So far, Miranda Jessup Buckley has tried to find out what happened to Dougie Wilcox. The more she tries to investigate, the darker it gets. Now, she realizes that old Mr. Starling has been planning to confront her about Dougie. Miranda wonders how Dougie could have scammed an innocent old man, and how many other people are looking for him.

**********************************

Preston comes rushing through the double doors at exactly three-fifteen. His schedule here is no later than three-twenty. His hair is wet but brushed back and he looks like a young Clint Eastwood. He'd probably die if I told him he looked like the actor, who's every bit of eighty years old. But I remember watching reruns of Rawhide and he was a very handsome guy.

"You sweaty or just washed your hair?"

"Tryouts are next week. I was working on my dribbling. That's my weakest thing. Never been very good at it."

I nod and glance at the phone. Maybe if I think hard enough, Dougie will call. I have to find out if he knew what he was doing. Because the Dougie I knew, he just wasn't like that.

"No offense, Miss Miranda, but you look like shit. Are you hungover?"

Glaring, I fold my arms across my chest. "Really, Preston? What makes you think that was an appropriate question to ask?"

"My mom looks just like that whenever she has too much wine. She doesn't drink very often but when she does, she looks all pale and sweaty. Just like you do know."

"No. I'm not hungover. I just found out something that shocked me."

He leans forward on the counter, eager to hear. "What?"

He's seventeen. He has very little filter and he speaks without really thinking. I know if I tell him what I've learned about Dougie, he'll say something childish. When you're young, the world is black and white. There are good guys and bad guys. Things happen to other people, not to you. That's how I used to feel anyhow. I doubt much has changed.

"I've told you about Waylon," I say, pausing until he nods his head. "I just found out his dad scammed an old man out of several thousand dollars."

Preston raises his dark eyebrows, silent as he processes the information. "How do you know?"

"The old man told me."

Preston shrugs. "How do you know he's telling the truth?"

"He's an old man, Preston. Why would he lie?"

"Geez Louise, Miranda. People lie all the time. I've seen a man holding a Bible in one hand and say lie after lie. I had a coach lie to me, my parents and the school board about my broken arm. He said I fell because I was clumsy. He pushed me. He was a bully but he got away with it. He was a liar, and a damn good one. But I knew the truth. Just cause it comes out of someone's mouth doesn't mean it's the truth."

I open my mouth, stunned at the wisdom Preston, my high school, basketball spinning, hyperactive coworker just said. "I guess you're right."

*********************************

Mitch comes in swinging a bag of food from the Patterson Deli. "Figured you might be hungry," he says, winking as he leans in for a kiss. "Want to eat at the picnic table out back?"

I nod and we cut through the store to leave out the back door.

"You sounded a little out of sorts earlier when you called. What's going on?"

I unwrap the club sandwich he brought me and my stomach flips a little as I think about what Mr. Starling said. "Do you remember a few weeks ago, I told you about that sweet little old man who brought me those flowers? Well, he said it was because I had been so nice and pumped his gas for him," I say then shake my head. "That was bullshit. Apparently, he had a run in with Dougie."

Mitch swallows his mouthful of food. "What kind of run in?"

"He said Dougie took several thousands of dollars from him and promised a huge return on his investment...then just disappeared."

"Dougie hit you up for money, didn't he?"

"Yes. But I never gave him a dime. Missy gave him some," I say. My mind suddenly blooms with thoughts of Missy figuring out he was scamming her. She could have lured him out to No man's land, killed him, then let the wild animals get rid of the evidence. "Maybe that's why she killed him."

Mitch wipes his mouth with a napkin. "She couldn't have killed him almost two years ago and he call you a few days ago. Miranda, think about it. Was it Dougie who called, was it him who's leaving beer bottles around for you to find? He can't be dead and doing all of that."

"Damn it, Mitch, why can't it be both?"

He grins. "Come to think about it, maybe it's the ghost of Dougie."

"Preston said that maybe the old man is lying. Why would he lie about something like that? He told me about his wife falling ill because of it. Said she just gave up. It was so sad."

Mitch reaches over and he brushes my hair back off my shoulder. "Im not saying the old guy is lying but people lie, Miranda."

"I know that. I was married to Farley, remember?"

"What's the old guy's name? I'll see if I can find out anything about him."

"Yeah, that'd be good," I say. "His name is Alvin Starling. See if you can find out anything about the death of his wife."

Mitch takes the pen from his pocket and jots it on a paper napkin. "I gotta run. I promised Molly I'd watch a movie with her."

**********************************

Preston looks up from his phone as I come back to the counter. "I got all trash from the bathrooms, the office and behind the counter. I'm gonna go walk it to the dumpster."

"Preston, did that coach get in any trouble for hurting you?"

He hoists the garbage bags over his shoulder. "No, but I have a feeling the next time somebody gets hurt because of him, they just might realize I was telling the truth."

I learned two things tonight. Seventeen year-old boys can be wise beyond their years and maybe ghosts can dial the phone.