Page 17 of Look for Me

Martin was going to use video, but his signal was weak in this part of town. He made a mental note to change carrier. If he drove another mile, his phone switched to roaming. Every little cost added up.

“Employees usually don’t use the same entrances as customers,” Ming added.

“I know. But it’s almost eleven o’clock, and maybe she’ll come outside for lunch again.” It was Martin’s excuse, and he wanted to stick by the story.

“If someone complains or says anything about stalking, it’s a lot of trouble for you.”

“I’m not stalking.”

Ming didn’t reply.

“Say something.” Martin shifted in his seat.

“I told you earlier, when you first called me and said you’re already in Key Largo.” Ming’s voice was emotionless. “I wish you had waited for me to get more information. Like I said, I’m waiting on someone to get back to me. Remember how I said I’d have something for you on Tuesday next week?”

Might as well confess.“I didn’t have the nerve to tell you where I am.”

“You felt guilty that you jumped the gun.”

“Now Corinne knows I’m in town.” Martin wasn’t sure how that might have changed the dynamics of their entire situation.

“Patience is a fruit of the Holy Spirit,” Ming reminded him.

“Well, to be fair to myself, Thursday was just this side of the weekend heading toward Tuesday.” Martin wasn’t sure whether his friend would buy that. “Today is Friday. Even closer to Tuesday.”

“No, Martin. Thursday was five days away from Tuesday. Today is four days from Tuesday. You just end up paying for extra hotel when you could have waited.”

“What were you planning to do?” Martin asked. He had asked Ming that before, but the latter wouldn’t say.

“I had to brainstorm some ideas with my associates in Florida. I didn’t want to tell you prematurely if it doesn’t work out.”

“If what doesn’t work out?”

“Stay away from Corinne for now. Why don’t you go back to your hotel room while I dig around a bit more about her situation?”

Now Ming was saying it again: wait.

“Okay.”

Martin wondered how frail Corinne’s health was if she fainted at the first sight of him.

She didn’t look frail or skinny—the baggy clothes hid everything—and she didn’t look sickly either.

This morning, Martin went to the shop as soon as it opened at nine o’clock. He tried to find out when Corinne—Dinah—worked, but nobody would tell him. All they said was that she doesn’t work on Sundays, and even that was too much information.

That made Martin wonder. Why wouldn’t Corinne work on Sundays? She wasn’t a Christian, was she? In fact, some Christians worked on Sundays too.

Ming said he had to go. “Don’t do anything else I wouldn’t do.”

Martin didn’t want to second-guess his friend, but what could Ming find out for him all the way from Savannah when he, Martin, was already here. Boots on the ground.

Martin had an idea of what he wanted to do.

He wasn’t sure if it was something God would want him to do—or that God would approve—but it seemed to be a waste of his time if he went back to the hotel room and waited for hours for Ming to call again.

Technically, Ming was right.

Martin should have stayed in Savannah until Ming had more information.

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