Thread of Fear by Laura Griffin

Author:Laura Griffin
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-05-18T08:12:18+00:00

CHAPTER 11

Jack jerked open the door to the Grainger County Sheriff's Office and stepped inside. The place was empty except for the potbellied deputy talking on the phone and the pit bull guarding Randy's office.

"Afternoon, Myrna." Jack approached her desk, which sat strategically in front of her boss's door. "The sheriff in?"

She chewed frantically, swallowed. Jack had caught her biting into a Hostess Cupcake.

"He's left for the day." She cast a disapproving look at Jack's shiner. "I can take a message for him, if you like."

"Funny thing. His wife thought I'd find him here."

"You just missed him." She glanced at the envelope Jack was carrying and held out her hand. "Got something to drop off? I'll see that he gets it."

Jack pulled his phone from his pocket. He dialed a few numbers, and a buzz emanated from behind the sheriff's door.

"Well, what do you know? Sounds like he's in."

Jack strode past Myrna and yanked open the door. The sheriff was leaning back in his chair, boots propped on the desk.

He scowled. "Goddamn it, Jack. You can't just burst in here."

In two strides, Jack was looming over the sheriff's desk. He flung the envelope at his chest.

"What the hell is this?" Randy sat up, his face reddening.

"Veronica Morales."

"What?"

"Veronica Morales," Jack repeated. "Nineteen-year-old from Hamlin."

Randy squinted at him and tossed the envelope on his desk. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"Shit, I guess not." Jack plunked his hands on his hips. "Let me refresh your memory. She went missing New Year's Eve six years ago. Last seen at Three Forks Barbecue in Grainger County. Her parents reported her disappearance to you, and you told them to take a hike. You remember now, Sheriff?"

Randy glanced past him, and for the first time Jack noticed someone else in the room. Bob Spivey was lounging comfortably on Randy's sofa, cowboy hat beside him, brim up. The gray felt Stetson—which he swapped for a white straw one every summer—was the mayor's trademark.

Jack nodded. "Bob."

Spivey quirked an eyebrow. It probably wasn't good politics to have a throwdown with Randy in front of his father-in-law, but Jack didn't particularly give a fuck at the moment.

He turned his attention back to Randy. "You should check out that file there. It's chock-full of good information. This girl's parents talked to two people from the restaurant who saw Veronica get into a gray sedan around six p.m. on New Year's Eve. That was the last anyone ever saw her."

Randy had recovered some of his composure, but his cheeks were still splotchy. He waved a hand at the envelope. "They should have filed a missing persons report."

"No shit? That's what I said, too. Thing is, they tried to. Repeatedly. Until one of your lazy deputies got annoyed and threatened to call INS."

Randy leaned back in his chair. "That didn't happen."

"Didn't it? You might want to check out that file. Turns out, mom and dad thought to write down the deputy's name. They also went back to Three Forks every day

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