Nowhere To Run by Carolyn Davidson Read Free Book Online Page B

this person might have been?” Emily squinted behind her sunglasses as if to better discern whether the girl’s wide eyed bewilderment was genuine.
    “I have no idea. I mean, I wondered who it could be. But our teachers were either ladies or really old, and I never saw Sarah talking to any other boys except Tommy. She wasn’t really a party girl. It was like I asked her to come sky diving if I suggested we meet up at the student pub. But that was just Sarah; like I said, she kept to herself.”
    A stream of backpacked students began filing past them towards the nursing building’s doors, and Stephanie shifted the books in her arms restlessly. “Okay Stephanie.” Emily decided that Stephanie’s artlessness was just that. “Thank you for your time.”

 
    Chapter 7
     
    Susan kept her finger on the fast forward button as the images of Donaldson’s crew setting up their camera equipment scuttled across the screen. Ginny’s camera began a slow, three hundred and sixty degree pan, and Susan returned the film to its normal speed.
    The camerawoman captured the girl Susan had been interviewing leaving the station, and shortly after Susan’s own image appeared, running a hand through her errant hair before positioning herself at the microphone set up in front of the station’s entrance stairs. Ginny retraced the circle and Susan slowed the tape to study the faces of the crowd watching the interview. Sarah’s sister Elizabeth was there, as well as a number of Sarah’s school friends and their parents. Susan made note of the faces she recognized as well as those she would find names for, including a scruffy looking middle aged man and a teenage boy she wanted identified stat. Mr. Logan was in attendance, and the girl she had been interviewing prior to the interview, Trudy, had stayed to watch.
    Susan paused the film as the call she had been waiting on hold for picked up. “David Ankor.” The voice clipped its consonants with the clear message that there was no time to be wasted on idle greetings.
    “Inspector Susan Kovalsky,” Susan answered in suit. “I need to ask you some questions about a former colleague of yours, Terry Harmon.”
    A pause was followed by an intake of breath between teeth.
    “Okay, give me a minute.” There was a click while the phone was put back on hold, and Susan was left again in the silent no man’s land of an empty line. At least he’s spared me the requisite mind numbing easy listening music, Susan thought, drawing tight circles on the blank page in front of her.
    The other end picked up and the Ankor’s voice returned, slightly less rushed in tone, just as guarded in meaning, Susan reflected, if she was any judge.
    “I’m all yours,” David Ankor stated. “Ask away”.
    “I’d like you to fill me in on what went on with Terry at the company. What led to his departure.”
    “What went on,” David laughed without humour. “What went on is Terry swindled a bunch of clients out of their savings. Convinced them he had a one man lead on a high-return, low-risk investment strategy. Sent phony investment reports when they started to get antsy, the whole shebang. It was a mess.”
    “I don’t work in white collar,” Susan frowned as she asked what seemed to be the obvious question. “But that all sounds pretty illegal. How is it Terry managed to run off to the countryside instead of winding up doing time in prison?”
    “He was good at covering his tracks,” David responded. Susan could hear the patter of a keyboard in the background and figured her time allotment had been filled and Ankor was now multitasking. “Plus the clients he was dealing with were small potatoes. No documentation, just a few senior citizens crying, ‘he promised me this, he promised me that.’ It was easy enough to prove he was a bad broker, but no one actually nailed him as a criminal. We settled with a few, the others pretty much disappeared.”
    Susan shook her head. “I’ll need you to supply