“Where’d you
go?” the policeman asked.
“When? The day my mother was kidnapped?”
He nodded.
“I went to work, but I’d overslept. My
wife tossed and turned all night. Mr. Winkleman fired me for being late, so I
went to the Department of Economic Security. I had to find another job. Then my
car blew a tire on the freeway, and I was stranded for hours. When I finally got
home, I found my wife had gone into labor. I rushed her to the hospital but couldn’t
get there in time. Our baby boy was born in the back seat.”
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