Page 21 of Wild Sentinel

Emily cringed. “You know, that was my first thought. He didn’t take the break-up well. He's a possessive, abusive jerk. But he's gotten everyone at that bar to vouch for him." She sighed. “But I can’t imagine they’d go along with it if it wasn't true." She looked us over again. "You're not local, are you?"

I shook my head and told her we were trying to connect it to another case.

"What about this guy Tommy that she was interested in?" I asked.

"He seemed like a really nice guy. I thought he might be good for her. Better than Kyle. I'm sorry, but that guy is a loser. I don't know what she ever saw in him. But Lord knows, I've had my share of questionable choices. I'm not one to talk."

"You have contact information for Tommy?”

"No, I don't."

"You know where she met him?"

"She said she met him in the grocery store, of all places. Just kinda bumped into each other on the condiment aisle and hit it off.”

“How long had she been seeing him?”

“It was new. He met us out for a drink one night. But they hadn’t been out on a real date yet.”

"Do you have a last name for Tommy?”

Emily’s face scrunched with a frown. "I don't. Sorry."

"There's no chance she just ran off with him and left her mother behind?"

Emily shook her head. “No way. She’d never leave her mother like that. She’d tell me. I can say with absolute certainty, she didn't run off with someone. I don't care what Sheriff Rollins says.”

I gave her a card, thanked her for the information, and told her to get in touch if she thought of anything else.

We left the gym and had Marcus drive us to the Sheriff's Office. I figured we should touch base with Dusty. But he might not like us snooping around his town.

13

Despite the size of the county, the Stillwater Sheriff's Office was fully funded. They had a brand spanking new building painted in tan and rust, brand-new squad cars with colorful, aggressive wraps and a nice new detention center to house the degenerates.

We stepped inside the office and made our way to the front desk. I flashed my badge and asked to speak with Sheriff Rollins. The department was as busy as any other. But not much happened in Stillwater except for petty crimes, vandalism, drunk driving, and bar fights. Michelle’s abduction had been the talk of the town. A rare event.

"You boys are a long way from home,” the clerk said as she looked at us with a sour face. “May I tell him what this is in reference to?”

"Michelle Morgan."

She picked up the phone, dialed an extension, then spoke in a hushed tone to the sheriff. "There are two deputies here from… Where is it you said you were from?"

"Coconut County,” I replied with a smile.

She relayed the message. The sheriff's voice crackled through the phone, and she listened intently. "Okay. I'll tell them."

She ended the call and looked at JD and me. She pointed across the floor to the sheriff's office in back. "He said you can go on back.”

I smiled and thanked her.

Phones rang, and fingers clacked on keyboards.

We weaved through the desks to the sheriff's office and gave a quick knock on the door before pushing inside. It was a standard office with a view of the building next door. There were pictures of the sheriff with notable townsfolk on the wall. He stood up from his desk and reached across to shake our hands.

Dusty Rollins was a good old boy, and he gave us a once-over. I don't think he'd seen any deputies that looked quite like we did. Certainly not like Jack, with his long blond hair and Hawaiian shirt. "What can I do for you?”

I told him about Jonathan Edwards and the connection to RSS.