Smiley by Ezell, Michael

of a car, a truck, anything?” “Hold on,” Garrett said. “That’s seven years ago. I’m sure it has nothing to do with your missing girl.” “Why are you sure?” LaSalle said. Good question. Garrett thought on it for a bit. “One murdered girl seven years ago doesn’t tie into every girl who goes missing in this area. For all we know, some trucker got crazy, cut the girl up, and never came back.” “Don’t matter, either way,” Hank said. “Old King never saw nothin’. He just started screaming into his CB.” “You suppose he’s still around?” LaSalle said. “Nah, he passed years back. Heard he just went in his sleep in his cab one night.” LaSalle raised an eyebrow at Garrett. “I don’t suppose, for argument’s sake, you have any records of that case?” “No, that’d be State Trooper territory.” *** “I shouldn’t be showing you this stuff,” Clancy said. “I know,” Garrett said. He went to high school with Clancy Parker, had been drinking buddies, even. Once, when Garrett came back from LA for Christmas, Clancy got a little too drunk and sobbed about being jealous of Garrett going to a big place like LAPD when Garrett never even wanted to be a damn cop in the first place. Clancy grew up thirsting for it like a fine wine he couldn’t wait to taste on his twenty-first birthday. Heavier now, jowly and putting a little strain on the buttons of his uniform shirt, Clancy moved his mouse around, sifting through file folders. He glanced over his computer screen at LaSalle but spoke to Garrett. “Not enough you’r