Two events kept Cody awake. The first was what he'd discovered in the bed of the F150 pickup truck he stumbled upon in the middle of McCleary's abandoned cow pasture on the north side of Astatula.

Rust ran down the sun-faded driver's side of the vehicle leaving a red zebra-striped appearance. Dotted with what could pass as spotted freckles, the dented hood looked like a severe case of acne on a youngster's face. And, the tailgate hung resembling a loose fold of skin waiting for someone to come by and pick it off.

The second was Cat And Mouse, his latest overdue library book. Cody knew Old Lady Twitchell would surely impose a fine on the broke boy. The sheriff had promised ten days grounding the next time he was late returning a book.

That was bad enough, but such is family life. Boys screw up and dads dole out consequences. Cody would not have his existence any other way. He could never forget what he'd been rescued from in Palo Pinto.

Cody sat up in bed and asked himself, "How are you going to weasel the cash out of the sheriff this time?" No readily available answer popped in his head.

The book had scared the bejesus out of him in James Patterson's delightful way. The chilling story had also given Cody more than one bad dream. He decided, when he earned enough money doing chores around the house, he'd buy the paperback for his collection. He could pick the novel up for a pittance at a neighborhood yard sale.

Cody pitter-pattered across the pile-carpeted floor. The fabric's softness tickled the bottoms of his sensitive bare feet like a feather lightly drawn over the nerve endings. He despised wearing shoes and avoided them as much as possible.

Every time the conversation arose, Cody wiggled his toes teasingly and reasoned, "You're not born with shoes on, so why must you suffer wearing them? They're way too confining."

Unexpected, the telephone rang. Cody reached down and picked the receiver up on the third screaming BR-R-RING-G-G!

The caller asked, "Can we meet? Maybe you will take me to lunch?"

Still half asleep, Cody responded, "I'm not even sure what to call you."

"Legally, my name's Milton," he was told.

Cody asked, "Why exactly do you want to meet?"

"I don't suppose Astatula's most desired bachelor dates strange girls who call him bright and early on Saturday mornings from out of the blue?" Came the response.

Cody noticed the sheriff eavesdropped shamelessly on the discussion. He gave the lawman a dissatisfied, uncontented look and moved the receiver closer to his ear.

As if through telepathy she could see the scene in the room unfold, the girl named Milton told him, "I'll relay more about what's going on when I see you."

"Where?" Cody asked.

"The lobby of the Hot L Astatula," she replied, "let's say in thirty minutes."

"That dump?" Cody responded. Wondering if he'd made a mistake, Cody hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" Sheriff Daniels inquired.

With a playful smile on his face, Cody remarked, "Said her name's Milton. She wanted me to meet her in half an hour at the old motel where Boris Josephine was murdered a couple years ago. The one where the letter "E" is out of its name."

The sheriff scratched his head and stated, "Well, I hope she's nothing like her father or you'll need a bodyguard for protection."

"I can take care of myself," Cody boasted.

"George Milton is a ruthless businessman from way back. Or, at least, he'd like everyone to believe. A time or two he's barely stayed above the law. I've crossed swords with him before," Sheriff Daniels confided.

"There's more than one way to do business," Cody responded. He thought a moment, then added, "Most people think thieves are crooked. And, they are. But, they've got nothing on some businessmen."

"You learn your lessons well," Sheriff Daniels complimented him. His eyes followed Cody's tensed body language. "You really hate George Milton, don't'cha?"

"Why shouldn't I? He likes to intimidate people he sees beneath him, like me. Remember last year on my newspaper route?" Cody responded. Good news to announce, an ear to ear smirk quickly crossed his face. "I'm happy to report to you I've caused him a lot of pesky trouble since then."

The occurrences of the unfortunate incidents few and far between, Sheriff Daniels feigned anger. "Cody Michael! I should spank your behind hard for that!" Though he did not tolerate a lot of unnecessary foolishness out of Cody, the sheriff was pleased when the boy stood up for himself.

Later, at the aforementioned destination, Cody shut the door and pulled the tattered curtains over the window that looked across Forsythe Street. Milton sat a box down on top of a wooden table in the middle of the room. Its spindled pine legs wobbled. She removed a series of items, mostly photographs, from the container and arranged them neatly on the tabletop. A few had scribblings on the back in red ink that appeared to be in a private code.

Some pictures were black-and-white Polaroids. Others slick squared Kodaks. These were colored depictions bursting with vibrant yellows, shamrock greens, and sky blues. Cody looked intently at the photographs. He realized Milton was more of a live wire than he originally thought. She seemed grateful for his presence.

"They're my missing sister. Perhaps some day whoever kidnapped Melissa before we moved here will be caught. That's why I need your help. Maryanne told me the sheriff is very good at solving problems like mine," Milton explained.

Cody looked through another stack of pictures. They appeared to be taken in moments when Melissa was unaware. No doubt, they'd become family heirlooms. He didn't recognize the hairstyles of the faded memories. Cody enjoyed seeing what people from earlier years looked like.

He told Milton, "The sheriff is real good and he'll find your missing sister."

"I wished I'd searched a little harder," a teary-eyed Milton began. "I don't tell many people about Melissa. My father says she ran away and that's all there is to the story. I don't believe him..."

Cody cut her off, "If you would have kept looking for her by yourself you'd probably be in the bed of that pickup we spotted yesterday along with what we found. And, I'm not touching that. It's time to get the sheriff involved. Let's go."