my baseball bat and my .32.”
“Jesus, Loo. You should’ve called me.”
“I nearly did.” She turned her hand over, linked her fingers with his. “Who else do I call when I hit a wall? Not that I often hit one I can’t bust through on my own. You’ll find that out if you stick with this one,” she said to Naomi. “If you hit that wall or your back’s to one, you want this one with you.”
“Come on, Loo.”
“She should know you’re not just a pretty face.”
“I’ve seen prettier. I’ve had prettier,” Naomi added, and earned that bark of laughter as she’d hoped. “You need some art on the walls in here, Loo.”
“It’s a bar.”
“It’s a good bar. I’m not talking frilly, fussy, fern-bar art. There’s one coming in of the Wreckersthey have to buy that from me. But I’ve got one of Xander and Tag, a sunrise silhouette that I punched up so their blue eyes stand out. It’d work in here, and I’ll give it to you if you like it. It’d be exposure for me.”
“You’re not going to put me up on the wall.”
Loo arched those eyebrows again. “I will if I like it. It’s my bar.”
“It’s half mine.”
“So I’ll hang it in my half.” She gave his hand a squeeze, then a light slap, then went back to her coffee. “You’ve settled my nerves, both of you, and I’m grateful.”
“You should get out of here. We’ll go have lunch or something.”
Smiling a little, Loo shook her head at Xander. “When I’m this worked up I clean, but I’ll finish up here calmer than I was. If you hear anything from your brother, anything about where she is, you need to let me know.”
“I will.”
“All right. Go on now, and take this dog before I end up keeping him for myself. I’m all right now.”
“If you need me for anything, you call me.”
“I will. I’m going to hope I hear they found her, and she’s okay. I’m going to hold on to that.”
When they left her, she’d gone back to her mopping.
Since she’d decided to believe Mason would stay at least overnight, Naomi had Xander take her by the marketgrateful they had limited Sunday hours. She picked up what she needed for one of his favorite meals.
Every local in the market had something to say about Donna, or would stop Xander to ask what he knew. She didn’t take a clear, easy breath until they were outside again.
“I should’ve known that, and made do with what I had at home.” She sat back in the seat, stomach knotted, headache brewing. “And it had to be harder on you than me. All the talk,” she added. “The questions, the speculation.”
“Everyone who lives here knows her, so they’re worried.”
“Maybe Mason will have something, anything, to add. I know he’s my brother, Xander, but he really is ridiculously smart. He notices everything, forgets nothing, and he’s studied for what he’s doing since he was a kid. I caught him oncehe wasn’t quite fast enough to block my view of what he was looking at on his computer. Serial killers. I was so mad, so outraged that he’d do that, read about them. He just said he needed to know; the more he knew, the better he could deal with it.”