Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,77
tell us more about the mysterious journalist.”
“And if he’s not there?” she asked, not even wanting to think they had the name of the next victim.
The small muscle in Aaron’s jaw flexed in his tense jaw as he concentrated on driving. “Then we ask more questions.”
The light drizzle started as they pulled into the gas station’s lot.
“Look’s like the cold front they promised is moving in,” Brianna said as they climbed out of the car. She set Stanley back in her seat. “You stay here, little guy, no use in all of us getting wet.”
Aaron watched her over the hood of the car.
“What? If he gets wet, then we have to smell wet dog the rest of the night,” she said, as if daring him to make some sarcastic comment to her.
He wasn’t falling into that trap. Instead, he just lifted one corner of his mouth in a little smile.
“Couldn’t agree more,” he said, pressing the lock button on the old car before closing his door.
They walked briskly into the service station’s little store, passing a few people huddled under the overhang outside to stay dry. Inside they found one person shopping for beer and snacks—probably the driver of the pickup parked near one of the gas pumps they passed as they parked. The manager—a man of middle eastern or possibly eastern Mediterranean decent around thirty years of age—sat behind a glass enclosure. Aaron would bet it was bullet proof. Any smart owner would be sure of that in this neighborhood, especially if you were a twenty-four-hour service shop like this one.
“I’m going to see if they have any snacks for Stanley,” Brianna said, heading down one of the aisles.
Aaron waited a moment, making sure the other shopper—a tall, heavy-set white man—didn’t do anything more than watch her for a second before going back to studying the snacks. Satisfied she wasn’t in any danger, Aaron stepped up to the cashier’s window and flashed his police ID. “Good evening.”
The slightly startled store manager glanced around behind Aaron before focusing on him. “Good evening, officer. Is something wrong?”
People were being abducted, tortured to death and left in some psycho’s weird game of Clue. Yeah, the guy didn’t need to hear that.
“Nothing to do with you or your station, sir. I just want to ask you some questions about the regulars that come in and maybe hang out nearby,” he said, using his most calming voice. He needed the man relaxed and willing to talk.
“You mean the homeless people, don’t you?” The man had no accent, so Aaron assumed he was raised in the Cleveland area.
“Yeah,” Aaron shifted to the side and leaned in on his left elbow to talk casually and still leave the manager a visual of his store beyond the glass. “We heard a guy named Steroid Kyle sometimes hangs out near here.”
“Kinda big? Like a body builder or football player?”
Aaron gave a half grin. “Something like that.”
“Never knew his name, but he does look like he takes steroids. So, yeah, I’ve seen him. Guy usually comes in late at night almost every night, scores a ton of carb snacks and candy. Which if he’s doing ’roids makes perfect sense.” The manager moved to the register as the other customer deposited a six-pack of beer, two bags of chips and a pack of beef jerky on the counter.
While he waited for the transaction to finish, Aaron scanned outside the area where he could see the few people trying to stay dry and the pumps beyond. Another vehicle pulled in and the driver got out to pump gas. No one approached him and after filling his tank, he drove off. The rain was starting to pick up and the stragglers outside walked through the lot and turned to hurry into the empty building behind the station.
Nothing to worry about outside. Aaron shifted his gaze to find Brianna, who had moved to where the pops were stored in the cold section. She caught his eye, lifted the pack of puppy treats in her hand and grinned. He shook his head, but grinned, too. Stanley might not know it yet, but the pup had just landed a new home with someone who would spoil him rotten.
“So, what did this Steroid dude do?” the manager asked, finished with his customer who left the shop.
“We don’t know that he’s done anything illegal, just want to talk with him,” Aaron said. “Have you seen him around lately?”
The other man drew his brows down in concentration, stared