“Mine, too,” Asher says, coming from around the corner and fishing his keys out of his pocket. Pam’s eyes light up when she sees him. She sits up a little straighter. These two have been dancing around each other for months. “I’m going to be on call tonight. You did it last time.”
I think about it for a moment. I normally like to be the one on call when a storm hits, but maybe it’s best to let Asher do it this time. My mind is somewhere else right now. I want to find what I believe is a homeless girl. I’m worried she is about to get stuck out in a storm. Maybe I could stake out the house tonight. She might try to go back there without knowing the bank is about to board the place up.
“All right,” I tell him. Pam hands me a sheet of paper, and I take it from her, looking over the weather report. I was right. The storm is moving in sooner than had been reported last night.
“Close the schools an hour early. Town shuts down at six thirty. Get the word out. I want the streets empty tonight.”
“On it,” Pam chirps, picking up her phone to start making calls.
I hand the paper to Asher for him to look over.
“Fuck,” he mumbles.
“Mouth,” I warn him, my eyes glancing to Pam, who rolls her eyes.
“She’s got five brothers. I think she’s heard the word—”
I level Asher with a hard stare before he can finish his sentence. He puts his hands up in a you win motion.
“I’ll be in my office,” I tell them and leave them to it. I fire up my computer and pull out the note from my pocket. The number Betty gave me comes with it and I toss it in the trash. I stare at the note for a minute as my computer loads, running my finger across it before finally putting it into my wallet. I want to keep it close to me for some reason.
When my computer finally loads I search for the name Mark Young. Multiples pop up, but I click on the one that has the address on Shine listed as their home address.
The basics come up first. His last known address—Shine Street. His age. It says he’s fifty-five, but the picture of him makes him look older. It also says he’s married, but no children are listed. Retired from army.
I keep clicking, and arrest reports pop up one after another. All the arrests start off with him having too much to drink, which leads to either a fight or trespassing after being told to leave.
The reports don’t have enough information for my liking, reminding me why I got elected to sheriff so fast. That last one half-assed everything and the county was all too happy to be rid of him. I didn't even have to do anything when I ran for the position. It was pretty much handed to me. I’ve always been known as the town’s golden boy. Even more so after all the medals that got pinned to me when I was in the Rangers.
I know who will have all the information I’ll need. I push up from my chair and head back toward the front of the building. Pam is clicking away at her computer. I lean up against the wall, and she stops typing and looks over at me.
“Sheriff?” She tucks a piece of loose hair behind her ear.
“Mark Young,” I say simply.
She shakes her head, a sad smile pulling at her lips. “Haven't heard that name in a while. He up to no good? I thought Tom banned him from the Snowdin?”
I don’t answer her question but ask one of my own. “When’s the last time you saw him?”
Pam’s eyebrows scrunch together like she’s thinking. “God, it’s been a while now that I think on it. I’ve seen his daughter at the store a few times. I’d heard something about him being laid up. That his leg finally gave out on him.”
“Daughter?” My mind gets stuck on the one word. I knew he had to have a daughter, with that bedroom, but the question is, where are they? Because my gut is telling me that girl is still staying in that house. Living in her bedroom.
“Yeah, pretty little thing. Looks just like her mama.”
I feel a little relief at the mention of a mother. Maybe the girl is with her. “His file said he was married, but I couldn't find anything on the wife.”
“You probably won’t. She disappeared about ten years ago. Just up and left. Guess she got sick of Mark’s shenanigans. Still, how could a mother leave her little girl like that? Especially with a father that couldn't even take care of himself.”
“How old is the daughter?” I ask.
Pam ponders for a second. “I think eighteen now. Pretty sure she’s a senior over at the high school. I see her walking to school sometimes. See her over at the grocery store every now and then picking stuff up, but that's about it. Real quiet girl. Keeps to herself. Heck, most of the time she’s got her head down and her hair in her face so you can’t really see her.”
I breathe a little easier knowing she’s eighteen. The idea of having to call social services put a pit in my stomach. We don't have anything in our county to handle that. Our town isn’t tiny, but it isn’t big either. It’s just big enough to see new faces pass through but small enough that people still get into everyone’s business and gossip spreads easily.
“His record had a long list of arrests. How’d he keep custody of the daughter?” One would have thought someone would have called child services before.
Pam gives a little shrug. “They did get called. She got pulled in once and was gone for about a month. Mark got his crap together and got her back. It didn't last long, though. He was back off the wagon pretty soon after, but child services could never catch her. She wouldn't let them, and after a while they kinda gave up and, well, you know how Sherriff Frank was.” She rolls her eyes as she says his name. Yeah, I know how the lazy fuck was.