“I’d like to talk to that PI you hired,” Logan told her. He was sitting in the El Camino in the parking lot of the University Place Inn. Harp and Barney were in the office arranging rooms for the night.

“Absolutely. Let me give him a call and see when I can get you in.”

“Thanks.”

Three minutes later, Logan’s two traveling mates walked back outside. Instead of getting in, Barney headed down the walkway along the three-story motel, while Harp walked around to the driver’s window of the El Camino, motioning for Logan to roll it down.

“We’re on the first floor near the back. One twenty-three and one twenty-four,” Harp said. He handed one of the keys through the window, then headed off after his WAMO buddy.

As soon as Logan was parked in front of the rooms, they all got their bags out of the back and split up. Logan’s room was a balmy eight-two degrees, so he fiddled with the thermostat until the air conditioner clicked on. The temperature was just starting to get bearable when his phone rang.

“Fulkerson said he’d see you whenever you could get to his office,” Callie told him.

“Hold on.” Logan searched for paper and a pen, finding them in the nightstand drawer. “All right. What’s his address?”

She gave it to him. “Call me if you need anything else. Whatever it is, I’ll make it happen.”

When Logan stopped by Harp and Barney’s room on the way out, his dad, of course, wanted to come along, but Logan told him it would be easier if he saw Joe Fulkerson on his own.

As he was starting up his car, Harp rushed out of his room.

Logan leaned through his open window. “Dad, I promise I’ll tell you everything when I get back.”

“What?” Harp said, confused.

“I need to do this alone.”

“You already made that clear. I just…I just forgot something.”

Now it was Logan’s turn to be confused.