If he weren't my best friend I'd have hated him.

But he wasn't perfect. He was too neat, too easy-going, and too generous. And his lack of confidence made him an easy target for Steve. The thing Steve kidded him most about was driving. It took Mike three tries to pass his driver's exam and he was still nervous behind the wheel. Steve, on the other hand, grew up on a farm, driving tractors since he could reach the pedals. He knew about cars like most guys knew about rock groups. By the time Mike got his license Steve had already totalled three cars, and in Steve's weird mind this just confirmed his driving superiority, though Richard had pointed out the flaw in this idea more than once.

But this May, Mike's parents, after sixteen years of over-protecting him, decided he should drive up and visit his grandparents in Michigan in June. If he could get his driver's license before then ...

So yesterday, a Wednesday in June, at 2:30 sharp, we met Mike in Burger Queen's parking lot to see him off. He was standing beside his dad's old blue Maverick.

"Do you even know where the interstate is?" Steve asked.

Mike just smiled, his blue eyes squinting in the sun. Today he didn't mind Steve's jokes. He was headed for adventure.

"This'll keep you from getting bored." I reached into the back of Richard's car and pulled out Richard's battery operated cassette player, and a package.

"Cool!" He read the package label: "'My Favorite Murders: The Adventures of Detective Hawkins of the NYPD, on 4 Audio Tapes'." He grinned at us. "Thanks, guys."

"The tape player has new batteries," Richard said. "Do you have money for dinner?"

"Plenty."

"And your map?"

Mike nodded. "Hey, it's I-75 all the way. Even I can handle it."

"You'll be fine," Steve said. He punched Mike's shoulder lightly.

"Thanks again for looking over my car, Steve."

"No sweat. I'll turn you into a mechanic if it kills me."

"Five and a half hours, man," I said. "You better get started."

Steve shook his head, grinning, as Mike pulled out of the lot. "He'll never make it."

...

What bothered me was that Steve had turned out to be right.

"So where did they find the car?" I asked Richard.

"Lima, Ohio--"

"--bean capital of the civilized world--" Steve interjected.

"Shut up," Richard barked. "Lima, Ohio. The car was found on a state highway, so the case is in the jurisdiction of state police. They've searched the car and the area in which it was found."

"Find anything?"

"Nothing conclusive. But Doug told me one thing that was interesting. The officer who discovered the car wrote in his report that the interior smelled like cigarette smoke. The ashtray had just been cleaned, with a trace amount of ash remaining."

"Mike's parents don't smoke." I didn't have to add that Mike didn't. "Was Lima on his way?"

"It's just off the interstate, if that's what you're asking. He could have stopped there for gasoline or dinner." He looked into the rear view mirror. "Steve, what is the capacity of the gasoline tank in Michael's car?"

"14 gallons. 15 miles a gallon."

"Does Michael have any girlfriends in Lima, Ohio?"

"Only if he'd been there once." I wasn't kidding. "Far as I know he hasn't."

"Summer camp? Family trips?"

I shook my head.

Steve turned up the radio again. Over the next few minutes, he and Richard waged a cold war over volume and style, grand opera versus Grand Funk.

At a rest stop in Ohio I bought a newspaper.

"Here's an easy one for you," I told them, after a few miles. "'Two escapees of Fremont Prison in northeast Ohio have been apprehended after remaining at large for four days. A third remains unaccounted for. Authorities identify the missing man as Bud Worden, currently serving ten years for armed robbery and manslaughter.' Since we can't figure out where Mike is maybe we could call the police and solve this one for 'em."

"One mistake," Richard said. "Bud Worden isn't currently serving time for anything."

"It's simple," Steve said. "How could a guy with a name like Worden stand to be in jail? Everybody would think he was in charge. Probably stressed him out."

"An infringement of his civil liberties," Richard agreed. For Richard, that's a joke. "Michael's parents will be driving up soon. They have to make arrangements for Regina." Gina was Mike's little sister, who adored him. "I told them to not worry. And to give us two days."

I leaned back in the seat, intending to nap. But I couldn't stop wondering if Gina would see her brother again.

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