Before the start of each new case he would go through the same routine. He would start off his search suspecting everyone. If a woman came in and asked him to take a few pictures of her cheating husband and his girlfriend, he would ask why. Does the wife have something on the husband and she wants some insurance to hold over his head? Maybe she wants to keep the house and the kids. Has the wife, too, been cheating and now needs proof of what her significant other has been doing so she drops him before he drops her? Suspect everyone and then weed them out. Eventually one will be left standing. He needed to know more about Tammy before he could move forward on the case. She was the starting and ending point. He thought about talking again with Brad when they had more time and get more information about her musical career and Michael Gallager.
John went over to the little camping refrigerator he had plugged into the wall near the back door and pulled out a can of Coke. Back at his desk, he picked up the telephone receiver and dialed Tammy's number. He got her answering machine and told her to drop by anytime and they would talk things over. As he hung up the receiver he remembered that he had wanted to call his mother, but first he called Joyce.
Joyce answered on the third ring.
"Hello," she said, sounding out of breath.
"Joyce?"
"John?"
"How are you?" John asked.
"It is you. Oh, I'm so glad you decided to call be back. I wasn't sure if I should try to reach you or just let it ride a while longer. I just didn't know."
John was watching a little boy meandering behind his parents as they moved along the sidewalk in front of his office. "It's good to hear your voice again. How'd you find me?"
"Oh, John. It was easy."
"I'm that easy to find? I thought I was a pretty mysterious guy."
"I thought you were still with the force. They told me where to find you," she said. "So I called."
There was a long pause. John remembered these long pauses from when they were together. She had never really been good at showing her feelings. Tell you, she might. But show you, never. If the mood hit her, she could be cold and decisive. She did, however, have her good points but nothing between them ever developed. There had been just too many long pauses between them. "I'm glad you did," he heard himself say.