"Can we just get in the car?" Emily Pemberton seemed nervous, frightened. She climbed into the passenger seat and secured her safety belt.
"Where to?" I asked.
"Just drive."
She looked over her shoulder a number of times as we pulled away. Once we'd left the vicinity of the diner, she regained her composure. She was direct, just as I'd remembered from our first meeting. "What have you found out so far? Do you have anything that I can use?"
"Everyone seems to think that your husband is a wonderful guy," I conveyed. "I'm still looking into him."
"Well, look faster!" she commanded.
"On the other hand, your son seems to have a gambling problem and some unhappy Russian associates."
There was a dreadful silence in the car. I sensed her cringing even though I never took my eyes off of the road. After a moment, she spoke in a hushed voice, a voice that was desperately clinging to hope. "I didn't ask you to investigate my son."
"No," I admitted. "But I needed to understand the full context of the situation. These guys are dangerous. I'm not going to be much use if I'm lying in a gutter."
"I'm sorry," she said after a short pause. "I should have said something. Have you checked the restaurant?"
"In Kingsburg?" I was guessing. Some of the receipts in the blue folder were from a restaurant, but I couldn't recall the name, and I didn't want to admit that I'd lost her information."
"Yes," she confirmed.
"I'm heading out that way again tomorrow," I told her. "I didn't discover anything conclusive on my first trip."
"Please keep trying," she urged me. "They'll show up, sooner or later."
They? Who are they? I needed to find out where this restaurant was.
They? Who are they? I needed to find out where this restaurant was.
"Did you know that your husband filed a missing person's report?" I asked. "Yesterday morning."
"I couldn't let anyone where I was," Mrs. Pemberton confided. "Those monsters, they're after Ricky."
"You were with Ricky?"
"I don't want to talk about it, please."
"Would you like me to drive you to Brownewood?" I asked. "I have time."
"Not yet," she replied.
"Where are you staying?" I asked.
"I'm not sure."
"Where are you staying?" I asked.
"I'm not sure."
"Do you have enough money for a hotel?"
She paused again. "I can't use my cards. I can't let them know where I am."
On the run with no money - it's a tough situation.
"I can give you back your four thousand." I offered. "I haven't touched it."
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