Mike looked at the old, school photo on the screen of Tara"s Lenovo Yoga, it was colour, but that washed out colour of the 60s and 70s, the kind of colour that made you wonder if everything did look as full of browns, beiges, and oranges as the image would have you believe.
“I don’t get you?” Mike asked, looking back at Tara who was leaning over both he and Scotty as they all crowded around the small desk that also served as a dresser. He could smell the fruitiness of shampoo on her hair and caught a whiff of her perfume, it smelt good on her sun-kissed skin.
“That is Lindie Parker,” Tara said, reaching forward and tapping the old washed out image. “She was fifteen-years-old when she went missing. She disappeared from Charlestown in sixty-nine. There was a massive search for her, but it
