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We crossed the street, speed walking up to a man who looked at us with fear on his face.

“Excuse us, sir. We need your help.”

The man with brown hair and a beard looked at us with suspicion. “Not sure I can help you with anything. I’m trying to find dinner.”

“We can help with that,” Arrow suggested.

The man’s face beamed with hope. “Been tough lately. Shelters are full. Those guys in there are ruthless. It’s better to be out here, you know?”

“I’ve got some food for you. I’ll be right back,” Arrow said. “If you can help these ladies, that would be great.”

Arrow crossed the street, heading to his car.

“What’s your name?” I asked. “I’m Vivian, and this is Kaylee.”

“Fred Rugg.” He smiled, and I noticed a chipped tooth. He probably hadn’t gotten a cleaning in a while. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“We saw you on the news holding a sign,” I said.

His eyes sparked. “It worked? A little girl was looking for a friend. She asked if I could make a sign and join the crowd. They were with a news station nearby.”

“Is this the girl?” I swiped to a picture of Aimee.

Fred nodded. “Yeah. Sweet girl.”

Kaylee looked up at him. “Did she say anything else? Who was with her?”

“Are you the friend she’s looking for?”

“I am.” Kaylee beamed.

“She was with a well-dressed man. He bought her a lot of food and stepped away when he got a phone call. I sat near her with my single hamburger. She offered me her fries and some nuggets and asked me to write those words on the sign.”

“She said if someone came looking for her, to tell them she was going to visit the Mount Centauri Museum soon. Then the man returned, and they packed up the food to go.”

“What did the man look like?” I asked.

Fred shrugged. “Tall. Dark hair. Intense look in the eye. You could tell he was rich and educated.”

That could also be Arrow’s description.

“Did Aimee look terrified?”

“No. Maybe a little nervous. She didn’t talk to him much.”

Arrow approached and gave Fred some food he’d purchased from the drugstore.

“Thanks, man.” Fred beamed and dug into the pack of muffins.

“Fred was very helpful,” I said to Arrow.

“Good.” Arrow studied Fred and gestured to the word Army splashed across his sweatshirt under his unzipped coat. “You were in the Army?”

“Eight years. Got injured and came home to work for a warehouse. They closed down, then the apartment building I lived in burned down a month ago.” He shook his head. “Hard to bounce back.”

“Thank you for your service,” Arrow said without mentioning his military background. “What did you do in the warehouse?”

“Forklift driver.”