Chapter 71: In Death We Tryst

Months passed, and Frank Arazia had yet to uncover a single kernel of data connected to Grayson Lee. He tried looking his name up in the yellow pages, in local directories, and even online, but found nothing. It was as if the man didn't exist.

He had no way to bring it to the police, and was afraid that asking too many questions would draw unwanted attention. But he continued to go out every day, taking care to keep a low profile. No matter where he went, he constantly glanced around, making sure that he didn't see a pair of silver glasses peering back at him, or F. Douglas McCarthy's pudgy mug leering through a window.