Lost. Helen Myers R.
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She made a mistake and ruthlessly scratched it out. Then, because that made an even uglier mess, she ripped up the form and tossed it away. Her rigid stance told him that only pride was holding her together.
“Look at me, Mike.”
She ignored him.
“Then do me a favor—go home. I’ll have someone collect Buck and bring him to the house, too. You’ve been up all night. You can’t—”
“Don’t!” she ground out. “Just find my sister. That’s all I want from you. Find Faith, and then leave me the hell alone—!”
“Chief? Chief!”
14
Norma Headly’s urgent call from across the street canceled any hope Jared had of trying to reason with Mike. He loped over to see what was up.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Norma gestured toward the station. “Loyal’s on the phone. I’m not surprised that the town Clearing House for Information heard the news, but it’s been some time since I’ve heard him this upset—and he hasn’t even left home yet.”
Loyal, the mayor of Split Creek and owner of the local barber shop, also owned one of the six city blocks in town, so it wasn’t a surprise that he’d heard something. He knew everybody and their pet cat-dog-gerbil and, since the death last year of his wife, he had lots of free time to indulge in his second passion—listening for hours to his short wave and police radios.
“He probably picked us up when we said we were calling in the sheriff earlier this morning.” Jared walked with her to the station and held the door open for her. “What specifically did he say?”
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