“She didn’t leave a forwarding address with the post office.

I checked for you back then, remember?”

“Check the private freight logs,” I said.

“The ones from the little box trucks we used for local home deliveries.”

“Garrett, those logs are locked up in the back storeroom,” Dale said.

“Tiffany changed the padlocks last month.”

“You’ve still got the master bolt cutters in your toolbox,” I said.

Dale rubbed the back of his neck with one heavy hand.