Page 71 of What She Saw
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know Patty that well. Has she taken off like this before?”
“Not according to her mother. She always hurries home to the baby. She was due home late yesterday.”
He thought about the abandoned burger stand that had been ransacked by hungry crowds. “Tell her I’ll be there in a half hour.”
“Will do, Sheriff.”
He hung up and downed the last of his coffee. He settled his holster and gun on his hip. As much as he bemoaned the interruption, a glance at a half-full whisky bottle reminded him he never got along well with extra time.
In his vehicle, he shifted gears and pressed on the accelerator. He didn’t slow until he was pulling into the office’s parking lot. Inside, he was greeted by ringing phones. Seemed busy for a Saturday in a small town, but this was only his second Saturday in Dawson.
He found Brenda behind her console, scribbling notes and nodding. “Yes, sir. I’ll tell the sheriff.”
She ended the call and swiveled in her chair toward him. “Sara is in the conference room waiting for you.”
“Thanks, Brenda.” He stopped at the break room and poured two cups of coffee and then found the small ten-by-ten room that served as their conference space.
Sara Grayson wasn’t sitting at the small round table but staring at the old sheriff’s picture on the wall. An oversize T-shirt covered her thick frame. Faded jeans tightened around her legs and ankles. She had short graying hair. He saw no traces of the energetic Patty.
“Ms. Grayson.”
When she turned, he held up a cup. She accepted it but didn’t sip.
“Why don’t you have a seat?”
Dark circles smudged under her eyes. “I don’t need to sit to tell you my daughter is missing.”
He set his cup on the table and pulled out a chair for her. She didn’t move. He resisted the urge to roll the tightness from his shoulders. He grabbed a legal pad and pen from a small credenza.
“Please, have a seat. I’m dead on my feet and I won’t sit until you do.”
She drew in a deep breath and sat.
He angled his chair toward her and lowered into the seat. “Tell me what’s happening.”
“What’s happening? My daughter didn’t come home last night. I called the diner this morning. Buddy said she left the burger tent last night and didn’t return. He said she’s fine and just messing with him. But that’s not Patty. She comes home as quick as she can to see the baby.”
“Where’s the baby now?”
“I left her with Jody, Patty’s neighbor.”
“Do you watch the baby for Patty while she’s working?”
“No. Jody does. They trade babysitting favors.”
“What’s Jody’s last name?”
“Thompson. Jody Thompson.”
“When is the last time you saw Patty?”
“When Patty dropped the baby off Friday morning, Jody was out of town. I knew it was going to be almost twenty-four hours watchingthe baby, but she begged for my help.” She dropped her gaze to her calloused palm.
“Are you and Patty close?” Natural for a mother and daughter to be close, but that wasn’t always the case.
“Not since she dated Larry Summers. I told her he was trouble, but she didn’t listen. He got her pregnant, stole from her, and left her.”
He scribbled the man’s name on the pad. “When is the last time Patty saw Larry?”
