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“They just want to do some catching up. We can all do something fun later tonight. Especially once there's time where it's just you and me.” “Okay, sounds good,” I said. “I do have a favor to ask though,” she remarked. “What is it?” I asked. “Do you think you could do some shopping for me?” Becca asked. “You can just use my car. We're low on food, and my parents aren't really the type to order out. I really would appreciate it.” “Yeah, not a problem,” I said. “I'll make sure to stock up groceries for you and your folks.” “Awesome,” she replied. “Thanks a lot, sweetie. My key should be on the dresser. I got to go, but I'll see you later.” I started to walk over and kiss her, but Becca was already heading down the stairs. With a heavy sigh, I walked over to the dresser and searched for the key to Becca's car. Much to my surprise, the key was not there. I frantically searched everywhere for the key. However, I couldn't find it. Suddenly, I realized where the key was. And I realized why. There was still no apparent fallout from the article and very few people even commented on it. I did have to take a little ribbing on the Tuesday morning call with my team. It was all good-natured and we had a robust laugh over it. The sisters talked Tuesday night and Janie recounted their shopping experience and how excited she was to find such good deals at the outlet mall. The visit could not have been going better, and Janie was obviously impressed with her mother. Wednesday afternoon, I received a call from our manager at The Rusty Rudder. He said a man had been in for lunch and was asking questions about Pam and me. He was looking for her. They didn’t tell him anything. That scared me. With the newspapers showing Pam’s Associated Press picture everywhere, that policeman from Charlotte could have seen her. I immediately called Brett, the district attorney, and he promised to email a mug shot of John Cramer to see if he was the one asking the questions. It arrived in a few.
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