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“I get the feeling my answer to your question isn’t going to make the day for either of us,” Fred responded to Mr. Salisberry’s query without exchanging pleasantries.

“So you have had inquiries about Mr. Kennington’s car?” Mr. Salisberry repeated his question into the phone.

“Yep,” Fred said, shifting the phone earpiece from his right ear to his left, so he could handle some papers while talking, “just this morning, in fact.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, hang on, I wrote his name down somewhere
,” Fred added, trying to locate a piece of paper on his desk.

“Let me take a guess,” Mr. Salisberry offered, “was it Dillan?”

Fred froze, stopped looking for the paper he’d written the name on & slowly eased back into his chair: “Yes, yes it was! How did you
”

“He grabbed a photo of Mr. Kennington’s 1950 Cadillac from 1 of the walls at the hotel here,” Mr. Salisberry answered Fred’s query before Fred could finish asking. “He asked some questions about it, but I didn’t tell him much.”

“Good,” Fred said. “He has a clipping of Oscar, who happens to be his grandfather 
 apparently Dillan & his wife are fixing up Oscar’s old place to live there permanently. Anyway, the clipping he brought into the newspaper office here this morning is a picture of Oscar with Mr. Kennington’s 1950 Cadillac. It was 1 of those printed on that damn scrap paper, so I promised him I’d ‘look into’ it more & see if I could find out what was originally on the other side, along with whatever else details I can scrounge up.”

“Why did you promise him all that?” Mr. Salisberry asked, slightly concerned.

“Oh, you had to be here,” Fred replied. “He was really interested in finding out more about the photo. I don’t think he ever said where he found it, but my guess is, with the work I’ve seen going on at Oscar’s old place, he found it as they were tearing it out. Can’t say I blame him wanting to know more about the photo 
 Oscar really wasn’t one for brand new cars ever, & certainly not anything fancy like a Cadillac.”

“I see,” acknowledged Mr. Salisberry. “So, what now?”

“I don’t know,” Fred said. “Did you let him keep the photo from the wall?”

“No,” Mr. Salisberry replied. “I have it.”

“OK, well,” Fred hesitated, realizing whether or not Mr. Salisberry let Dillan have the photo really had no bearing on Mr. Salisberry’s question of ‘what now’. “Just sit tight. I plan to call him here in a bit to tell him I found some info, so maybe I’ll ask him further what the importance is. Who knows? Maybe he’ll be satisfied knowing what was on the back of the original clipping. If so, then no harm done.”

“Right,” Mr. Salisberry said, “but just like you, you had to be here when he was asking about the photo from the wall. I don’t think knowing what was on the back of the original clipping he has will appease him enough.”

“Yeah,” Fred noted, “from my visit with him here, I think you’re right
.”

“So, again,” pressed Mr. Salisberry, “now what!?”

“Right now, nothing,” Fred replied. “Going forward, no idea 
 yet.”

“Welp, let me know what happens when you call him. Meantime, I have work to do.”

Mr. Salisberry hung up the phone & looked at the photograph, while Fred hung up his phone, sighed & shook his head, trying to figure out how to approach the next call he’d have to make 
 to Dillan.

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