The Night Stalker

Ninety-Five

Hunter left Chief Cooper’s house by Lake Sonoma just before lunchtime, but he wasn’t ready to fly back to LA just yet. His mind was batting thoughts back and forth and he needed to organize them before moving on. He remembered driving past the city library on the way to the chief’s house. He decided to start there.

The building was a single-story structure that couldn’t even be compared to some of LA’s high-school libraries. Hunter parked in the adjacent lot, pulled the collar of his jacket tight against his neck and dashed to the entrance. The rain that had started earlier was still coming down.

The woman at the information desk lifted her eyes from her computer screen and smiled sympathetically as Hunter came through the door.

‘I guess you forgot your umbrella, huh?’

Hunter brushed the water off his hair and sleeves before smiling back. ‘I wasn’t expecting the heavens to open.’

‘Spring downpour. We’re famous for those over here. It’ll pass soon enough,’ she offered with a renewed smile and a couple of paper tissues.

‘Thanks.’ He took them and dried his forehead and hands.

‘I’m Rhonda, by the way.’

They shook hands.

‘I’m Robert.’

Rhonda was in her mid-twenties with short, spiky, black-dyed hair. Her face was ghostly pale and her make-up was one step short from being full goth.

‘So. .’ she said, fixing Hunter with her dark eyes. ‘What brings you to Healdsburg’s library? Actually, what brings you to Healdsburg at all?’

‘Research.’

‘Research? About Healdsburg’s wineries?’

‘No.’ Hunter thought for a second. ‘I guess I’m looking for an old school yearbook.’

‘A yearbook? An old friend, huh? From which school?’

Hunter paused. ‘How many schools are there in Healdsburg?’

Rhonda laughed. ‘It doesn’t look like you know much about this research of yours.’

Hunter agreed with a smile. ‘The truth is: I’m just trying to find a picture of a kid who lived here many years ago.’

‘A kid?’ Her expression changed to concern and she took a step back from the counter.

‘No, look, I’m a cop from Los Angeles,’ Hunter said, producing his badge. ‘Something that happened here twenty years ago has suddenly become of interest to us. I’m just trying to gather some information, that’s all. A picture would help.’

Rhonda studied the badge and then Hunter’s face. ‘Twenty years ago?’

‘That’s right.’

She hesitated for a beat. ‘So you must be talking about what happened to the Harpers. And if you’re looking for a picture of a kid, you must be talking about Andrew Harper.’

‘You knew him?’

She looked uncertain. ‘Sort of. I was only five when it happened. But he used to come to our house sometimes.’

‘Really? How come?’

‘We lived in the same street. He was friends with my brother.’

‘Does your brother still live here?’

‘Yep. He’s an accountant and runs his own practice in town. You probably drove past his office on your way here.’

‘Do you think I could have a chat with him?’

Another hesitant moment.

‘Whatever information he can give me might help a lot,’ Hunter pushed.

Rhonda regarded Hunter for a second longer.

‘I don’t see why not.’ She checked her watch. ‘I’ll tell you what. It’s coming up to my lunch break. Why don’t I take you there and introduce you to him?’