Madeline Mann Read Online Free PDF

said. “It's a cabin just outside of Saugatuck, Michigan.”
    Before I left, I handed Cal an elephant squeeze toy and some plastic keys. He pointed at them and then took them with a jubilant expression. “Gah,” he told me seriously, pointing at the elephant. Then, confidentially and so near my face I could smell his lunch on his breath, he repeated, “Gah.”
    I felt a stab of love for him and had a vague desire to take him to the zoo.
    I felt something much different for Logan Lanford, my old high school chum who'd grown up to be a fair-weather husband and a deadbeat dad.

three
     
    On my way home, I stopped at the White Hen in Webley to get cash and make a phone call. Jack had been pushing me to get a cell phone, but so far I'd resisted out of sheer stubbornness. I jogged inside the building to do my cash transaction. I got two hundred dollars for Fritz to bring over to Jamie's house. It nearly cleaned me out, but I'd get paid on Monday, and I intended to be at least partially reimbursed by the Grinning Bishops as well.
    I made my way to the pay phone outside the front of the store, (one of the last pay phones in existence, I was guessing) near which a man stood smoking. He was a handsome Indian man of about thirty-five, with a cute Enrique Iglesias–style mole under his eye. He squinted while he inhaled, obviously enjoying every moment of his cancer risk; he smiled briefly at me when we made eye contact.
    I used a calling card my parents had given me for Christmas, got a long-distance number for Quinn Paley, and dialed. The phone rang three times; the voice of a young woman answered. “Yeah?” she said.
    “Hello,” I said uncertainly. “May I speak with Quinn, please?”
    She'd obviously expected me to be someone else; she seemed flustered. “Oh—sorry. Quinn's not here. Do you want me to take a message?”
    “My name is Madeline Mann. I'm looking for Logan Lanford.”
    There was silence at the other end of the line.
    “Do you know Logan?” I asked.
    “Yes. Quinn and me know Logan. He hasn't been around here in a while.”
    “So you haven't seen him in the past few days?”
    “Not me. Maybe Quinn. I can ask him when he gets back.”
    I was getting what I call one of my “mighty vibes.” There was something weird going on with Logan, I knew it, and not just from this phone call with an unhelpful teen. I thought for a moment. I could hear her breathing into the mouthpiece. Either she was nervous, winded, or asthmatic, I thought, tapping my car key against the wall in a staccato rhythm. “Okay. Maybe I can give you my number?” I said.
    She took my home phone number willingly enough and said that she would pass on the information.
    I hung up, disappointed that I hadn't solved Jamie's problem, and then dialed the number she'd given me for Logan's dad. There was no answer.
    I sighed, putting Jamie's information back into my purse. Suddenly the smoking man straightened away from the wall and took another drag on his cigarette.
    “That's a musical name, Logan Lanford,” he said, without apology for his eavesdropping. “I have actually heard it before.”
    That got my attention. I stepped forward. “I'm Madeline Mann,” I said. “I'm a reporter for the Wire . Do you work here?”
    He tossed down his cigarette butt, reluctantly, almost affectionately. Farewell, old friend . He was one of those people who made smoking look cool. “I am the manager here. Sunil Nagubadi.” He leaned over to shake the hand I was extending.
    “You said you've heard the name before? Logan Lanford? I'd appreciate anything you could tell me. I'm trying to locate him for…for a story,” I lied, feeling suddenly protective of Jamie.
    “I saw the man himself. He came here the other evening. He used the phone you were using, and I was here.” He smiled charmingly. “I am a heavy smoker; I'm here more than once a day. I have a non-smoking policy, so I send myself outside.”
    I liked Sunil, I decided. “You talked with