A car might have been seen.

 

He had ditched the car but used the same license plates from it. If someone had

seen the plates?

 

Would the cops even look at a white van? They might. They might glance at the

plates regardless; recognition might come. He would have to fix that.

 

He retreated to a corner of the room and sat at a table. He took out his phone

and looked at directions to the Outer Banks. But he didn’t have Chris Ballard’s

exact address.

 

A young waitress passed by and he said, “Got an old buddy I’m trying to find.

I’ve got his name and area where he lives but not the street address or phone

number. Anything on this phone that can help me with that?” “You can try a

search on the area and name. And Google has street view so you can see the house

too when you find it.” “Can you show me how to do that? I’m an old fart still

uses a calculator. Just pick a name.” She grinned, then sat and went through the

key clicks.

 

Rogers quickly picked it up. He thanked her with a twenty-dollar bill and she

went off carrying a tray of clean glasses.

 

He put in his search and refined it as he went along, adding as much information