"Detective Doug Burroughs," Richard said. Pause. "Yes, Doug. This is Richard Griffin. We have decided to take your advice and return home."

This time I couldn't hear Doug, but Richard filled in Doug's part of the conversation for me later.

"My advice?" Doug repeated. "I just said--"

"The expedition has been a complete failure, Doug. It was difficult for me to accept that. However, in the end I realized you were correct. We will all, I suppose, have to bear the responsibility of Michael's loss--"

"Wait just a minute. I never said ... What do you mean, loss?"

"I know you've tried to soften the blow but we're old enough to realize the significance of Michael's absence. You were correct. There are simply too many possibilities to investigate and you are far too busy to check on leads suggested by teenagers ..."

Doug seemed to struggle with the urge to cuss Richard out. "Poop!" he said, finally. "You don't have to come home. You can help Mike's folks when they get to Lima."

"Indeed, that occurred to me. It also occurred to me that our continued presence would only serve to underscore our futility here and thus increase their despair in this time of grief. No, Doug, there is simply no point in our remaining if the fruits of our investigations cannot or will not be utilized. You will handle this responsibility better than we, I'm sure, with your wider experience ..."

Doug took a deep breath. "All right, I'll do it, you little lawyer. Now stay at that phone booth!"

"Doug?"

"What!"

"One half hour."

Doug hung up.

Back in the car, Richard spread out a map of Ohio. "Observe," he said. "Michael stops in Findlay for gas and at exit 159 picks up Bud Worden, who is hitchhiking, having obtained a sleeping bag and change of clothes from the pawn shop owner he murdered that morning. Sometime later Worden reveals the gun he has with him and orders Michael to take the next exit, 171, at Cygnet. Michael shuts off the tape player. Sometime later, Bud Worden drives Michael's car, alone, to Ann Arbor, Michigan. There he mails a ransom note to Michael's parents. He then drives south to Lima, Ohio and abandons the car when it runs out of gas. If you add up the mileage between these points you'll find it almost matches the mileage added to Mike's car, leaving only about fifteen miles unaccounted for. Most of those missing miles must have taken place in Cygnet, and it was somewhere in Cygnet that Bud Worden obtained still another set of clothes to prevent him from being linked to the pawn shop. And it was in Cygnet that he left Michael. After abandoning the car he moved southeast to Kenton, where he was apprehended in a K-Mart attempting to shoplift."

"Why'd he do something so dumb after all that?"

"Because he's not the brain of the operation."

"I know how he feels," Steve said.

"There is at least one other person involved. Someone Bud Worden knew in Cygnet, whom he felt he could trust to assist him in his escape. And, possibly, in a kidnapping. That's where Michael is now: with that second person or persons."

"But now that Worden is in custody..."

"Yes. When the accomplice realizes that, Michael is in grave danger."

I thought of that kid, delivering newspapers ...

A girl, about my age, approached the phone booth. On another day I would have offered her a dime. Maybe my whole wallet.

"Go away!" Steve and I shouted. "Busy! Go away!" We scrambled out of the car, waving our arms.

She fled.

"No wonder my love life stinks," Steve said.

The telephone rang.

© Copyright David T. Jarvis 1997, 1998, 1999