Eight
Nate came out of the door to the sheriff’s department as I was about to go in. He looked me straight in the eye. Now that the truth was out, he wasn’t going to avoid it. Or me. I supposed that indicated a core decency in him.
Or maybe he was trying to con me, too.
“You were right,” Nate said. “The girls aren’t with Sylvie’s friend Polly. She told me Sylvie asked her to tell anyone who called that she had the girls and they were safe and sound. Sylvie convinced her she needed time to get out of town and away from her husband.”
Nate held the door open for me, and we went inside.
“Yeah, I f****d up,” Nate said. “I should have asked the Clark County sheriff’s department to go out to that woman’s house to make certain the children were there. Christ. I believed Sylvie. I f*****g beli
