Weber?”
The cold glass of beer almost slipped through John’s fingers.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
John turned toward the little-girl whisper, saw Kerri Franklin’s daughter, Delilah, looking down at him, earnest brown eyes as big as saucers. He twisted around in his seat to see if her mother was behind her. She wasn’t. “Delilah,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “How are you?”
“Okay.” She stood on her toes, peered through the dark room. “You haven’t seen my mother, have you?”
“Your mother? No. Why? Is she here?” John pulled in his stomach, looked toward the back room.
“No. That’s the problem. I don’t know where she is. She went out late this afternoon to refill a prescription for Grandma Rose’s heart medication, and she didn’t come home. Grandma Rose is starting to get a little antsy, so I said I’d go look for her. You haven’t seen her?”Alarm bells began clanging inside John’s head. First the runaway from Hendry County, then Liana Martin, and now Kerri Franklin?
No, he told himself, offering Delilah his most reassuring smile. The runaway from Hendry County was just that—a runaway. As was, in all probability, Liana Martin. As for Kerri Franklin, she had a contentious relationship with her mother at the best of times, and the woman’s heart condition had been stable for years. Kerri had probably run into a friend at the drugstore and, not feeling any great urgency to return home, gone for a cup of coffee. Coffee had stretched into dinner, and maybe even a movie. She’d resurface when she was ready. As would Liana Martin and that other girl. What was her name?
Candy
, he heard the girl’s mother remind him, as she held out the picture of a petite, young woman with haunted, dark eyes.
Actually, her real name is Harlene. Harlene Abbot. But she always hated that name. She called herself Candy. Said it suited her much better than Harlene. And, yes, I know, she’s disappeared before, and I know about the drugs and the men, but this time is different, Sheriff Weber. I know it’s different.
Why is it different this time?
Because no matter where she goes or how long she’s been away, she always calls me on my birthday. And this time, she didn’t. My birthday was the first of March, and I stayed home all day and waited, but she didn’t call.
Mrs. Abbot….
Something’s happened to her, Sheriff Weber. And nobody wants to help me ….
“Sheriff Weber?”
“What? Sorry?” John Weber jumped back into the present tense. Delilah Franklin was looking at him expectantly.
“I heard you’ve been asking questions about Liana Martin.”
“Have you seen her?”
Delilah shook her head. “Not since yesterday. You think something bad’s happened to her?”
“I hope not. How well do you know her?”
“Well, we’ve been in the same class ever since we were kids, but we’re not exactly friends. You know how it is. Liana’s really popular. And really nice. Not like some of the others. She’s always been very nice to me. I like her,” Delilah concluded with an emphatic nod of her head.
“Did she ever say anything to you about any problems she might be having at home or with her boyfriend?”
“Oh, she wouldn’t tell me anything like that. You’d have to ask Ginger or Tanya about stuff like that.”
I already have, he said silently, deciding it was definitely time to go home.
“Sheriff Weber?” Delilah asked again in that incongruous little voice, as her worried eyes made the obvious connection. “You don’t think anything’s happened to my mother, do you?”
“I think your mother’s probably at home right now, worried half to death about you,” John told her, downing the remainder of his beer and leaving a tip for the waitress on the table. “Come on. You need a lift home?”
“That’d be great. Thanks. It’s a long walk. Especially in the dark.” Delilah smiled timidly.
John Weber took her elbow, led her toward the
The cold glass of beer almost slipped through John’s fingers.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
John turned toward the little-girl whisper, saw Kerri Franklin’s daughter, Delilah, looking down at him, earnest brown eyes as big as saucers. He twisted around in his seat to see if her mother was behind her. She wasn’t. “Delilah,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “How are you?”
“Okay.” She stood on her toes, peered through the dark room. “You haven’t seen my mother, have you?”
“Your mother? No. Why? Is she here?” John pulled in his stomach, looked toward the back room.
“No. That’s the problem. I don’t know where she is. She went out late this afternoon to refill a prescription for Grandma Rose’s heart medication, and she didn’t come home. Grandma Rose is starting to get a little antsy, so I said I’d go look for her. You haven’t seen her?”Alarm bells began clanging inside John’s head. First the runaway from Hendry County, then Liana Martin, and now Kerri Franklin?
No, he told himself, offering Delilah his most reassuring smile. The runaway from Hendry County was just that—a runaway. As was, in all probability, Liana Martin. As for Kerri Franklin, she had a contentious relationship with her mother at the best of times, and the woman’s heart condition had been stable for years. Kerri had probably run into a friend at the drugstore and, not feeling any great urgency to return home, gone for a cup of coffee. Coffee had stretched into dinner, and maybe even a movie. She’d resurface when she was ready. As would Liana Martin and that other girl. What was her name?
Candy
, he heard the girl’s mother remind him, as she held out the picture of a petite, young woman with haunted, dark eyes.
Actually, her real name is Harlene. Harlene Abbot. But she always hated that name. She called herself Candy. Said it suited her much better than Harlene. And, yes, I know, she’s disappeared before, and I know about the drugs and the men, but this time is different, Sheriff Weber. I know it’s different.
Why is it different this time?
Because no matter where she goes or how long she’s been away, she always calls me on my birthday. And this time, she didn’t. My birthday was the first of March, and I stayed home all day and waited, but she didn’t call.
Mrs. Abbot….
Something’s happened to her, Sheriff Weber. And nobody wants to help me ….
“Sheriff Weber?”
“What? Sorry?” John Weber jumped back into the present tense. Delilah Franklin was looking at him expectantly.
“I heard you’ve been asking questions about Liana Martin.”
“Have you seen her?”
Delilah shook her head. “Not since yesterday. You think something bad’s happened to her?”
“I hope not. How well do you know her?”
“Well, we’ve been in the same class ever since we were kids, but we’re not exactly friends. You know how it is. Liana’s really popular. And really nice. Not like some of the others. She’s always been very nice to me. I like her,” Delilah concluded with an emphatic nod of her head.
“Did she ever say anything to you about any problems she might be having at home or with her boyfriend?”
“Oh, she wouldn’t tell me anything like that. You’d have to ask Ginger or Tanya about stuff like that.”
I already have, he said silently, deciding it was definitely time to go home.
“Sheriff Weber?” Delilah asked again in that incongruous little voice, as her worried eyes made the obvious connection. “You don’t think anything’s happened to my mother, do you?”
“I think your mother’s probably at home right now, worried half to death about you,” John told her, downing the remainder of his beer and leaving a tip for the waitress on the table. “Come on. You need a lift home?”
“That’d be great. Thanks. It’s a long walk. Especially in the dark.” Delilah smiled timidly.
John Weber took her elbow, led her toward the
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