Chapter ThirteenAn all-nighter, that's my excuse. Trying to catch up on what I missed Friday. Make it look good, convincing. Clare fretted, knowing that she needed to be in early and present her best possible face. Yet she was fighting her ongoing fatigue and had to let Helen know she was taking leave. She was a planner. Rational. Logical. Yet here she was, about to drive off into the middle of the state, through woodlands and backwoods, armed with only a name on a sheet. A hunch. Life was becoming unexpected in the most bizarre of ways.
Too tired to drive home, Clare had curled up under her desk using her backpack as a pillow. So now she was not only dirty from the rock bar, yesterday's clothes, and a diesel-infused joyride with Tina, but she lacked deodorant and smelled strangely fruity
