Tracker

I'm here.

Hello?

Anybody there?

Cut the crap. I just want to see that he's okay.

What the hell?

You made a big mistake, Billy boy.

Please.

Please, I just want to...

Hey, Randy, you get anything on that number that I sent you?

Oh, yeah. I got it.

It's registered to a David Pearson.

-You run him down? -Mm-hmm.

He died in 2003.

Death was ruled an apparent suicide.

Same year my dad died.

-What else you got? -Well, he was a scientist,

worked at a research facility in California.

But the weird thing is, couldn't find any public grants

or any documented funding for any of his work.

Anything on his previous work?

Not much of any digital trail.

But what I did find was that the dude used to live

in Hampton, Virginia, before he moved to California.

-Red flag. -Hampton?

Mm-hmm.

Dude gave me straight-up government vibes, man.

I mean, you know, Hampton is basically Langley,

or whatever other government super-secret organization

that can scramble your eggs good.

Or look, the guy could have just been a lazy-ass academic

hanging out in Hampton,

just wanted to pick up sticks and go to Cali.

I don't know.

Where'd you get the number anyway?

-Guy's not missing. -My father.

He had the number hidden in an old journal. It was a...

strange thing to hide, you know?

Must have meant something to him.

Yeah, so you want me to keep digging, huh?

For now, yeah.

I'm headed back home to Echo Ridge for a job.

Velma told me.

It's the owner of Little Fork Restaurant.

Oh, you about to get some home cooking?

I don't know about your mama, but when I come home,

-my mama throws down. -I don't know.

It's not really my mom's speed, you know?

Maybe if I'm lucky, I get some pancakes.

All right, let me know if you find out

anything more on that number, okay?

And please do me a favor, keep this between us.

Of course, man. You got it.

Sit. Come on. I made pancakes.

Your father did the same thing.

Standing up, looking out the window, pacing.

Drove me crazy.

Sorry.

Long drive. Thank you.

Well, I guess the only way to get you to come visit is a job.

I wish Dory'd come back and bring the kids.

-You know, see where she's from. -Yeah.

It's probably hard for her, given what happened here, you know?

That was a long time ago.

I did the best I could.

You have her number, you know. If you want to talk to her, you could call her.

Have you seen her recently?

Yeah, actually I did.

I was driving through Wyoming and...

we saw each other for a few minutes, caught up.

Don't ask me about Russell.

You wanna know how he's doing? I have absolutely no idea what he's up to.

Yeah, nobody does.

Probably for the best.

Just good to have you back.

Actually, I gotta go meet Angela at the restaurant here in a bit.

Yeah, I saw her when I stopped in at Little Fork.

She was real worried about her brother, Bill.

So I gave her your number, told her what you do.

-I hope you don't mind. -No, don't mind at all.

Gives me a chance to come home,

check in on you.

I don't need to be checked in on, but I'll take it.

You've got any idea what happened to Bill?

You know, maybe he started drinking again.

That rumor spread, and the whole town's talking about it.

Yeah. Yeah, I know how this place works.

No, it's not the same place.

Folks from the city have started moving in.

Echo Ridge is changing.

-Change can be good. -Not this kind.

You know, the sheriff busted a meth cookhouse

down by the old Sawyer place last month.

Things used to be...

I don't know, simpler here.

Sounds like you and I remember this place a little differently.

I told Angela that you'd find him.

I'm here if you need me,

but you probably know this place better than anybody.

Yeah.

I gotta go meet her. Thank you for this.

Hey, I'm doing laundry today,

so leave me whatever you need washed.

Thank you for that, but I'm fine. I can do my own laundry.

I know you can. Doesn't mean I can't help out.

I don't get to do mom things for you very often.

Just let me have this.

My laundry. Okay. Thank you. I appreciate it.

Angela.

-Thanks for coming so fast, Colter. -Yeah.

We've closed the restaurant since Bill's been missing.

A little foreclosing. It's like closing a church around here.

-It never happens. -I know.

-Times are changing, I guess. Come on in. -Yeah.

The place still looks pretty good.

That's nice of you to say.

Truth is, we've tried to keep up,

but everything gets a little older and breaks a little more often.

Coffee?

Black, please. Thank you.

You got rid of the old jukebox.

Yeah, I lost that fight.

But Bill's always doing what he can to bring in new business.

Hell, we've got an Impossible Burger

on the menu now for the new folks in town.

We also took out the old video games in the corner.

I noticed that.

I remember I used to beg my dad for quarters so I could play.

Used to say it was brain rot.

Never stopped your brother Russell.

-Mm-mmm. -He used to steal my tips off the counter

to get quarters and sugar packs to make his Coke extra sweet.

Probably still does that.

Tell me what happened the night Bill disappeared.

Anything strange, out of the ordinary?

My mother mentioned he might be drinking again.

That's just gossip.

He was still going to meetings twice a week

in the church basement.

Trust me, I go with him.

No way Bill fell off the wagon.

People in this town like to talk.

Whatever you tell me is just going to stay between the two of us.

What do you think happened?

Bill was obsessing about this man and a kid that

came through the restaurant about six months ago.

This kid couldn't have been more than 11 or 12.

-Poor thing looked a mess. -Did you get a name?

Chris McCain.

Bill found that out after he'd been looking into

what happened to him.

Tell me about that night.

The guy with him, nobody had seen him before.

Got some real creepy vibes off the way he was looking around

the place, treating that kid.

You'll eat when I'm done.

You think he had the kid here against his will?

He didn't try to run off,

but he had this broken look to him

like he was scared of the guy.

Ah!

I'm going to the can.

Don't talk to anybody.

You okay, son?

Yes, sir. Thank you.

Is that your dad?

You sure everything's okay?

Yes, sir. I'm fine.

That fresh, Pedro?

Right out of the oven.

We make the best peach pie in the whole state.

Here now.

Look at that.

There you go.

I don't have any money.

Hey, what's that?

No, come here. Right there.

Oh, look at that.

You had a silver dollar right in your ear.

I know you're a little old for that one,

but the only magic trick I know.

The pie's on the house,

and you keep the silver dollar.

Thank you, sir.

Son, if you're in any kind of trouble,

you just tell me, okay?

I didn't order any pie, and I sure ain't paying for it.

Nope, nope, no charge.

That's on me.

So, you live around here?

Mind your own business, old man.

How do you two know each other?

-Hm? -

-You all right, Pedro? -Yeah, all good.

Hey, folks, I'm sorry.

-Is everybody okay? -

The guy must have drug Chris out of here fast.

Did you get a name off a credit card, maybe,

-or a description of the car? -Paid with cash.

Never saw his car.

Bill looked for him in the parking lot, but nothing.