from Whytheville, not all that far away from Gaffer’s Ridge. Her father said she was supposed to be with friends at a movie, but she didn’t come home when she was expected. They rang her cell, but there was no answer. Her father said she and that phone were inseparable, like all teenagers today. That’s when they suspected something was wrong.
“Savich, she celebrated her sixteenth birthday last Friday, makes her the same age as the other three missing girls.”
“Where’s Rafer Bodine?”
“That’s the thing, Savich. We could have held Rafer until there was a court order, but I didn’t see the point. Rafer left the hospital this morning. If he’s involved in this, it’s my fault.”
“You couldn’t have known, Griffin. Taking another girl now, with the FBI in Gaffer’s Ridge, already asking questions, it’s more than reckless, it’s insanity. You know what to do, Griffin. We’re up to our necks in alligators here. If you need outside assistance, give Bettina a call and she’ll send DeAndre and Slick back. Keep me informed.”
Savich punched off, said to Sherlock, “Another missing teenager near Gaffer’s Ridge. Sixteen years old, like the other three.”
Sherlock stilled. “Is it always like this? One horrible thing after another? All on top of each other? And we’re supposed to fix everything?”
Ruth patted her shoulder. “That’s pretty much our job description. Now, Justice, let’s talk more about the man and woman you saw outside the Blaze Café. Close your eyes and picture them. Think back. Did they look at all familiar to you?”
54
* * *
WHYTHEVILLE, VIRGINIA
FRIDAY AFTERNOON
Griffin studied Linzie Drumm’s distraught parents. Mrs. Drumm was bowed in on herself, rocking back and forth in the visitor’s chair in Sheriff Cruisie’s office. Mr. Drumm was pacing, trying to keep calm, but he was so angry and frightened, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He whirled to face the sheriff and yelled, “What are you going to do now? Three girls already missing—and now our daughter. Yes, she and two friends went to see a movie. Then Linzie told them she had time to do some shopping and they split up. She’s not at home. Her friends don’t know where she is. And all you want is to sit here talking to us?”
Sheriff Bale Cruisie listened to Donny Ray Drumm’s rants. It was his job as sheriff, just as Donny Ray fixed his Ford F-150 and did it well. His patience, however, was nearly at an end. He sat forward. “Listen to me, Donny Ray, I know Linzie. She’s a cute girl, just turned sixteen, and from what I hear, she and her friends are stretching their wings. I know she likes to sneak out and see her girlfriends and go to Buffett’s for hamburgers and to hang out with boys. Why should I believe it was anything more than she left her friends to go look for a good time?”
Wrong thing to say, but before Griffin could defuse the situation, Donny Ray yelled, “You idiot! You make it sound like it’s our little girl’s fault, like she’s loose!”
It looked to Griffin like Mr. Drumm was ready to attack Sheriff Cruisie, and Griffin managed to catch his arm before he smashed his fist into the sheriff’s face. He said in his calm, deep FBI voice, “Mr. Drumm, that’s quite enough. Sit down. Let’s all calm down.”
Maybe it was Griffin’s tone, but Drumm shook himself, seemed to deflate, and sank into the other visitor’s chair. “Sorry, Bale, she’s my little girl. She’s missing, like the other three girls. Three months and no word about any of them.” He looked up at Griffin. “Agent Hammersmith, does the FBI know anything yet? Do you have any kind of plan?”
“Yes, I do,” Griffin said. “Now, Mr. and Mrs. Drumm, I want to show you some photos. Tell me if you recognize any of these men.”
Griffin scrolled up a photo of Agent Ollie Hamish, one of Agent Davis Sullivan, and finally, one of Rafer Bodine.
The parents studied each of the photos, shook their heads.
Griffin said, “I’d like to speak to your daughter’s friends, get the exact time they last saw Linzie, and if they recognize any of these men. The quickest way is for you, Mrs. Drumm, to call her friends and their parents over to your house right away. Can you do that?”
When the Drumms left with something useful to do, Sheriff Cruisie said, “It’s a start. Two of the photos look like FBI agents, right?”
Griffin smiled. “That’s right. We use photos of male and