“We got the call about a stolen truck yesterday around seven a.m. A farmer by the name of Mac Davis said his truck was stolen out of his yard sometime between midnight and seven in the morning. Today, we got a call a little after one p.m. from a couple of fishermen. They said there was a truck halfway submerged in the river by their favorite fishing hole.”
The uniformed sheriff’s officer was tall and thin with a baby face. If he were twenty-five years old, at the most, Marissa wouldn’t believe it. The boy looked just like that. A boy wearing a deputy sheriff’s uniform. Sighing to herself silently, feeling a bit ancient, she watched the young man read from out of a small notebook he pulled out of one of his uniform shirt pockets.
The three of them, Marissa, Mike and the deputy sheriff, we
