53The parking lot in front of Stush’s Diner was nearly empty when we hurtled in and slid to a stop. Stush’s beat-up white delivery van was the only other vehicle in sight, parked cockeyed across two spaces by the front door.
The sign on the door read CLOSED. The place was dead.
What about Uncle Stush?
“Why didn’t he answer his phone?” I switched off the engine and leaned forward, scanning the diner’s windows for signs of life. “He should’ve still been able to answer even if the place was closed.”
“Maybe he’s just busy.” Peg opened the door on her side and got out. “I don’t see Father Speedy’s car anywhere, so maybe we beat him here.”
I got out, too, and grabbed her arm as she headed for the front door. “I still think we should call the cops.”
“Speedy not being here gives us ev
