Joe Russo woke up to a spectacular hangover. He eyed himself in the motel room mirror and silently swore it was the last time, although he knew that was a lie.
Over coffee and dry toast at the diner next door, he fished for information from the server behind the counter but came up empty. Yes, she knew Cole Caldwell. Everyone knew Cole. No, she had no idea about a redhead. He had a sister in San Francisco, but she had the same dark hair as Coles.
After paying his tab and leaving a generous tip, on Layton Wagners dime, of course, he headed to the hobby shop hed noticed the first time hed driven through town. Twenty minutes later, he returned to the black Lincoln with a large shopping bag.