Chapter 45Later that same day, I received an email. “The license number is for a car registered to a company in Southern California: Persian Rug Imports.”
I thought for a moment and decided it was just an outside salesman lost with a wrong address and had pulled over to call and get a correct address and directions. It happened to me many times. I called my daughter Sherry and asked if she was still on for a late lunch. She was, and we agreed to meet at a small restaurant, Nonni’s Bistro, in Pleasanton.
I left the house, got into the car, and drove down the street. I made a left at the corner and then another left onto the main street headed for the freeway. As I made the last left from the only outlet from the neighborhood, a green Ford parked on the main street caught my attention. I t
