18The next morning, Dufort spent an hour searching for Amy before going to the station, but saw nothing out of the ordinary in the alleyways and dumpsters. Before going inside, Dufort stepped into the alley and took out his blue glass bottle. He shook a few drops under his tongue and closed his eyes. Turning his face to the sun, he took several slow, deep breaths.
Just do the next right thing, he said to himself. Just do the next right thing.
The situation with Amy was beginning to take over, the pressure to solve the mystery of her disappearance pressing down on him, threatening to trigger anxiety so rampant that he couldn’t control it.
“Good morning,” he said with forced optimism to Perrault and Maron who were already at their desks. “My office,” he said, and they jumped up to follow
