When he didn’t get an answer or a return call, Joe drove to Frank’s house. No Lizzie. His next thought was that she might be at the cemetery, so he headed there. As he pulled up close to the section that held Frank’s grave, he could see Lizzie had driven Frank’s car. He parked behind her, walked up to the headstone.
“Well, she’s got to be here somewhere,” he muttered, noting the wildflowers, as he turned and went back down the gravel path. He had just opened his driver’s side door when a maintenance worker on a golf cart stopped beside him.
“We’re closing and locking the gates here shortly,” the man said. “If you know that lady who owns that car, you need to tell her to come back and get it pretty quickly, so it doesn’t get locked in overnight.”
“You saw her?”
“Yeah, about two hours ag
