I said, “I — well — she’s a nice girl. It means a lot to me — I should never have lost track of her,”
“Oh.” She smiled. “Well, I wish I could help you, but I can’t. I’ve got a customer in there. In case she shows up again, do you want to leave a message for her?”
I shook my head and said, “If she’s in town, I’ll find her myself,” and then added with a little smile, “I think it would be better that way.”
“It would for a fact,” the woman said.
I trudged on down the street to a cleaning establishment. It was a combination residence and business place, with a counter half across the front room. I pulled out the picture, said, “Know this girl?”
The woman who was in charge of the place looked at the picture, said, “Yes. She used to place a lot of work through me. That’s Miss Cutler, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Know where she is now?”
“No, I don’t — that is, I can’t tell you where she’s living.”
“She’s here in town, isn’t she?”
“Oh, yes. I saw her on the street about — oh, let me see, I guess it was about six weeks ago. I don’t get uptown very often. This place keeps me tied down. I can’t leave it unless I have someone else to put in charge.”