Thursday, September 11, 1997
I was sleeping when I remembered the accent. It’d been 4 days since I’d been able to sleep and finally, with the help of some bourbon, I’d dozed off. When I woke up, the first thing I thought was: The guy who tried to buy drugs from Dani had a funny accent.
I knew the perfect person to turn to with this information. Not only did Aunt Li own the local hangout, but she was also the town’s Gossip. She knew everything about everyone and if there was a guy from out of town hanging around, she’d know about it.
“Sure Merry,” she told me. “I remember that guy. He asked me for some ‘cawfee.’ And there’s only one place where people speak like that.” New York. Dani was trying to sell Adderall to a guy from New York. And if there was a “Damn Yankee” in town, other people must have noticed him, too.
“Was this man at the shop on Sunday night?”
“There’s a but in your voice-”
“Meredith, this is not the time to be inappropriate.”
“I wasn’t. I – that came out wrong. I just meant – it looked like you were holding back, there was something else you wanted to say, maybe?”
“I wasn’t working that night…”
“But one of my servers…She says Caleb Mitchell was here Sunday night.”
“That doesn’t – that’s not…”
“I know he’s your friend, Merry, but you’ve known him – what? – six years? In the big picture, that’s not very long.”
“Did she tell anyone? You server?” I asked.
“You know how it is, they’ve been coming around, asking if anyone knows anything.”
“How credible is she?”
“I’m friends with with her mother. I’ve known her since she was in diapers…Which is more than any one of us can say about Caleb Mitchell.”
And just like that, the townspeople had begun their case against Caleb Mitchell.