Saturday, May 8th 11:00 P.M.

Just as Dean backed from the driveway, another car turned the corner and waited for him to clear the entrance. Evidently it was Randy Byrne. As soon as Dean was clear, the other car pulled in, stopping in front of the garage. On an impulse, Dean drove back in behind it and strolled over to meet the young man who stepped from the vehicle.

Dean introduced himself to the tall, good-looking boy who shook his hand firmly. Randy Byrne was dressed in jeans and sweater and seemed at ease around adults, more so than most his age.

After offering condolences for Randy's father, Dean added, "It's a little early for a Saturday night, isn't it?"

"It was a party. They started hauling out the booze and I don't want to do anything to screw up a scholarship-especially now."

"Good thinking and good luck with the scholarship. You should be a shoe-in. I watched your game on Thursday. They ought to be begging you."

"Thanks," the boy answered. "But I've been a little out of sorts lately."

"I can understand why."

The boy shuffled his feet, looking down at the ground. "I appreciate all the help you've given mom. She says you've been really good about all this."

"Tough times."

"Yeah. Especially the waiting around. And not knowing. It gets to you." Dean patted him on the shoulder and started to leave but Randy stopped him. "You know that date you asked my ma about, March fourth?"

"Yes."

"Is it really important?"

"No. It was just one of those unanswered details I picked up on and figured I'd ask. Your ma told me you had baseball practice and nothing unusual happened."

"Yeah, well...that's the truth, sort of. But there's something else. I don't know if it means anything, but I guessed I'd better say something." He moved around to the far side of the car, as if to get out of earshot of the house. Dean followed him. "There's this guy in my trig class, Bobby Ridner. He said he saw our car at Whitney's Motel. That's out 309, maybe 20 miles from town."

Dean had bicycled the area and recognized the location. "I know where it is."

"Ridner and this girl skipped school and tried to find some­where, you know, to get together. He thought it was a big joke, making all these plans and there in the back of the motel is our car."

"How could he be sure?"

"We have this funny license plate. The first three letters are SXX. Like, 'SEX,' you know? And besides, it's got a caved in front left. Ridner's been in it lots of times."




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