“I know. Uncle Dan has told me that many times. But I think twenty-five years is long enough for Hope’s case to go unsolved. I’d love to be able to tell him it’s solved when he wakes up from his coma.”
Seth darted a glance at her profile and smiled. He recognized the determined jut of her jaw and knew she shared the tenacity of her uncle. She wouldn’t give up until she’d found out Hope’s identity. “I want that, too. But in the meantime, Mom called and said she’s going to be out for the evening. Want to do the drive-through at that rib place?”
Callie nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
Forty-five minutes later they walked into the kitchen at Seth’s home. He set the container with their dinner on the kitchen table and glanced over at Callie, who was already pulling some plates from the cabinets to set the table. He watched her work for a moment, and his heart twisted in his chest.
A feeling of déjà vu settled over him, and he closed his eyes. How many times had they spent evenings together here or at Dan’s home, working together to get a meal on the table? He wished he had known then how special those times were to become to him and how quickly they could vanish without a word of warning.
She glanced up at him, and their eyes locked. He stared at her for a moment before he turned away. “I’ll get some soft drinks out of the fridge.”
“Okay.”
He brought two cans to the table. They sat down, and she began to eat. He stared down at his plate for a moment, then he bowed his head and silently offered his thanks for the food God had provided. When he opened his eyes, she was staring at him.
“Is anything the matter?” he asked.
“No.”
She dropped her gaze to her plate and began to eat again. He had just raised his fork to his mouth when his phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and stared at the displayed number. “It’s Max Prince.”
Callie put her fork down and sat up straighter. “Maybe he’s seen Herman.”
Seth pulled the phone to his ear. “Hello.”
“Seth, this is Max. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you.”
Seth’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. “What is it?”
“We answered a call that the body of a homeless man had been found near the abandoned warehouse I was telling you about earlier. When we got there, I recognized the victim. It was Herman Miller. He’d been shot.”
Seth closed his eyes and shook his head. “Oh, no. Do you have any suspects?”
“No. As usual with the street people, nobody heard or saw anything. Thought I’d let you know.”
“Thanks, Max. I’ll talk to you later.”
He disconnected the call and sat there staring at his phone. Callie leaned forward and touched his arm. “What did Max say?”
He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “They found Herman shot to death near the warehouse where he slept.”
She shook her head, and tears began to trail down her cheeks. “No, that can’t be,” she whispered. “I just talked to him a few hours ago. Why would anybody kill him?”