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They needed to retrace all these women’s steps, starting with Atta since she would be the most recent and more memorable, but since Amy had been Darla’s roommate, she would know more about her disappearance. “Tell me about the last night you saw Darla.”
“I told all this to Regis. Sorry, Detective Owsley, when he came. And I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but I have somewhere to be in twenty minutes.”
Somewhere to be. That was fast becoming a well-used phrase in Night Hollow. “Once we ask you some questions, you’re free to go, though we’ll probably stick around if that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah. Fine. Just turn the lock when y’all leave.”
“About the last time you saw Darla...” Violet redirected.
“Five weeks ago this Friday night. We’d gone to the Black Feather for a few drinks and to listen to a live band outta Pikeville.”
Again. Same bar the anonymous call came from.
“Darla loved music. And crocheting. She’d listen to old vinyl while making hats or scarves or baby blankets. It was her thing.”
“Did she meet anyone at the bar? Dance with anyone?”
“She danced with a couple of guys who’d come in from Pikeville to see the band. Strangers. But that was nothin’.”
“Did she talk to or hang out with anyone local?” Violet asked.
Amy fidgeted and ran her hand down her thigh. “Probably. It’s been weeks. I had a good buzz going and played pool for a while with some friends. I wasn’t watchin’ her like a hawk, you know?”
“Who left first?”
“I did. Around midnight. She said she’d catch a ride.” She wiped her eyes. “I should’ve stayed. I should’ve stayed the night Atta died too.”
“You saw Atta the night she died?”
Amy nodded. “She came in the Black Feather around one Saturday morning. She’d been in a fight. Didn’t want to talk about it.” She pointed to her eye. “Had one of those little bandages on her eyebrow. Guess someone had split it open. She went to the back, and I left. Told her to call if she needed me.”
“You see her with anyone when you left the bar?”
She shook her head.
“Any idea who might have roughed her up? Or bandaged her eye?”
She slid her bottom lip between her teeth and flicked her nail, avoiding eye contact. “No,” she murmured. Violet wasn’t buying it.
“Back to Darla. Do you know who she was going to catch a ride with?”
“Didn’t say. I mean locals were crawlin’, and anybody would have given her a lift. No big.”
Clearly it was. And the bar was possibly the last place Atta Atwater had been before she died. They’d run that trail next.
“What about Earl Levine?” John asked. “Was he in the bar?”
John had told her this guy was one of Whiskey’s crew and had roughed up Tillie, and he had an altercation with Atta not long after. Could he be connected to Darla Boone as well?
Amy’s eyes widened. “Yeah,” she whispered. “How you know about Earl?”
“It’s our job. We’re good at it too.” Violet held Amy’s eye contact. This woman needed to know that Violet wasn’t a pushover and wouldn’t stop until she uncovered every truth. “Did Earl dance with Darla? Talk to her? Could he have been her ride?”
Amy inhaled deeply. “Maybe,” she squeaked. “Darla knew Earl. He grew up in the holler a few years ahead of us. Dropped out at fifteen. He wasn’t always...he used to be a decent person. But...”
But Whiskey.
“He drinks a good bit. When he’s drunk, he can be unruly.”
