Reese

“Did you get a good look at this guy?”

“It was dark and raining, but yes. Will you find Mick?”

“I’m going to try.”

I look behind me at Law and motion for him to come closer. He walks over slowly and crouches beside me.

“Don’t suppose you still have a sketch artist in your pocket?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Carrie is retired now, but she’ll help out for sure. Her father was a veteran that spent a lot of time on the streets when he came home from Vietnam,” he tells me quietly.

“Hey, Bill, do you think you’d talk to a friend of mine and tell her what this man looks like? It would help us a lot with finding Mick.”

He looks at me, his eyes a little wild as he pulls his dog closer to him.

“You’d be doing me a huge favor. And of course, you can use the showers and have some dinner while you wait.” I’d offer more, but I can see he’s ready to bolt. I don’t want to overwhelm him.

“Please?” I squeeze his hand.

He’s quiet for a moment before squeezing my hand back.

“Okay.”

“I’ll go call Carrie,” Law tells me, standing up with his cell phone already in his hand. He turns away to make the call.

Hank takes Law’s spot beside me.

“Hey, Bill, right? Want me to show you around and get you and your dog something to eat? These young ones are always on the go, doing a mile a minute. I can’t keep up with them, so it would be nice to have some company.”

Hank is getting an extra special Christmas present this year.

Bill looks at him for a minute before nodding. “That would be fine, thank you,” he replies quietly, making me blow out a breath of relief.

Blink offers him his hand and helps him up as I stand too. I smile, watching as Hank walks Bill out the door, chatting about fishing, of all things as the dog stays protectively by his side.

Once he closes the door, I collapse in the chair as Law closes in on me.

“We need to report this. I can do it if you need to keep a low profile.”

“Do it. I want this guy found as much as Bill does. I’m not in this for the glory of catching the bad guy, Law. I just want to bring these people home.”

He crouches in front of me and places his hands on my knees.

“I know, but you need to prepare yourself, sweetheart.”

“Prepare for what?” Graves asks, coming up behind Law.

I look at Graves and bite my lip.

“Forty-eight hours is the window within which most people are found alive. After that, the odds drop dramatically.”

“But some do make it, right?” he looks between us.

“Of course. There are always exceptions to the rule,” I agree. There are thousands of cases where people have been found—days, weeks, months, and even years later.

“What happens if we are too late?” Vega questions.

I look over and see him watching me with his arms folded across his chest.