“Who can tell? Maybe he liked the warmth of the house and knew I’d be in and out of the car.” When we were kids, Natty and I loved The Simpsons. I would pretend to be Bart and Natty played Homer. It was a blast. I have no idea when we split. Probably in high school when he found an easy way to make a buck.

Natty made a quick scan of the area, then looked back at me and said, “What brings you down here?”

“Bailey Mae.” Then I held up my phone and asked, “You ever seen these three before?”

Natty studied the photograph and said, “There’ve been a few more strangers around lately, and maybe I saw these three around somewhere. Let me think about it some more.”

As I nodded and started to pull away, my brother reached in through the window and put his hand on my shoulder. “Be careful, little brother. This isn’t the Navy. There’s no telling who’s nuts. I’ll get back on Bailey Mae’s trail tomorrow. I have all of my associates out looking. We’ll find her.”

Maybe my brother had changed. At least that’s what I kept thinking as I spent another hour stopping at a couple places on the way back to Marlboro. Bailey Mae had vanished, and she had seen the Wilkses sometime before they were murdered. That didn’t leave me with a good feeling.

Once I was in Marlboro, I saw my cousin Todd and his wife out knocking on doors. It made me realize how grim things had turned in our little town. Everyone loved Bailey Mae. I had to stop the car at that thought and correct myself out loud. “Everyone loves Bailey Mae.”

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

It was after nine when I rolled up to the diner for a shot of coffee and a snack before going out again on the only case that mattered to me.

Before I even sat down, Walter, a middle-aged man from town, approached me.

He was nervous and always spoke fast. “Mitchum, Mitchum, got a second?”

I was too tired to answer. He took it as a yes. I rubbed my eyes as he blurted out, “I’ve got a job for you.”

All I could do was stare and let him finish his thought.

“My wife is gone. Missing. I think she’s in the city with her personal trainer. I can pay. Double your normal rate.”

I shook my head.

“Triple.”

In my head I thought, Triple of nothing is still nothing, but I said, “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

He turned and left the diner in a huff.

Now Mabel and I were alone. She actually sat in the booth with me, something she never did.

I said, “What are you still doing here?”