“I don’t know, Dutch. I’ll call Reuben and check it out. Thanks for letting me know.”
Bobby hung up the phone. Every day since he and Reuben had lunch together, he had been thinking about Jenny. She was certainly an impulsive girl—and now this. Something bad must have happened between her and Reuben. He clicked the intercom button.
“Yes, Sheriff ?”
“Jill, can you call Hank Lowenstein for me and ask him if he can go next door and bring Reuben or Jerusha over to the phone?”
“Right away.”
Bobby put down the phone and waited. In about ten minutes the intercom buzzed.
“Yeah, Jill.”
“It’s Reuben Springer.”
Bobby grabbed the phone. “Reuben, I didn’t expect to hear from you. Thought you’d be out working.”
“Not today, Bobby.” There was a great weariness behind Reuben’s voice.
“Reuben,
