Sometimes Frank got busy and forgot that it was easy to give a person the feeling he was getting the brush-off without intending to do so."Good mornin..., Floyd," Frank said, forcing out a little more enthusiasm than usual. "How are you doing this morning?"Floyd looked up at Frank from his desk; his face brightened. "I'm doin' very well, Mr. Bennett. Thanks for askin'." He arose from his chair; they walked side-by-side down the hallway where Floyd unlocked Frank's office door. "Coffee this. I didn't miss her that much. But hell, what else did I have to do on a rainy Saturday morning? I found the house a little after noon with the reluctant help of a few suspicious natives. It wasn't the picture of squalor, but it was a damn close first cousin. A young boy sat hunched forward on the front steps, dwarfed by a background of dark windows and peeling paint. He didn't look up, even after I pushed the wooden gate aside and stopped three steps in front of him. When I asked for her, he. More

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