Day Two - Johnny and Rusty's Office.

Rusty Ringle had just grabbed his hat to go out to find Johnny when the man himself came storming in. Rusty thought, not for the first time, maybe we should call him Johnny Hurricane.

"That pissant ain't getting away wit it." He assumed that Rusty had already heard about the murder. It was absolutely a murder in his eyes, and he didn't waste time with unnecessary explanations.

Rusty had, in fact heard about the Stanhope tragedy from his sources in the police station but he had bigger news for Johnny. Handing him a telegram, he said, "It's from The Boy."

That stopped Johnny for a moment. He looked at the paper in his hand, then back at Rusty.

"The Boy? Billy?" Johnny had been married briefly, some ten years ago to an FBI agent by the name of Sally Craft. The marriage didn't last long but their union lived on in the form of a ten year old boy. Johnny didn't see him often, had missed a considerable chunk of his growing up, but stayed in touch. Sally and Billy lived in Washington, DC.

Rusty pointed at the yellow scrap of paper. "He needs you."

In terse language, Johnny read that Sally Craft was missing and that the FBI had no idea of what happened to her. Billy asked "Can you come?"

Rusty handed him another slip of paper. "Your flight leaves from Travis Field in an hour. Over to Atlanta and then up. It's the fastest way. You're stayin at the Continental. Sally's mother's phone number is on there. I'll call and tell 'em you're comin."

Johnny looked for his hat, realized it was still on his head, and stopped in the doorway. "Rusty..."

"I'll start with that maid, Penelope, and see what I can find. Call me when you get there."