Sensing the distress in Ian’s voice, I swing my truck around and start heading back towards town. “On my way.”
I park outside the station and make my way inside, not ready for whatever had Ian sounding the way he did.
“Oh, Sheriff, thank goodness you’re here.” Beatrice sighs as I pass by her desk.
“What’s going on?” I ask, looking around and spotting Ian and Cade talking to a couple who look upset.
“Missing girl,” Beatrice whispers.
Fuck. I let out a sigh and walk towards the group.
“Hi. I’m Sheriff Donovan. What can I do for you?” I hold out my hand to the couple.
“Please,” the man chokes out. “Our daughter.”
“She’s been taken,” the woman wails.
“Okay. Can you tell me why you believe she’s been taken?” I ask.
“She was supposed to meet us at Cedar and Sage tonight for dinner and never showed. We called and called and can’t get a hold of her. It’s not like her to not show or to not communicate with us.”
“And we’ve heard about the other women,” the man adds, making his wife weep harder.
“How old is your daughter?”
“She’s twenty-eight.”
“Hair colour?” I ask, although I suspect I already know the answer by looking at her parents.
“Blonde,” the woman chokes out.
“Okay, I’ll have everyone out searching. What’s her name and do you have a recent picture we could use?”
“Yes. Yes. Here. Her name is Vivienne.” The woman pulls out her phone, going through it until she holds up a photo. The woman is a dead ringer for the others. Definitely our guy’s type.
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Can we take a copy of that?”
“Yes, absolutely. Please, whatever it takes to bring our girl home.”
“When was the last time you spoke to her? Does she live with you or anyone else? Is there anyone we can check with that might know anything?” I ask while Ian jots everything down behind me.
“No. She lives alone. She’s recently divorced and has only just moved back to town. I’m not sure if there is anyone she talks to. But she works at Fields of Daisies. She had the night off tonightand the plan was to meet at Cedar and Sage for dinner. That was it.”
“We spoke to her last night to confirm. That’s the last time we’ve heard from her,” the dad adds.
“Okay. What’s her address?” I ask.
“She’s the fourth house in on Maple Lane. We drove by and knocked, but she’s not there and neither is her car.”
“What kind of car does she drive?”
“A grey Ford Edge.”
“We’ll have every deputy out looking, along with myself. If you could go see Beatrice at the front desk, she will get your info and do anything you need in the meantime.”
“Thank you,” the couple says together before walking over to Beatrice.
