Decker described Byron Howard, Rolland Mason. The clerk said he wasn’t sure, but as best he remembered, both those men didn’t sound like the man she was with. Decker thanked him and hung up.

A washout.

Ten minutes later, Decker dialed up the Shell station Linda had used. Maybe one of the pump boys remembered Linda and her anonymous beau. The man who answered the line identified himself as Grains. Decker started his pitch, mentioning Linda Darcy, and received an immediate unexpected reaction. Grains became defensive, dropped his voice to a whisper and asked, What about Linda?

Bingo!

Decker pressed on. Grains’s voice became edgier and edgier. Finally, Decker announced he was coming down to pay Grains a visit. Grains pleaded for a half-hour delay. He owned the station, one of his men was out sick, and he was up to his neck in work. Decker agreed to the grace period, and they arranged to meet at the McDonald’s across the street from the service station in thirty minutes.

Grains was sitting at a corner table when Decker walked in. The service-station owner had a long face, sparse blond hair, bulging blue eyes, and callused hands with nails full of grease. He seemed to be around forty, thin, with a prominent Adam’s apple that bobbed whenever he swallowed. He was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt with the name Jim embroidered in red thread over the breast pocket. Decker sat down in the chair next to him. Grains didn’t bother to look up.

“This is my only break.” He was on his second Quarter-Pounder with Cheese. Besides the burgers were two salads, two helpings of fries, and a chocolate shake. “Let’s get this over and done with.”

“Get what over and done with?” Decker said.

Grains regarded Decker and sighed. He ran his hand over his face. “You’re a real cop, right? Not some snoop from a private agency?”

Decker took out his badge and showed it to him. Grains seemed to relax a little. Decker said, “Why did you think I’m a private investigator?”

“I thought maybe my wife found out.” Grains chomped on his sandwich. “Maybe I’m still a little paranoid. A lot paranoid. After all, I haven’t seen Linda for over six months.”

“How’d the affair start?” Decker asked.