“Holy shit!" the officer said, finally getting a good look at the woman who had been standing in Red's shadow.

"Jane? Jane Collier?"

Once the girl had shown her face in the streetlight, he had recognized her instantly. He better well have. A slightly livelier version of that face had been staring at him from a “missing” poster for the last five years.

"Sheriff Horton," Jane whispered, her face downward but her eyes glancing up.

"Good . . . good grief," he said, excited as could be. He took a step forward, but Jane retreated and Red interjected herself. He stopped. He wasn't surprised, but he had been forgetful. He knew more about what had happened than Jane could probably guess.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

“It's just . . . damn girl, no one's seen ya for five years, and here you are, just . . . just outta the blue."

"I. . . I've been . . . away," she replied, stepping up to Red's side again. Sheriff Randolph Horton was a good man. He had been sheriff of this county for as long as Jane had been alive. He was more quick with forgiveness than condemnation, and that had earned him a place in the community many, many years ago. Her father had always thought highly of him.

"I can guess that," he said.

"Uhm, what are you doin' here?" he asked. He wasn't sure if Jane knew what had happened after she had left.

Jane was flushing, but from fear or shame or what she couldn't say.

“DT. . . was just ." She straightened up her back.

“Where's my mother?" she asked.

“Where'd they move too?"

"Gosh . . . you've been gone but . . . I just thought you knew, but... but I guess you not knowin' might explain why you didn't come back “Where are they?!" Jane said, her voice carrying some force and volume now.

"Where is that son of a bitch?!" she added, the anger returned.

“Where . . ."

Red had to give the officer credit. He was keeping his cool.

“Jane . . . Jack is over on Pine Brook Road now," the officer said, obviously not sure how Jane would react.

Jane looked like she'd been hit with a brick. Her eyes glassed over and her head turned slightly as she mouthed some words that Red didn't pick up. Red looked at the sheriff.

"What's on Pine Brook Road?"

"This isn't fair," Jane said, clenching her fists and staring at the small mound of earth before her.

Red had found something out about the sleep Little town that evening.

There was only one thing on Pine Brook Road . . . the only thing that had ever been there and the only thing that ever would be Pine Brook Cemetery. On the tombstone read "Jack Ewes: 1964 — 2005