“We do a good business on the Fourth,” he affirms. “Summers are always busy, especially on a holiday.”

“Locals or weekend people?” I ask.

“Both.”

“You know most of the people who come in?”

Sid tips his head, chews a toothpick. “Most.”

I had read over the statements the sheriff sent me. The investigation looked pretty thorough. “You didn’t see anyone who was paying undue attention to Annalise?” She was an attractive young woman. Blond wavy hair, a nice smile.

Sid shakes his head. “Annalise and Lyle used to come in once a week at least. Usually Saturday night. I didn’t see anyone bothering her. Most people know her.”

I glance at the sheriff. “You definitely eliminated the boyfriend?”

Sid answers, “It wasn’t Lyle.”

“How do you know?”

“He worshiped the ground she walked on. He wanted to get married.”

“What were they fighting about?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Same old stuff. She wanted to move. See some of the country, but Lyle’s a real hometown boy. He wasn’t interested in that.”

“So emotions ran high?”

Sid shakes his head. “Lyle wouldn’t hurt a fly and especially not Annalise. He’s devastated.”

The sheriff clears his throat. “We’re pretty sure it wasn’t him, Detective.”

“It wasn’t a townie,” Sid says. He picks up a rag and starts wiping the bar.

“What makes you say that?”

He stops his cleaning, looks up. His gaze meets mine. “Everybody loved Annalise. We all would’ve protected her.”

You can feel the hurt this woman’s disappearance has had on him and the sheriff as well, like a heavy cloud before a thunderstorm. You get the feeling that Mountclair is a tight-knit community. “She left sometime around one a.m.? Said she was going to walk home?” I ask.

“Yes. It’s not too far, but the road between here and there is through the woods, not too many people out that way,” Sid says. “But there’s a lot of traffic in the summer. People up from the cities looking to cool off. Outsiders looking for a good time.”

We follow the sheriff out the door and get in his vehicle. I’d asked to see where Annalise was abducted, so we set off along the two-lane road. We turn a corner, and I see what Sid means. There are woods on both sides of the road. There’s literally nothing out here. Not a good place for a woman to be walking alone at night.

“Where’s her house?” I ask Sheriff Skinner.

“Up this way about another half mile.”

“What else is up this road?”

“Nothing much until you get over the mountain. There’s a good bit of traffic, though, between here and Anderson, the town on the other side. There’s a turnoff to another road about halfway that heads straight up the mountain.”

“Who would access that road? What’s up there?”

“Half-dozen houses. Weekend places mostly.”