“You mind if I scoot in? I have something I want to run past you.”

“Can’t wait,” he said.

“See you shortly.”

My office was two blocks from the police department so I walked, maps in tow. Anxiety stirred in my gut. When it came right down to it, I was selling air and sunshine, a theory with nothing concrete to back it up. This put me in the same position Michael Sutton had been in, on the same shaky ground. The pieces fit together, but where was the glue? Michael’s claims had been shot out from under him, and now here I was, reconfiguring the facts without a shred of proof.

I went into the lobby at the station and waited for Cheney to come out and accompany me to his cubicle. He looked especially handsome that day—expensive loafers, dark slacks, and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. On anyone else it would have been standard office attire, but Cheney came from money and I knew what he paid for clothes.

He sat me down and since his time was limited, I had no choice but to launch into my pitch. I wasn’t even halfway through the spiel and I could tell by his expression he wasn’t buying it. He heard me out, but I was losing confidence with every passing breath. Nothing like telling a story with passion and conviction while the guy on the receiving end is so clearly skeptical.

“Interesting,” he said. “I can see where you’re coming from, but what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, Cheney. Think about it, I guess. I went to high school with these guys . . .”

He held a hand up. “I’m not saying you’re wrong. What I’m saying is there’s not enough to act on. I can’t bring either one of those guys in for a chat. Based on what? Speculation and guesswork and all of it circumstantial. Is there any reason to think Corso or McNally even knew the Fitzhughs or the Unruhs?”

“Deborah Unruh says Greg and Shelly smoked grass constantly. She knows there were at least two dopers who hung out with them. She never actually saw them, but someone supplied the weed and Walker was a dealer, or so I heard.”

“So were half the kids in town. What about Greg and Shelly? Could they corroborate? Last I heard, they took off and haven’t been heard from since.”

“Both are dead. Tuesday, I talked to Shelly’s son and he says Greg died of an overdose in Canada and his mother died of AIDS,” I said. “It’s possible Shawn could identify the pair. He was just a kid at the time, but he’s a smart guy and a face is a face.”

“It doesn’t make a whit of difference if Walker sold dope to Shawn’s parents.”