Sam had no idea what to do to help Bonnie. His brothers flanked him, and that alone kept him moving toward the truck. “Darren,” he said, and the next oldest Buttars took an extra-long step and appeared at Sam’s side.
“Call her mom,” he said. “She was worried about her.”
“All right.” He didn’t ask how to get the number. Darren would figure it out, the way he always did.
“Logan,” Sam said.
“Right here.”
“Go get Boyfriend.” He unlooped Bonnie’s purse from her arm, which hung at her side, lifeless. “Take her car. It’s a blue sporty thing. She lives over on Pheasant Road. White house. Third one down on the left.”
“Got it.” Again, Logan could problem-solve to get an address, as he’d never been to Bonnie’s.
“Ben, can you and Rae help me get her calmed down and out to the farm? Maybe find h
