I went by a couple diners in Newburgh. They were bigger, impersonal places, and the people there didn’t know my cousin. They didn’t recognize the strangers on my phone. At the second diner, the waitress made me a turkey sandwich because she thought I looked tired and underfed. While I wolfed it down, she refocused her attention on the other tables, leaving me all alone.

As frustrated as I was, it was kinda nice being in Newburgh. It was bigger than our town, and it would be easier to go unnoticed there. That’s where I’d stay if I came to the area from somewhere else.

I got nothing from a couple of hotels on the main drag, so I stopped at one tucked off Windsor Highway, called the Red Letter Inn, an obvious nod to The Scarlet Letter and adultery. What a nice place.

The clerk barely looked up when I walked through the front door. He was about my age, but much heavier and not particularly chatty. He didn’t even grunt as I stepped up and stood by the counter. Behind him, a small TV played Family Feud.

Even after I cleared my throat, he didn’t acknowledge me. Then I held up a photo of Bailey Mae and said, “I was just wondering if you’ve seen this girl. She’s missing.”

The man looked up, scratched the three-day-old growth on his chin, and gave the photograph a cursory examination. His eyes shot up to meet mine briefly, and all he said was “Nope.”

I stood there, thinking of different ways to approach this idiot. I dug in my pocket and pulled out my phone, calling up the photograph of the strangers. As I held it up, the man said, “If you’re not checking in, you need to be on your way.”

I essentially ignored him as I held up the phone and said, “What about these three? Have you seen any of them?”

Now he lifted his head and gave me his full attention. “What do I look like to you? Lost and Found?”

He was big. An inch or two taller than me and at least eighty-five pounds heavier. But I was at the end of my rope. I had to dig deep to be polite as I kept the phone in position and said, “It’s really important. Have you seen any of these three people?”

But now he wouldn’t even look up.

I pulled a pizza flyer from the edge of the counter, flipped it over, and took a moment to write on it in tiny letters. I slid the flyer across the counter and said, “I guess you know this already.”

The big man glanced at the paper, then took a second to try and read it. The letters were so small he had to lean in close and put his head near the counter.