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Chapter 47

The business was called Miller’s Construction. We asked for Mister Miller. The guy up front hollered, “Lou, people asking for you.”

I guessed they didn’t believe in intercoms. In any case, an older man soon walked out, a bit hunched over, gray. “Yeah, whaddaya want?”

It was him! I recognized the voice from the phone! “We called a little while ago, Mister Miller.”

His face noticeably blanched. I mean, he was pretty white to begin with, but now he was downright ghostly. I could hear his heartrate spike up, too. Bingo. “I already told you, wasn’t us that did that job you mentioned.”

“Can we talk privately, Mister Miller?” asked Doug in a voice far sweeter and politer than I was accustomed to. Which is to say, I’d never heard it before.

Lou’s face scrunched up, but he motioned with his finger for us to follow him into his office. “Thank you for seeing us,” I said as we sat down in cracked leather seats that had seen far better times—probably during the Truman administration.