Here at Ray Wilde Investigations, I don’t get a lot of high-profile crimes or sensational cases. I find the lost—pets, children, silver-alert oldsters, and I look into many sad but predictable incidents in our semi-decayed mill town. We don’t often get fancy plots and subtle motives, just booze, drugs, or despair, with aftermaths full of often genuine regret. Regret, sadly, that doesn’t often lead to reformation. I get a lot of return business, and I can tell you that running a small detective outfit in a poor town is a master class in sorrow and misfortune. So, that’s pretty much