Play@YSDC

As he heads along the bridge, toward the end of it, he sees a man fishing off the bridge.

Aren't there meant to be regulations against that?

They must do things differently here, thinks Murray. He tips his hat to the man as he walks past him.

The man gives him a smile and a wave. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

He doesn't seem to notice the fog.

Maybe it's foggy around here all the time, thinks Murray, waving and smiling back. "It sure is," he says. "Reminds me of home." There's nothing like a fog coming in off of the bay to make Frisco seem even more mysterious.

"You're not from around here," says the man cheerily. "Whereabouts you from, stranger?"

"San Francisco," says Murray. "Ever been there?"

"Nope, never been out of the city," says the man with a shrug. "It nice there? Cheery? Anyway, what're you doing around these parts anyway? You looking for somebody?"

"Yeah, Frisco's great!" says Murray. "You're right, I am looking for someone. A dame named Cara Ashby. She also goes by Ash."

"Cara Ashby," says the man, musing. "Hmm, there's some Ashbys in one of the towns over ... though we've got a bit of a rivalry with that town so I wouldn't know for sure. Does she have any interests? Might be I could help you if I knew more about her."

"Yeah, she does have family in that town," says Murray. "Recently, I know she's gone bowling and been to the amusement park and a bar. She was also apparently at a gentlemen's club called Heaven's Night of all places. Last I heard she was at the lighthouse, which is where I was just heading."

"Well it seems you know much more about her than I ever could," he says with a twinkle in his eye. "Women! Am I right? She your wife? Wives are always drifting about the place. My wife was supposed to bring lunch out to me but she's late as per usual." He pauses. "You're on the right path to the amusement park and gentleman's club. The lighthouse is back that way, though the repairs likely will block your way."

"Thanks. I found out the hard way that the way to the lighthouse was blocked," says Murray. "I'm heading to the hotel to see if I can get a ride on a boat out the back. She's not my wife. I'm a private detective, and her husband hired me to track her down."

"Wives, huh? If I had to pay a P Eye to go grab my wife back, I'd truly let her know I meant business. Good luck with the hotel. The boat's normally kept nice and ready for any such trips but it'll cost ya ... or rather, cost him. I assume you make him pay expenses?"

"Natch," says Murray. "And thanks."

"You got any questions about the town could help, ask away." The man pauses. "Say, this woman you're talking about ... she pretty?"

"Yeah, she's pretty," says Murray, taking out the small photograph that her husband had given him and showing it to the man. "Ever seen her before?"

"Hmm, yeah, I think I saw her go by in a hurry awhile back. She kept looking over her shoulder like she'd expected to be taken by wolves or something. Think she'd been crying too, her mascara was all runny. You'd think a woman would take better care of herself! It's shameful, though not as shameful as leaving your lawful husband in the lurch. They got kids?"

"One: a little girl named Lilliana," says Murray. "Which way was she running when you saw her, and how long ago?"

"The way you were going about, oh, I don't know. It's funny. Whenever I start fishing, I can't quite remember how long I been fishing."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," says Murray. It's like my grandfather says, the point of fishing isn't to catch fish. "The same thing happens to me when I'm on a stakeout. What points of interest are in he direction she went?"