“Then why wasn’t he on his porch? The porch on his house is the only one in the complex big enough for four rockers. Mr. Lomax hung a bamboo blind lined with plastic that is on rollers so that Mr. Hershel can sit out on his porch in inclement weather. Before he did that, Mr. Hershel would wrap himself in an old shower curtain so he could sit out there. He doesn’t sleep nights, so he sits out there and smokes his pipe. He wasn’t there tonight. The rain, no matter how hard or bad, wouldn’t have bothered him. He was insulated. So why wasn’t he on the porch smoking his pipe?”

“I don’t know, Lionel. Maybe he’s under the weather. He is up there in years,” Nick said miserably.

“Mr. Hershel has never missed a night except during his rehab stint. I’ve been here over three years, and this is a first. I’m not liking this.”

“Should we walk over there and knock on his door?” Nick asked. “Or, since Dom is already out on patrol, he could go by and check on him.”

Lionel shook his head. “I think we should call Mr. Emery and see what he thinks. This might be over our paygrade. No sense getting Gentry Lomax all riled up. Suddenly, too many strange things are going on here. I’m starting to get spooked myself.”

“Why is Mr. Hershel so important all of a sudden?” Nick asked.

“Routine. Mr. Hershel is a man of invariable routine. He does not deviate. Do you know his story?”

“No! Remember, I joined up with you guys only ten months ago. Tell me.”

“Mr. Hershel likes it when you call him Pete. He and his wife, Donna, Mr. Hershel calls her Dolly, owned a ticky-tacky casino downtown called Dolly’s Dandy Dollar Casino. Donna was a Vegas showgirl back in the day. She performed for the clientele every night, and the customers loved it. They made so much money, the big dogs started sniffing around, wanting him to invest in a big casino like the one Mr. Wynn owns. He got involved, then Dolly got sick, and a week later the whole town turned out for her funeral. She was an institution.