Lost

“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything!”

As she stormed off, Jared fought the strong urge to hit something.

“Sorry,” Garth said. “But you deserved that.”

“I think I told you to take a hike.”

“You owe me an answer, and I can’t give you much time.”

Jared knew that, and knew what he was up against. He was a small-town cop, used to settling drunken brawls and officiating over fender benders. His department hadn’t even been able to resolve most of the burglaries that had been on the increase in the past year. This situation with Faith was fast rising out of his league, and Cuddy’s, as well. “Give me another twenty-four hours before you make any announcements. People are going to be upset enough about Faith to make everyone cautious, which is what you want, anyway.”

“Except for one technicality, namely, the who in the fear quotient. No.” Garth shook his head. “If you don’t have news by noon, or, better yet, have Faith back safe and sound, I’m going to hold an assembly and make an appropriate announcement. We owe them that. There needs to be time to notify parents and assume safeguards.”

Jared stepped back from the car. He’d lost ground and had to accept it. “Do what you can.”

“Noon, then. And that’s only if nothing else happens. If we’re contacted again, or—” Garth started the engine and shifted into gear “—well, I don’t suppose I need to tell you that’s when choice will be out of my hands, too.”

“You’re perfectly clear, all right,” Jared muttered after the departing car.

Despite Garth’s having complicated things for him, Jared wasn’t totally lacking in sympathy for his friend. It was the situation and the stress that was making him overlook so much—like asking about Garth’s bandaged hand. Hell, had things turned out differently, Garth would be his brother-in-law.

After the death of Jessica and Sandy’s parents, Garth had been almost a foster father to Jess’s kid sister. Later, once she’d earned her business degree, he’d given her a job at the school despite some minor flack about nepotism. Fortunately, Sandy had proven herself capable, running the entire administrative office, as well as coaching the girl’s twirling team. When the team brought home their first state championship trophy during a dry year when the boys couldn’t win anything for the town, Sandy had been a local heroine. And that was why Faith’s disappearance was going to be so hard on the community: the ex-high school cheerleader inspired the same affection from people.

Drawing a deep breath, he went in search of Michaele, and found her hunched over her workstation preparing a service form. Jared noted the pronounced shaking of her hands, and the way she kept clenching her teeth as though fighting some emotional onslaught.

He wanted to hold her, as he had last night, to offer her comfort and maybe take a little for himself. But he knew that trying would set her off. “I’m sorry,” he said instead.

“I had a right to know.”

No, she wasn’t going to beat around the bush, he thought. She’d never been that way about anything, except when it came to him. That was one of the many things he admired about her…when it wasn’t driving him nuts.

“I know. Why do you think I’m here instead of back at the office like I should have been ten minutes ago?”

“Don’t let me keep you.”

“What you heard me say to Garth, I meant. I don’t believe there’s a connection. Equally critical for you to understand is that no matter why I do what I do, hurting you isn’t on the agenda.”

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?”