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They both pulled their badges. “We need some information on one of your active patrons, Amanda Elsworth,” Roth said.
“Amanda?” she repeated with big eyes. “Why? Her brother’s the Sheriff you know.”
“Brother, huh?” Jackson repeated. “Try again.”
“I, I don’t understand,” she stammered.
“Are you usually here on Thursdays when Amanda comes in?” Roth asked.
“Yes, I’m here every Thursday.”
“And what about Penny Weston? Is she here on Thursdays?” Jackson asked.
“Penny? Why are you asking about Penny?”
“What’s your name?” Roth asked, leaning over the table top towards her. He flashed her his best smile.
“Melissa, Melissa Zellar.” She returned his smile and leaned in towards him as well, probably unconsciously.
“Melissa, we want to help Amanda. We’re not looking to jam her up for anything. We’re worried about her and think very few people here actually know much about her. You see her every week. You have to know her better than most.”
“Well, yeah, I guess so, but I really don’t know her well. She pretty much keeps to herself, doesn’t participate in anything in town, even in the summer when all of us are out on the lakes, she’s not around much. Her brother said she isn’t too social, is a real introvert. But she seems tight with Penny. Penny volunteers here a few days a week. She’s due for a shift in about an hour.”
“That’s good to know. Thank you, Melissa,” Roth said with that same smile, his eyes locked onto hers. “I’ll see you later.” Yes, he knew he was being a flirt, but had judged it would get him more info out of her.
The two men left, with Walgreens being their next destination. They’d swing back to the library and wait in the parking lot for Penny Weston to arrive. They’d confront her outside. Inside the pharmacy, they found the same small-town friendliness as in the grocery store. The pharmacist was guarded and barely admitted to knowing Amanda Elsworth. He wouldn’t confirm the monthly pickup of medication, which Brielle had discovered was Synthroid for a low thyroid.
The clerk at the front of the store was more forthcoming with information on Amanda and she didn’t even ask why they were inquiring about her. “Yes, Amanda comes in regularly to pick up her prescription. I don’t know what it’s for, maybe some kind of medication for depression,” she said. “She and her brother frequent the diner just off the interstate in Augusta. My mom works there. All the local cops drop in almost daily, so she knows them both well, too. Darren Elsworth is one of my mom’s favorite customers.”
“Why do you think it’s medication for depression?” Jackson asked.
“I guess I hope it is. And if not, she needs some. I don’t know her well, but I’ve never seen a sadder person. I don’t know what happened to her or to her husband, but I hear something bad did that she’s not over yet. The one thing I do know is that life obviously hasn’t been good to her.”
Roth was very much bothered by her statements for several reasons. Amanda Elsworth had lived in this town for several years and if what they were being told was true, she wasn’t actually friends with many people. She was described as being an odd bird, sad, introverted, and someone who kept to herself. In what appeared to be an otherwise friendly town, Amanda Elsworth was the outlier, and it seemed like no one had reached out to her to see if she was okay or offer her support or help.
“Thank you for talking to us. Please do not tell anyone about our conversation,” Jackson said. “We’ll be heading to Augusta, to the Sheriff’s office to talk with him shortly.
“Sure, no problem,” she said. But the second they had left the store; she called her mom to tell her about the two men and their questions. From her vantage point, she saw them drive over to and park in the library’s lot. She also relayed this information to her mother.
Roth and Jackson waited for nearly twenty minutes for Penny Weston to arrive. Roth voiced his thoughts on Amanda Elsworth’s situation. He found it incredibly sad that she lived the way she had and wondered if anyone would miss her now that she was gone.
They met Penny by the side of her car as she pulled herself from behind the steering wheel. She still wore the same hat and coat and Roth had to wonder if she was color blind. He never met a woman who didn’t care if her clothing matched.
“There’s nothing else I can tell you about Amanda,” she complained as soon as she saw them.
“Why don’t you start by telling us the truth,” Jackson said. “We know you and Amanda were closer than you admitted to earlier when we talked to you.”
“You didn’t just do your grocery shopping on the same day, you shopped together,” Roth said. “And you were here at the library together every week, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if you walked together during the day while Darren and your husband were at work. Come on, Penny. Amanda needs your help.”
“Amanda is fine,” she snapped. “Now please, stop bothering me or I’m going to call the police.”
Jackson laughed. “You’re kidding us, right?”
“Penny, we’re federal law enforcement. You do understand the pecking order between local, state and federal authorities, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure who sicked you on Amanda, but she’s not involved in anything illegal!”
“I told you, she’s not in trouble. We’re worried about her,” Roth said.