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He paused and looked between Payne and Byrth.

Harris then said, “And this is where it gets interesting: Stanley said he seemed to recall that comment ended by suggesting that drug dealers clean up after their own.”

Payne was shaking his head.

Harris went on: “And ended with something along the lines of ‘We clean up the rats like those in the Philly Inn.’ ”

“Jesus!” Payne said. “It actually used the name?”

Harris shrugged. “I don’t know. And Stanley’s not sure. But there was no question that he meant that motel.”

He pointed to the printouts.

“The reason he doesn’t know is because that comment is gone. When Stanley clicked back, he found his comment, but the one from Death.Before.Dishonor, which had been immediately after his, was gone. And this one was next in line.”

Payne and Byrth read:

From HowYouseGuysDoin’ (9:22 a.m.):

And amen to that! I'll provide the ammo! This nonsense has got to stop. The inmates are running the asylum!

Recommend [1] Click Here to Report Abuse “Stanley said that he guessed there were enough reports of the comment’s abusive language that the online editor at the paper pulled it off. That’s what I was trying to figure out when you guys came in; I was on the phone with different folks at the newspaper.”

Payne said, “It shouldn’t be a problem finding it. It’s at least got to be in the backup files on the Bulletin’s computer system mainframe. What I’m wondering is if we’d have any luck tracing the postings back to their source.”

Harris nodded, then looked at Byrth. Payne followed his eyes.

Payne noticed that Byrth was deep in thought.

And that he had the dry white bean going across the fingers of his left hand. That had been what caught Harris’s attention.

Byrth said, “It is common for, say, an arsonist to stand in a nearby crowd to watch the firemen put out his handiwork.”

Payne considered that, then picked up on his train of thought.

“Yeah,” he said, “and these comments could very well be just another manifestation of that behavior.”

Payne then felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

He pulled it out and saw that he’d received a text message from his sister.

It read:

Amy Payne Against my advice as a professional and a friend, I tried to steer her away… You better take care of this one, Wyatt Earp!!

Payne shook his head.

What in hell is she talking about?

He made a face as he slipped the phone back into his pocket.

Harris and Byrth noticed that.

“Everything okay?” Harris said.

“Hell if I know,” Payne said, shaking his head. “Women.”

That triggered appreciative chuckles.