“You blaming us now?”
“I’m blaming everybody.”
“That includes you.”
“Good.”
He had nothing for that and sat back again.
We reached another town near dark. Grocery store. Laundromat. Two churches. One hardware shop that looked closed for years. I parked outside a diner with a neon sign missing two letters.
“We eating here?” Dad asked.
“We’re asking questions here.”
“I’m hungry.”
“You’ll survive.”
Inside smelled like grease and old coffee. Three men at the counter. One couple in a booth pretending not to listen. I showed Belle’s picture and nobody knew her. I showed an older picture and still got nothing.
The waitress looked longer than the others.
“She pretty,” she said. “Somebody would remember.”
“She’s my sister.”
The waitress shrugged.
“Then maybe she doesn’t want to be fo
