Chapter Three
Billy Jo’s car wasn’t at her place.
Mark rolled the windows down in the Jeep. “Stay,” was all he said to the dog, who was sitting in the passenger side, before he closed the door and took in her apartment above the garage. The big house the Lancasters owned and lived in sat in the distance, with trees and grass around it. Everything looked quiet.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Billy Jo’s number, wondering if maybe he’d just missed her. Likely, he was on a wild goose chase, but at least it had been enough to get him out of the office and away from the chief.
He held the phone to his ear, and it immediately went to voicemail: “This is Billy Jo McCabe, with DCFS. If this is an emergency, call the office. Otherwise, leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”
“Hey, I’m ou
