front. Clouds were piling up and darkening, and she could tell by the way people were holding on to their hats and coats that the wind was rising. It made her wish she was down in her basement apartment, and not on the upper level of a high-rise office building, staring down the possibility of a late-season tornado.
* * *
Charlie drove straight to the office without conscious thought, then wondered how the hell he’d gotten there as the high-rise suddenly appeared before him.
It wasn’t until he turned off the street into the parking lot that he even noticed the building storm. He got out, facing the wind, and then hurried across the parking lot into the building.
Wyrick was still at the windows when she heard the office door open out front. Before she could get turned around, the door slammed shut and Charlie strode into his office, bringing energy and the scent of cold air with him.
“Looking rough out there, isn’t it?” he said, as he left his Stetson on the hat rack and hung his jacket up in the closet.
“I hate stormy weather. You have mail and messages from yesterday on your desk,” she said, and left the room.
Charlie ignored the brusqueness of her comment as typical Wyrick, then got a coffee and a doughnut and took them to his desk.
He went through the mail, then the messages, made notes on some of them and tossed the others, but he couldn’t focus. He could hear Wyrick’s voice in the outer office and knew she was on the phone, so he pulled up his email and began reading through the messages.
There were a couple of local cases he would have considered taking, but none of them were urgent, and none had to do with missing children. As soon as he heard her hang up, he headed to her desk.
She was obviously preoccupied and staring off into space. And there was a look on her face he’d never seen before.
“Hey,” he said.
Wyrick flinched and then turned her head.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Merlin is dying.”
Charlie blinked. He thought (a) Merlin was fictitious, and (b) he was already dead. Then he remembered that was her landlord’s name.
“So is Annie,” he said.
Wyrick took a deep breath and then put both hands on her desk, almost as if she was holding herself in place.
“‘I’m sorry’ is a weak and stupid thing to say about something like that, but I am at a loss for anything better.”
Charlie heard the tremor in her voice.
“I’m sorry about Merlin,” he said.
She nodded.
“Come into my office,” he said.
Wyrick followed Charlie to the wet bar, then watched him pour two shots of whiskey.
He shoved one at her and picked up the other.
“What’s this for?” she asked, as he lifted his glass in a toast.
“For Annie and Merlin,” he said.
“On a wing and a prayer,” Wyrick said.
Their glasses clinked, and then they tossed back the shots in one quick gulp.
It was like swallowing fire.
Wyrick’s eyes watered.
Charlie took a deep breath.
“I hate this is happening,” she said, and then set the glass down on the bar and walked out.
“So do I,” Charlie muttered, blinking back tears as he set the glasses in the sink.
* * *
Trish Caldwell walked into the principal’s office and approached the secretary.
“I need to speak to Mr. Ramey.”
“He’s getting ready to leave for a meeting across town. Can you—?”
“It’s about Tony Dawson,” Trish said.
The secretary didn’t hesitate further. “Just a moment,” she said, and buzzed the office.
“Angie, I told you to hold my—”
“Trish Caldwell is asking to speak with you, sir. She says it’s about Tony Dawson.”
“Send her in,” Ramey said, and then stood. A few moments later, Trish Caldwell came in. “Have a seat.”
Trish sat, her hands fisted in her lap. “I need to tell you several things. First... Tony Dawson is alive.”
“Oh my Lord! That is wonderful news!” Ramey said.
Trish’s stomach was in knots. “You also need to know that Randall Wells and Justin Young have been arrested for lying to the FBI about what happened to Tony, and then leaving him for dead.”
Ramey gasped. “What? You’re not serious.”
“Yes, sir, I am.” And then she began to explain the whole story, including her unwitting part in it. By the time she had finished, she was in tears. “He would never have been tricked into the trip if I’d just told him I’d once dated Randall. Yes, I should have told him, but I take no blame for what those two did to him.”
“Where is he?” Ramey asked.
“He’s in