CHAPTER SIX
Marcus Shields sat in his tiny cubicle in the basement of the Dallas Field Office, staring at a blank computer screen.
Things over the past few days had been rough.
He couldn’t believe his niece—the little girl he used to bounce with on the trampoline outside their house-- was gone. Dead. Murdered like some kind of animal. By some kind of animal, likely. What had gone wrong?
Sure, she’d grown up, from that cute, toothless little pigtailed angel who’d called him Mar-Mar, to a headstrong teenager. She’d gotten into her share of trouble, with drugs and parties and boys, but what teen hadn’t? He’d really thought that when she disappeared, that day in January, that it was only a matter of time before they all saw her again—a little bruised, maybe, but wiser. She’d have her head
