“Dead ends.”
“What?” Jenny looked up from her menu and glanced over at Bobby. “What did you say? I was looking at this deep-dish cherry pie.”
Bobby grinned. “Dead ends. It seems like every time we get close to digging something up, we hit the wall. I’m thinking this girl is going into a pauper’s grave with a headstone that says ‘Jane Doe, ????—1967.’ And don’t you think you should have some dinner before desert?”
“I know. But the picture…”
Just then Geraldine Fisher scooted up. “You ready to order?”
Jenny nodded. “I want the pork chops and rice, but…”
Geraldine looked down at Jenny over the glasses perched on the end of her nose. “Yes?”
“Only if you can promise me there will be an enormous piece of the deep-dish cherry pie left by the time we finish.”
Geraldine made a note on her p
