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“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” the Chief suggested. “Let’s just sit tight and wait for Abe to tell us what’s going on. Though I have to admit that it’s a mighty big coincidence that these bones would belong to a person wearing the same jersey Steven Carrington might have been buried in.”

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Tex had been thinking hard all the way to the office, and by the time he arrived there the vague contours of a plan had formed in his mind. What helped him formulate said plan was the fact that he was, after all, a doctor, and as such used to dealing with the kind of issues that trouble a person. He was facing a problem and so all he had to do was think up an appropriate solution. It’s what he did on a daily basis with his patients, so now he was going to apply that same logic to himself and the problem he was facing.

He arrived at the office and was surprised to find that Vesta was already seated behind her desk, playing Scrabble on her computer.

“You got here early,” he said.

“Yeah, I thought I’d start half an hour earlier so I can take a long break. Scarlett wants me to meet this uncle of hers who flew in from Tahiti yesterday. Guy worked there all his life as a missionary, and now he’s finally coming home to retire.”

“Scarlett’s uncle is a missionary? How old is he?”

“Ninety-six. He’s fit for an old geezer. She showed me some pictures, and he’s still driving a car and hauling water from his well.”

“So why is he retiring?”

“He feels he’s worked hard enough, and now he wants to have some fun.”

“Have some fun!”

“Yeah, he wants to travel, see the world. Maybe meet a woman and settle down.”

“But… you said he’s a missionary?”

“Uh-huh. So?”

“So aren’t missionaries supposed to be celibate?”

“I don’t know, Tex. But I’ll be sure to ask him.”

“Ninety-six,” said Tex. Then a sudden thought occurred to him. “Do you have a picture of this guy?”

“Sure.” Vesta took out her phone and showed him a picture of a robust-looking man who looked not a day over sixty. Most importantly: he had a full head of hair!

“Well, I’ll be damned,” said Tex as he studied the picture of the rosy-cheeked nonagenarian.

“You don’t mind, do you, that I take a long lunch?”

“No, absolutely not,” he said, “on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“That you introduce me to Scarlett’s uncle.” He tapped the picture, causing it to zoom in on that amazing crop of healthy hair. “I want to ask him something very important.”

7

Our small procession was still going nicely, though I could tell that Ted and Marcie were a little uncertain on how to proceed. Rufus was leading the way, and so far his humans were indulging him and allowing him to lead.

“Don’t you think we should focus our energy on that skeleton?” Fifi said now. “I feel like it’s important. There’s a story there, Max. Bones always tell a story.” She licked her lips, indicating that her interest in those bones might be personal. Clearly she hadn’t completely given up on the pleasing prospect of burying them—dogs will be dogs.

“And I think it’s more important to find a person who might still be alive, instead of the people responsible for putting a skeleton in some field somewhere,” I returned.

She thought about this for moment, and finally had to admit I had a point.

We’d arrived in downtown Hampton Cove, and proceeded to the point where Angel had said goodbye to her friends, before venturing off on her own—never a sound proposition when under the influence of alcohol and being all by yourself in the middle of the night. Though I think the first probably accounted for the second: alcohol has a tendency to make a person lose the capacity to make the right decisions.

The Cocky Cauldron is one of those new clubs where all the cool people go. It’s not much to look at during the daytime but at night they turn on the neon lights and the place is rocking. Or so I’ve heard. Thumping music and a throng of revelers is not my cup of tea.

“So this is where Angel was last seen?” I asked, just to make sure.

“Yeah, according to her friends this is where they left her,” said Shanille.

We turned to Rufus and Fifi, and Harriet said,“Show us what you’re made of. Sniff!”

And sniff they did—sniffing all around the sidewalk in front of the club as if their lives depended on it. But first Rufus, then Fifi came up empty. “It’s no good,” said Fifi.

“Yeah, we’re going about this backward,” Rufus agreed. “First we need to smell something that belongs to Angel, so we can know what she smells like, see?”

I glanced over to Shanille.“Do you have something that belongs to Angel?”

“I do, but we have to take a detour.” And she proceeded to lead the way. I surmised we were heading to St. John’s Church, where Angel’s mom spends a great deal of her time.

“Where are we going?” asked Marcie.

“I have absolutely no idea,” said Ted. “But it’s a great adventure, don’t you think?”

“Does it also strike you as odd, Ted, that the cats are leading, and Rufus is following?”

“And even more odd: we’re following them!”