He had asked to keep it so he could listen again. Something about the conversation bothered him. But what? For the last half hour, Frank had sat in the motel room replaying the tape on his portable pocket cassette player. He had to control his anger as he listened over and over to the kidnapper hitting Chet. He had to ignore that and concentrate. He had to sift through the voices and words and noise to filter out any clues. Nothing. He stabbed at the off button and threw the tape player on his bed next to the photo he had swiped from Royce's. Another unsolved mystery. The door was unlocked and Joe entered, a large brown paper bag in one hand. "Dinner," he announced. "I'm not hungry." Frank stared out the window. "Heard nothing new on the tape?" Frank's silence answered Joe's question. Joe placed the bag on Frank's bed and sat across on his own. He opened up the bag and pulled out a hamburger, fries, and a soft drink. Frank might be able to go without food, but Joe couldn't. Joe picked up the photo lying next to the tape player - the photo of Emmy, an older man next to her, and Smith.
