Say Goodbye

“I got some friends there I can call,” Duff offered. “They are the eyes and ears of the mountains, so to speak.”

“So,” Sal murmured between pursed lips. “We can distribute our flyer to some of the local establishments, see if we get any hits. Then strike up a dialogue with the USFS and USGS folks.”

“You know, between Sheriff Wyatt and myself, we got quite a crew. Most of our deputies would be happy to assist with something other than the normal naughty tourist or punch-drunk high schooler. Wyatt’ll be back by the end of the week. I’ll debrief him, then we’ll both take a crack at it.”

“I don’t want the subject spooked,” Sal stated. “Priority at this point is to find the girls and/or their remains. Then we go after Dinchara.”

“Dinachara?” Duff frowned. “Thought you said you didn’t have a name.”

“It’s an alias. An anagram for arachnid.”

“Say what?”

“You know, arachnid, as in spiders.”

“I know arachnid, son. I’m just not sure what a grown man is doing naming himself after a bug.”

“Catching prey,” Kimberly said quietly. “Except for one. Sal, tell him about Gi

It was after six by the time they left Duff. Most of the stores were closed, but they managed to find Wylie’s Restaurant and show off the sketch. No one recognized the drawing, but the manager promised to keep her eye out. Sal handed her his card, then they were on their way.

Next up was the Smith House, once a grand private residence, now a recently renovated hotel, country store, and restaurant. The lobby smelled like buttermilk biscuits and candied yams. That was enough for Kimberly.

“Di

Rainie and Quincy were game. Sal, who’d already dined on fried chicken, merely shrugged. “I can always eat.”

Food was served family style. They paid a flat fee to the girl working the cash register in the lobby. She gave them tickets to take downstairs to the dining hall, where they would be served all the fried chicken, baked ham, roast beef, dumplings, okra, steamed vegetables, and homemade rolls they could stand. No alcohol, but unlimited iced tea and lemonade.

At the bottom of the stairs, they discovered the entranceway to a twenty-foot mining shaft. All Kimberly could see was a deep black hole, barricaded with Plexiglas. Didn’t seem that exciting, but Quincy and Rainie lingered long enough to watch the video documenting its discovery.

A red-cheeked waitress found Kimberly and Sal two seats next to a family of six. They met Grandma and Grandpa, Mom and Dad, and four-year-old twin boys. The twins ran laps around the table, while the very tired mother shot Kimberly a wan smile and said, “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not a problem,” Kimberly assured, and then patted her own stomach.

The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh, is it your first?”

“Yep.”

“You and your husband must be very excited.” She shot Sal a smile.

He froze with his hand on the bowl of peas. “What?”

“I’m very happy,” Kimberly told the woman. “At least at the moment.”

The woman laughed. “Yes, ma’am, that’s the way it is. Is it a girl or boy? Do you know?”

“No, we want to be surprised.”

“So did we,” the woman said. “And boy, were we. If I could offer one bit of advice?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t have twins.”

Rainie and Quincy arrived and made their introductions. Rainie dug into the fried okra with gusto. Quincy picked his way delicately through the steamed vegetables and baked ham.

The smell of meat didn’t bother Kimberly as much as it had yesterday. Another phase ending? A new phase begi

She’d forgotten about the sketch until the waitress returned with refills of iced tea.

“Oh, is he a friend of yours as well?” the waitress asked, gesturing at Kimberly’s open bag.

“Who?”

“The man in that picture. We used to see him in here all the time. With his boy, of course. Those teenagers, my Lord, they can eat.”

Sal stopped chewing. He held a drumstick suspended between his greasy hands, staring at the sketch, the woman, the sketch again.

Kimberly recovered first. “You know him?”

“I recognize him. In the fall he came in quite often. About yay-high, right? Not real big, but strong looking. Has some muscle to him. And always wearing that cap, even when at the table.” The waitress shook her head. “I tell you, in my day, my grandmother would’ve ta

“His name?”

“Oh um…” She bit her lower lip, cradling the pitcher of iced tea on her hip, thinking. “Bobby? Bob? Rob? Ron? Richard? You know, I can’t remember now. I’m not sure he said.”

“What about the boy?” Kimberly pressed.

“Ski

“And the boy’s name?”

Again the waitress shook her head. “You know, some folks come here because they’re feeling social, they like to introduce themselves and strike up a friendly conversation. Others…hey, they just come for the okra. Who are we to judge?”

“Do you remember how the man paid?” Rainie spoke up, following the conversation intently.

“Sorry, ma’am, that would’ve been taken care of upstairs.”

“But if he paid with a credit card…” Kimberly murmured, following Rainie’s train of thought.

“We need to speak to the manager,” Sal a

The other family was aflutter now. “Is everything all right? Who is this fellow? Anything we should know?”

All eyes were on Sal. Even the twins had stopped ru

She didn’t need any encouragement. They made a beeline for the manager’s office.

Turned out going through all the credit card receipts would take some time. They needed to provide more specifics. Date, time, amount? The waitress was summoned to see if she could recall an exact date. She thought the man and his son had come in half a dozen times between September and November. With a bit of prodding, she narrowed one of the visits to sometime over the Columbus Day weekend. The amount would be for two people, late in the evening, the waitress believed. She had been surprised the boy was allowed out at that hour.

Credit card receipts were not computerized. Instead, the manager pulled open a file drawer, organized by month. Turned out the Smith House was a popular choice for lodging and meals. Particularly Columbus Day weekend.

Kimberly returned to the dining hall to find her father and Rainie and deliver the happy news.

“Manager needs some time to sort the records, so guess what, folks? We’re spending the night!”