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voice shrill. “A sick joke, perhaps, but a joke, nonetheless. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.”
    I closed my eyes, letting my shoulders relax. His theory did make sense, I realized. Why couldn’t I just accept that it was a joke and let it go? Was I reading more into this than there really was?
    Justin’s hand on my shoulder startled me. I gasped at his sudden touch.
    “Feeling better?” he asked. I could hear the hope in his voice.
    “Yeah, I guess so,” I answered, avoiding his probing gaze. I still wasn’t convinced, but I decided to let it go for the moment. I still had questions, but I didn’t want to get into them with Justin. He seemed determined to convince me to stay out of it.
    He put his arm around my shoulder and steered me toward the front of the house. “Good,” he said. “Now let’s go to the diner and have that dessert I promised you.”
    We’d just emerged from the corner of the house, when a distant voice startled us. “There’s no one home!”
    We turned suddenly to find a woman seated in a white wicker chair on her porch across the street. Long gray hair cascaded around her narrow shoulders. Bony fingers flew across a threatening pair of knitting needles. Justin flashed me a warning look, then put his hand against the small of my back, urging me forward.
    “Michael left about ten o’clock last night,” she shouted. “Did you need to see him about something?”
    “Nothing that can’t wait,” Justin answered. He continued pushing me along the sidewalk out of her sight. “We’ll catch him another time.”
    We didn’t stop walking until we reached the intersection. I spun around, my mouth open wide. “What the heck was that all about?” I asked.
    Justin paused and leaned against a street lamp. “That’s Alley the Snoop,” he said. “She watches everything that goes on in the neighborhood.”
    My mouth dropped wider. “Then why didn’t you let me talk to her!” I shouted. “Maybe she saw something this morning. Maybe she can clear this whole thing up.”
    “Yeah, maybe,” he said. “But maybe she can also point to you as the person who was there this morning, and who called in a crank call to the police! Do you want to have to explain to them what you think you saw?”
    I let my breath out slowly. “No, of course not,” I admitted. It didn’t even make sense to me. How would I explain a missing corpse to the police? Not to mention the public ridicule I would have to confront. But I wasn’t giving up. I still had every intention of finding out what happened in that house. I wouldn’t rest until I knew for sure.
    “I didn’t think so.” Justin put his arm around my shoulder and led me across the intersection. “Then let’s go to the diner. I’m parched.”
    Moments later we slid into a booth near the front window of Winslow’s Diner. The aroma of burgers and fries permeated the air. A waitress I didn’t recognize dropped off a menu and promised to return shortly for our order.
    Justin picked up the menu. “So what do you recommend for dessert?”
    I drummed my fingers on the Formica table and stared absentmindedly out the window. An old, rusty, beat-up van entered the parking lot. Several teenagers jumped out and crowded into the diner.
    “Looks like the afternoon rush is here,” Justin remarked. “That should make your boss happy.”
    I smiled. “I’ve never figured out how Mr. Winslow makes a go of this place,” I said. “If it weren’t for the school age kids, this place would be empty most of the time.”
    “No big surprise there,” he said. “Especially since the menu consists mainly of fast food cuisine.”
    The waitress returned to our table and Justin handed her the menus. “Maybe he just has exceptionally good fast food,” Justin said, reaching for my hand. “Speaking of which, you didn’t answer my question.”
    I wrinkled my eyebrows. “What question was that?”
    “I asked you what dessert you’d