Chapter 19

Stan Mallory was halfway through drinking his beer, sitting in the living room when he decided what to do. He went to the grip that he had in his bedroom and pulled out an old cell phone. The account listed it as ‘No Name.’ Then he dialed the phone number that he found on the notepad in the warehouse office. After six rings, the line went dead, “Shit.” Stan finished his beer, and one-half hour later, he redialed the number. This time, a scratchy man’s voice with a local accent answered, out of breath, “Yea. What can I do for you?”

“Can I talk to Bart? It’s mighty important. I have essential news for him.”

“Who the hell is this?”

“I will tell him. I have to talk to him. I’m from Ohio. You know what I mean.” The man hesitated and cleared his throat. Then he said, “I think I know. Bart ain’t here. He went south with the cruiser.”