One more missin’ person was the last straw. I broke every speed record set in Boone County gettin’ back to my office, an’ by the time I pulled up in front of the town hall, I’d called Martha to have her check with the Boones an’ her good old girl network for the missin’ girl. Nina was the only one in the post office when I stomped in.
“Where’s Angie?”
“Well, good mornin’ to you, too, Homer.”
“Angie.”
“I left her home today, bein’ as how our back room is still occupied so she cain’t lie down or use the facilities. Tole her I’d give her two dollars a hour to keep a eye on Grandpa.”
“That the truth?”
Nina looked insulted an’ disgusted. “I ain’t even gonna dignify that with—What’s wrong?”
“She run off an’ took Grandpa’s twenty-gauge with her.”
“Oh, shit!”
“My words exactly. Where would she’a gone?”
“Back home?”
“I checked. They said no.”
“Well.” Nina frowned. “How far could she git with no wheels?”
“She prob’ly hitchhiked.”
“With a twenty-gauge?”
“You’re right. She prob’ly just hijacked a ride.”
“This ain’t no time for jokin’, Homer.”
“Who said I was?”
Then Nina changed the subject suddenly. “When’s that fella gonna get his cat outta my back room?”
“Doc said they’d let him out tomorrow.”
“Good, ’cause that room’s gettin’ pretty ripe.” She must’ve noticed I was gettin’ a bit put out, ’cause she added, “Don’t worry, Homer. She’ll turn up.”
I went back to the office an’ called Martha back, after which I called the reverends Elroy an’ Burton, Father Ernie, Lucy at Motel Six, Merlin at Best Buy, Charity Nonesuch at the Truck Stop, an’ the manager at Saveway. Nobody’d seen Angie Boone. Naturally I called the state cops next, to put out a All Points Bulletin. I gave the dispatcher a description an’ said, “She’s wanted for grand larceny an’ she’s armed. Might even be dangerous.”
“You been having quite a few missing persons down there in Boone County, wouldn’t you say, Deputy? What do you attribute that to?”
“Alien abductions. Sergeant Underhill around?”
“Sure thing.”
Dan was chucklin’ when he come on the line, so I guessed the dispatcher must’ve shared my alien theory with him. “Deputy Deters,” Underhill said, “I was just fixin’ to call you ’bout that last set of prints. I got some good news and some bad news.”
“I’m all ears.”
“The good news is, one of that last set of prints you sent in matches one we found in the Escort you pulled outta the ravine. Bad news—none of the prints you came up with so far is on file anywhere. But when you find a suspect, you got a good start on makin’ a case.”
“What about the finger I sent? You get a match on that?”
“I was wonderin’ when you’d get around to askin’.”
“I ain’t s’posed to have to ask. You’re s’posed to call an’ tell me if you found somethin’ out.”
“Well, ATF asked me to keep it quiet.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“You got a point. Seems your victim was an ATF agent—one George Arnold.”
“Well, what do you know?”
“Sounds like you knew him.”
“Only his ghost, mebbe. He’s one of the persons I been missin’ of late.”
“You think all these missin’ persons are connected?”
“You think the Pope’s Catholic?”
“When you get it all doped out, let me know. It has the beginnings of a heck of a tale.”