Chapter 9

"your dog is missing?" cardigan scoffed. "charles, you're a private investigator--find him yourself. you don't need me for that." he gestured for more coffee.

she shook her head. "not that kind of dog, cardigan. it's an inside joke--it stands for Dear Ol' Grandad." she took a deep breath. "my grandad is missing, cardigan. and i'm worried."

"i'm sorry to hear that, charles. really, i am." he drummed his fingers on the table. "how long has he been missing? does this have anything to do with livermore?"

"it might. i don't know." she stared into her cup. "i've tried calling him the past couple of days, and left messages for him to call me back. he hasn't. i wasn't too worried until i heard about james. i went over to his place this morning and....he hasn't been there in several days. i picked up his mail, checked his phone messages." she shook her head. "he's the only family i have, cardigan, and i'm worried. will you help me?" she reached out and placed her hand on his.

her hand was cold, but her eyes were warm. he nodded. "sure, charles. tell me what you know and we'll figure out a plan of attack. between the two of us, we'll find him."