Four years later …
“Hello,” Chris barked into his phone. The woman next to him in bed moved a little but didn’t awaken.
“Who the hell is this?” Chris growled sitting up.
“It’s Dick Scanlon,” the voice answered patiently. “Your P.I.”
“I haven’t had a P.I. in two years. What the hell do you want?”
“I found her.”
Chris sat there stunned. It had been four years since he had seen her last. He had looked for her but she was nowhere to be found. After two years he gave up. What followed was two long and agonizing years of booze and women trying to forget her. She didn’t want to be found.
“Where is she?” he asked standing up. “Tell me.”