I headed straight to my brother’s house, north of Milton. He always said he liked some distance between work and home. A different set of cops got to harass him. The house and detached garage sat off a long gravel driveway that entered directly onto Route 9. The place was rented, of course, with no neighbors close by.

I didn’t see any cars but went to the front door anyway and pounded like I was the lead member of a SWAT team. No answer. He didn’t pick up his cell when I called, either. Was he avoiding me? If he was, it was the most common sense he’d shown in a long time.

I came back down to Marlboro and started thinking how crazy it was that my quiet little town had gone off the rails in the last few days. I had to find out why. I would go on the offensive and nothing could stop me.

The search for Bailey Mae started again with a vengeance. I was asking questions about her at the businesses up and down Route 9, showing them the photo of the three strangers that Mabel had taken.

I worked my way all the way down to Newburgh before I found a barber who didn’t know anything about Bailey Mae but thought he had trimmed the hair of one of the men in the photo. He said it was just a touch-up on a crew cut. Similar to a military style. The older man had never seen the customer before or since, and the man was alone when he came in to get the trim. That was three days ago.

I stopped at a gas station on North Plank Road, just before it met Route 9, to fill up. I knew the doofus working at the station was one of my brother’s regular pot customers. I almost didn’t say anything to the gangly twenty-year-old with greasy hair that hung down into his face.

He came out of the station and walked up to me at the pump. “Hey, Mitchum. Where’s your brother?”

“Why?” I knew the reason.

“I’m low on weed and someone said he had a new shipment this morning.”

I shook my head and couldn’t believe how open people were about doing something illegal. I didn’t care about pot use; it just annoyed me how much money my brother made doing something that was against the law.

“You heard about my cousin, Bailey Mae?”

He nodded his head. “Natty was by here asking about her yesterday. I haven’t seen her.”

I held up my phone. “What about any of these three?”

He took a second to study the photo then surprised me by saying, “Yeah, I’ve seen them a couple times. All three of them were in a dark SUV.”

“When was the last time you saw them?”

“Yesterday afternoon.”

Chapter 15

Chapter 15