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“Oh, geez,” he said, turning and putting down a barrel he had been carrying without much sweat. “Uh, you probably want to talk to my manager.”
“I’d like to talk to any staff who are on the premises, actually,” Laura said. “Would you get them and bring them out here?”
“Yeah, of course,” he said. He hovered momentarily. “Would you like a drink?”
“We’re on duty,” Nate said. Laura sensed he had jumped in to remove temptation – but she was doing fine. This place reminded her more than anything about the one thing that was true of alcoholism: No matter how good a time you thought you were having, as soon as you sobered up, you pretty much always discovered that you were in some grimy dive bar where all the surfaces were sticky and you wished you were back at home.
“Right. Have a seat,” he said, finally disappearing back into a backroom, out of sight.
Laura looked down at the tables and chairs around them, hesitating.
Nate threw himself down on a comfortable-looking sofa, made in a sleek modern style to match chairs on the opposite side of a low table. He didn’t immediately recoil in horror or disgust, so Laura gingerly joined him. She didn’t stick to the leather, so she figured someone must have been thorough and cleaned this area at some point in the morning.
“Hi,” a second voice, a female one this time, said. A woman was coming out of the same place the blonde barman had recently disappeared into, and he was right behind her. “I understand you wanted to speak with me? I’m the manager.”
“Are there any other staff here on site today?” Laura asked.
“No, I’m afraid not,” the manager said, coming closer to shake both of their hands and then sitting down in one of the curved armchairs. “We have a cleaner who does early mornings, but she’s already gone home.”
“That’s alright,” Nate said. “If you could take a seat, too…?”
The blonde barman, obviously missing the invitation to tell them his name, nodded hastily and sat in the chair.
“We’re doing a routine follow-up on a couple of cold cases that are linked to this bar,” Laura said. “It happens every now and then when we review the files to try to keep the cases going. I wanted to ask you some questions about a couple of women who disappeared from here.”
The barman and the manager exchanged wide-eyed, startled looks.
“Really?” the manager burst out. She had dark hair cut into a bob which wobbled slightly with her every movement. “I haven’t heard about anything like that!”
“This was a while back,” Laura said quickly. “Four years ago, and two years ago.”
Both of their faces cleared up. “I’ve only been here for just under two years,” the manager said.
“Six months for me,” the blonde barman said.
“We have a pretty high staff turnover,” the manager clarified. “It’s quite often college kids or just people who desperately need a job and will take anything. Sooner or later, they get a better offer, even if it’s just a bar closer into town so they don’t have to travel so far every day.”
“That’s a shame,” Laura said. “Is there anyone on staff right now who has been around for that long?”
The manager shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”
Nate frowned. “You don’t have to go and look at your records?”
“I’m the longest-serving member of staff right now,” she said. “That’s how I got the manager gig.”
“Right.” Laura sighed. This was turning into a bit of a headache. If there was a chance for these two to warn anyone that the FBI were coming to talk to them, then they would lose the element of surprise completely, just as she had been afraid earlier. “Then, can we look at your employee records and see who would have been working on the dates in question?”
“I don’t see why not,” the manager said. “I’ll just go get them.” She got up even as she was speaking and quickly disappeared back into the staff area, leaving Laura and Nate with the blonde barman.
There was a moment of awkward silence.
“So, you said women disappeared?” he said, picking at the rip in the knee of his gray-black jeans and looking concerned.
“Two,” Nate replied. “Actually, they were found. Murdered. Both of them.”
The blonde barman’s eyebrows shot up. “Woah,” he said. “That’s, like. Awful.”
“Very much so,” Laura agreed. “You haven’t heard of anyone being murdered around her in more recent times, have you?”
