Penny dressed hastily and rushed downstairs, the framed picture in hand.
“Susan?” She checked the kitchen, then the living room, which she had only viewed fleetingly the night before, then past the open door of the empty bathroom on her way to a large utility room with a door that led to the backyard.
Penny could not find her anywhere in the house.
Penny rushed to the front of the house and pushed through the unlatched front door, stopping short of the porch steps in surprise.
A boy sat on the top step, watching Susan argue with a man at the far end of the driveway. His dress was so stereotypical it was laughable. He wore a black Stetson too big for him. Tilted to one side, it disclosed a mop of unwashed hair and a mullet that hung past his shoulders. His white western-style shirt and
