“Yeah, we did. A few times. No answer,” Linc said tersely.
“Try again.”
“I’ll do that now,” Linc murmured. He reached for his phone again and realized he didn’t know her number nor had he programmed it into his directory.
He cleared his throat. “Ah, Ned, could you give me the number for her cell?”
His youngest brother grabbed the phone from him and punched in Mary Jo’s number, then handed it back.
Linc waited impatiently for the call to connect. After what seemed like minutes, the phone automatically went to voice mail. “She’s not answering that, either.”
“Maybe her cell battery’s dead,” the sheriff said. “It could be she’s out of range, too.”
Actually, Linc was curious as to why the sheriff himself had responded to dispatch. One would think the man had better things to do—like dealing with
Troy Davis grinned. “I was on my way to my daughter’s house for dinner when I heard the call.”
“So you decided to check us out.”
“Something like that.”
Linc liked the sheriff. He seemed a levelheaded guy, whereas his deputies were a pair of overzealous new-bies, hoping for a bit of excitement. He’d bet they were bored out of their minds in a quiet little town like Cedar Cove. The call about this supposed break-in had sent these two into a giddy state of importance.
“The only essential thing here is finding our sister,” Linc reiterated to the sheriff.
“The problem is, we don’t know
The sheriff rubbed the side of his face. “Did you ask around town?”
No one at the pub had been able to help. “Not really. We asked the guys at some tavern, but they didn’t seem aware of much except how full their glasses were.”
The sheriff grinned and seemed to appreciate Linc’s wry sense of humor.
“She’s
“Yeah.” Mel once more thrust his arms out in front of him and bloated his cheeks for emphasis.
Linc rolled his eyes.
“Wait,” Deputy Pierpont said thoughtfully. “Seems to me I heard something about a pregnant woman earlier.”
That got Linc’s attention. “Where?” he asked urgently. “When?”
“I got a friend who’s a firefighter and he mentioned it.”
“What did he say?”
Deputy Pierpont shrugged. “Don’t remember. His name’s Hutton. You could go to the fire station and ask.”
“Will do.” Linc stepped forward and shook hands with the sheriff and then, for good measure and goodwill, with each of the deputies. “Thanks for all your help.”
Troy Davis nodded. “You tell your sister she shouldn’t have worried you like this.”
“Oh, I’ll tell her,” Linc promised. He had quite a few other things he intended to say to her, too.
After receiving directions to the fire station, they jumped back in the truck. Finally they were getting somewhere, Linc told himself with a feeling of satisfaction. It was just a matter of time before they caught up with her.
It didn’t take them long to locate the fire station.
Rather than repeat their earlier mistakes—or what Linc considered mistakes—he said, “Let me do the talking, understand?”
“Okay,” Ned agreed quickly enough.
“Mel?”
“Oh, all right.”
They walked into the station house and asked to speak to the duty chief. The man eyed them cautiously.
Linc got immediately to the point. “I understand that earlier today you responded to an incident involving a young pregnant woman. A firefighter named Hutton was mentioned in connection with this call. Is that correct?”
When the chief didn’t reply, Linc added, “If so, we believe that’s our sister.”
The man raised his eyebrows, as if determined not to give out any information.
“She needs her family, chief.”
There must’ve been some emotion in Linc’s voice, some emotion he didn’t even know he’d revealed, because the man hesitated, then excused himself. He returned a few minutes later, followed by a second man.
“This is Mack McAfee. He’s the EMT who responded to the call.”