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I saw more FDLE guys and uniformed officers from the local Sheriff’s Department when I was escorted from Ms. Dickey’s office back to the waiting area. Another mute Brummel employee watched over me there. He wore black slacks and a short-sleeved, white button-down with no tie, splitting the difference between a uniform and business attire and evoking a mental facility doctor in a horror film. His glowering brows didn’t help.
The few individuals who did speak with me were long on questions and short on information. With no watch and no clocks in evidence, I had no idea how long I’d been waiting for answers, but when yet another white dude in a suit dodged me, I hit the wall. Mostly metaphorically.
“Come on,” I pleaded. “Are you looking for Blake Tucker in connection with the disappeara
