Davy shook his head.
“He has memorable red hair,” Rena said.
“I like redheads,” Davy said, looking at Rena’s hair.
Gross. “Mr. Grace, are you the only one working today?”
Davy shrugged. “Yes. Both Pete and Cory got some kind of flu. Or so they say.” He smiled.
“You think that might not be true?” A.L. asked.
“They’re probably fishing. They know that Troy has his head somewhere else so there’s little danger of it catching up to them.”
A.L. had said that Troy had known Pete Seoul and Cory Prider for a long time. But now they were potentially goofing off while Troy was dealing with something horrific. With friends like that, who needed enemies? “You happen to have phone numbers for Pete and Cory?” Rena asked.
“Cell numbers,” Davy said.
“Good enough,” she said. They would call and ask the two to come to the station to answer some questions. That should get their attention.
* * *
Pete Seoul and Cory Prider had indeed been fishing. Pete’s nose was sunburned and Cory’s pants looked as if he’d fallen in. They both looked to be in their early forties. They took Cory first.
“You got a Coke or something?” Cory asked as he leaned back in his chair.
Rena started to get up but settled down as A.L. said, “No.”
“Water?” Cory asked.
Rena didn’t budge. She knew what was coming. A.L. had made up his mind. These guys were pieces of shit.
“No,” A.L. said. “You were absent from work today?”
“Yeah.”
“Sick?” A.L. asked.
Cory shrugged, maybe a little sheepishly. “Mental health day.”
If he’d needed fresh air, he could have joined the volunteers searching for Emma. “I imagine Troy Whitman’s mental health isn’t all that great right now,” she said. “Probably doesn’t need to be worrying about his business.”
“We did him a fucking favor. If we don’t work, we don’t get paid. And quite frankly, there is barely enough to keep Dutiful Davy busy.”
“You don’t like your coworker?” Rena asked.
Cory shrugged. “He’s...let’s just say that he’s a simple guy. And sometimes that can get on a person’s nerves.”
“Not enough work. Not crazy about your coworker. Doesn’t sound as if there are great benefits. I guess I’m curious why you stay,” A.L. asked.
“Some work is better than no work. And I like Troy Whitman well enough. I feel damn sorry for him. A missing kid is bad.”
“You have children, Mr. Prider?” Rena asked.
“No wife, no kids. That I know about, anyway.” He smiled without showing any teeth.
Neither A.L. nor Rena smiled back. “Walk me through your day on this past Wednesday.”
Prider let out a loud sigh. “I left my apartment around 6:30. Stopped at Pancake Magic for breakfast like I usually do, and got to work about 7:15. I was the first one there. I unlocked the doors, made the coffee and finished a brake job on a car that had been left overnight.”
“Who got to work next?” Rena asked.
“Shit, I don’t know. Davy or Pete. One of them. I was busy, you know, and it ain’t my job to babysit them.”
“You’re sure they were both at work that day?”
Prider leaned back and looked at the ceiling as if the answer was written there. “Now that I think about it, Davy wasn’t at work that day. So it was Pete. But don’t ask me what time he got there. I don’t fucking know.”
“Do you recall what time Troy came to work that morning?” A.L. asked, his voice hard.
Cory scrunched up his forehead. “I think he was there by 9:00.”
“Is that earlier or later than usual?” Rena asked.
“Later,” Cory said. “Lots of mornings, he’s there when I arrive. Already has the coffee made.”
“Did the two of you happen to talk about why he was later than usual?” A.L. asked.
“No,” Cory said. “He’s the boss. He can come in whenever he wants. None of my business.”
“Have you talked to Troy in the last couple of days? Since Wednesday?” A.L. asked.
“No. I sent him a text when I heard the news about his daughter. Just told him we were all pulling for him.”
“Did he respond?” Rena asked.
“I think so. He said thanks or something like that.”
“When you’re absent, do you call in before your shift?” Rena asked.
“Sometimes. But I didn’t want to bug him today. We do time sheets. That’s how he knows what days to pay us for.”
“Do you know Leah Whitman?” Rena asked.
“Of course. She comes by sometimes. Calls the business phone when Troy isn’t answering his cell.”
“Does he not answer his cell often?” A.L. asked.
“Only when he doesn’t want to talk to his wife,” Cory said, once again doing the weird smile with no teeth.
They needed to end this. Before she got sick. It was way worse than Davy saying he liked redheads. Rena stood up. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Prider. If you should think of anything that might help us find Emma Whitman, we’d appreciate a call.” Both she and A.L. passed over cards.
“Sure,” he said.
Rena escorted the man out of the building, using a door that didn’t require her to pass by Pete Seoul, who was still waiting. While Cory Prider had given them nothing that was especially helpful, she still didn’t want the two of them comparing stories.
Once she deposited Prider on the sidewalk, she returned to the conference room where A.L. sat. He was reviewing his notes.
“If he’s a regular at Pancake Magic, Traci probably knows him,” Rena said.
“I’m going to pretend that I have no knowledge that the likes of him has any intersect with my daughter. Do you feel as if you need a shower?” A.L. asked.
“Sort of. What do you think Troy Whitman was doing between 7:15 and 9:00? His house is only a fifteen-minute drive to Garage on Division.”
“I know. That’s what I was checking in my notes. He said that he was anxious because he doesn’t generally do mornings, that Leah did them. That meshes with Prider saying that Troy is usually the first one in.”