He hadn’t. Ravenous, I stopped at Wally’s Donut Shop and ordered eggs and sausage. Lowering the platter, Wally glanced from the eggs to the hash browns and sausage and up at me. “This is big time for you, isn’t it? I thought you only ate jelly donuts.” “This is breakfast.” “Good thing. Most important meal. Though”—he wiped a hand across his apron—“a lot of people eat breakfast in the morning.” “Wally,” I said, I’m doing the best I can.” He grinned. It was a variation on an old interchange. Wally’s was close to the station and many a break had been spent here, many a jelly donut consumed, and many a cup of coffee that should rightfully have been tossed out had washed down those donuts. I salted everything, poured ketchup over the eggs and hash browns, and forked off a piece of scrambled egg. My thoughts were on the case. What did I know, so far? Anne Spaulding had been missing for a day and a half. Her apartment looked like it had been the scene of a fight So presumably, she had fought someone and…and lost.
