He checked the location.

 

He rechecked the name. And the other name listed with the first one.

 

Son of a bitch.

 

Is that why she played so coy?

 

He closed his eyes and thought back to the night his mother disappeared. His

brow creased as he strained to remember something.

 

She had made them dinner. She was dressed to go out. He had followed her into

her bedroom as she went to get something.

 

She didn’t know he was there. She had paused at a dresser.

 

A drop of sweat appeared on his brow, so intense was his concentration.

 

She had reached down for something there.

 

He scrunched his face up.

 

Her fingers touched the frame. It was a photo.

 

She picked it up, looked at it.