Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 143

I peeled out of Mallory's driveway in his excrement-brown colored 1949 De Soto. I grabbed its key from the kitchen counter on my way out. My car was still in front of Diana's apartment. And my gun was still in the glove box of that car. I knew then I had to start keeping it on me at all times, even though after the war I swore I'd never walk around with a gun on me all the time.

I made quick tracks to the town of Henderson, and prayed all the way that's where they were keeping Diana.