other waitresses, she wore black slacks and black athletic shoes. Just below the short, hemmed sleeve of her white blouse was a tattoo of a unicorn.
Roger bowed and turned away. “Take your time, Sheriff.”
Bree stepped into the empty lobby. “I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Is this about Holly?” Deb’s mouth went grim.
“Yes,” Bree said.
Deb looked over Bree’s shoulder and frowned. She cleared her throat while covering her mouth, then whispered, “Can we go outside?”
Bree glanced back. The manager was watching them.
“Let’s get some fresh air,” Matt said in a louder voice, then motioned toward the door. He held it open for Bree and Deb, and the three of them walked onto the concrete walkway and around the corner to the side parking lot.
“Thanks.” Deb pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. “Roger is an OK guy, but he can’t keep his nose out of other people’s business. He’s the last person you want to tell something personal.”
Was she going to share some personal information?
But Deb was quiet for a few seconds as she lit a cigarette.
Bree blinked as a plume of smoke blew directly in her face. “When was the last time you saw Holly?”
Deb drew on her cigarette. “Friday. I only work two days a week at Beckett, usually Thursdays and Fridays, but sometimes they ask me to switch. It all depends on what needs to be done.”
“What do you do there?” Bree asked.
Deb blew a smoke ring. “Whatever they need. Mostly payroll, but every quarter they also need help with tax docs.”
“Was Holly acting normally?” Bree took her notepad from her pocket.
Deb shrugged. “I guess.”
The wind shifted, and the smoke trailed into Bree’s nose. “How well do you know her?”
“I dunno.” Deb’s shoulder jerked.
“Would you consider yourself Holly’s friend?” Matt asked.
“Just a work friend.” Deb flicked ashes from her cigarette. “We might grab a drink after work to bitch about stuff, but we don’t hang out other than that. We haven’t even done the happy-hour thing in ages.”
Bree lifted her pen. “You didn’t go out with her last week?”
“No.” Deb’s brows knitted. “It’s been at least a month, probably more. She keeps blowing me off.” She sounded a little hurt and went quiet again.
Bree tried another angle. “Do you like your job at Beckett Construction?”
“No.” Deb snorted. “I’m probably gonna quit. I was trying to get out of waitressing. Working in an office doesn’t make my feet hurt, but it’s just not worth it. I asked Roger today if I could get more hours here.”
“Why?” Matt asked.
“Because Paul Beckett is a fucking octopus.” Deb made a disgusted face. “Handsy as hell. He’s so old. It’s gross.”
Bree was not surprised. Paul acted like a man who thought the rules didn’t apply to him.
“What do you mean handsy?” Anger brightened Matt’s eyes. Like most good men, he was always offended by men who used their power to abuse women.
Deb frowned. “I mean, he’ll go out of his way to rub up against me, and he’s grabbed my ass a couple of times. And then he smirks, like there’s nothing I can do about it.” She dragged on her smoke, then nodded toward the restaurant. “Roger’s as gossipy as an old lady, but he’s decent and keeps his hands to himself.”
Matt’s mouth flattened. “Did he proposition you or threaten to fire you if you didn’t have sex with him?”
“No. He never took it any further.” Bitterness dripped from Deb’s words. “He just likes to show me that he can do whatever he wants. Not that everyone minds,” she added, her voice huffy.
“Who doesn’t mind?” Bree asked.
“Holly.” Deb dropped her cigarette and ground it under the toe of her shoe.
Bree’s brain clicked as a piece of the puzzle fell into place. “Did she say that?”
“No.” Deb gave Bree an are you stupid? look. “But I know she was fucking him.”
“Holly was having sex with Paul?” Bree clarified.
“That’s what fucking generally means.” Deb lit another cigarette, as if she was trying to inhale as much nicotine as possible while on her unscheduled break.
“How do you know?” Bree asked.
“I saw them together.” Deb dragged hard on her second cigarette. She glanced toward the front of the restaurant. “Look, I was attracted to Holly.” She stared at Bree, then Matt in challenge, as if daring them to judge her. “I knew nothing would ever happen between us. She didn’t go that way, but seeing her with Paul . . .” She shook her head. “Her marriage was intense. She was always bitching