Page 23 of Long Gone

“Thanks,” I said as I grabbed the glass, resisting the urge to gulp down half the mug.

“You startin’ a tab?” she asked.

“Yeah, and add Louise and Nate’s drinks to it. I got my first paycheck and I owe Louise a drink or twenty.”

Misti grinned. “Got it.”

Heading over to the booth, I glanced around the room. It was an old habit of assessing for threats, and it didn’t die easily. I’d noticed Louise do the same thing on more than one occasion.

Louise scooted over when I reached the table, and I slid in next to her. “You owe me a story,” she said, bright-eyed. “What were you doin’ at the sheriff’s office?”

“First things first—I’m buying the drinks tonight. This is a celebration.”

“Getting your first paycheck?” Louise asked.

“That too.” I paused and glanced at each of them. “I did something a couple of weeks ago that I didn’t tell either of you about.”

Louise’s eyes danced with excitement. “You joined Tinder!” She didn’t seem to notice Nate flinch.

“No,” I said adamantly. “I definitely did not join Tinder.” I drew a breath. “When I was in Little Rock a couple of weeks ago, I sat for the Arkansas P.I. exam. And I passed.”

“You did?” Louise squealed.

“I should hope you’d pass,” Nate said dryly, but a grin tugged at the corners of his lips.

“So you’re quitting your father’s firm?” Louise asked.

“No. Not exactly. One of the partners asked me to look into the disappearance of a businessman from five years ago. Hugo Burton. Ever heard of him?”

Louise considered it, then shook her head. “I was busy enough dealing with the crime in Little Rock. I sure as hell wasn’t paying attention to what was going on in Lone County. Hell, five years ago, I didn’t even know Lone County existed.”

“You didn’t know the geography of your own state?” Nate asked with a laugh.

“Do you know every county in the state?” she countered.

Nate lifted his beer bottle and lifted it to his lips. “Point taken.”

“So why are you lookin’ into this guy?” Louise asked.

“The sheriff’s department investigated his disappearance, but they never came up with anything conclusive. They think he ran off, which seems plausible. But his wife insists he’d never have left her and the kids.”

Louise grunted, then picked up her beer, saying dryly, “That’s what they always say.”

“Yeah, I know, but Clarice Burton thinks her husband was murdered, and Detective Jones says he’s no longer so sure that’s not a possibility.”

Louise’s eyes grew wide. “He actually admitted that?”

“I was just as surprised as you are. He said the man seemed to live for his kids and he spoke to a lot of people who backed that up.”

“So what’s his deal? Why would he run off?” Nate asked. “And no, I never heard of him. I might have known that Lone County existed five years ago, but I was too busy grieving my wife to care.”

His statement could have been a downer, but the more time we spent with Nate, the more we realized he used humor to deal with the painful parts of his life. Maybe one of us should have called him on it, but it seemed easier to go with it. We weren’t close enough friends to cross that boundary yet. Besides, I had no desire for either of them to bring up my own pain.

“He was a land developer,” I said. Then, after swearing Nate to secrecy, I told them everything I’d learned about his business dealings. “I have an appointment with Brett Colter tomorrow at nine, and I’ve spent the last hour or so looking into the investors.”

“Which was why you were late,” Nate said. “You got absorbed in your work.”

“Yeah,” I said with a grimace. “Sorry.”

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