Big ups to my editor Angel. Thanks for all the help (((hugs))). I must admit I added a sentence or two after I received the edited copy back. * Hawke ...��Why can’t you find her?’ Holly cried. She was hiding her face in my suit jacket. ‘It’s been two weeks,’ she mumbled. ‘I don’t know, love. All I know is the longer she’s missing the smaller the chance of survival becomes.’ I said the words gently, so Holly wouldn’t freak out. ‘Would you stop saying that? It doesn’t matter how gently you say it.. Unshaven factory workers. The bleary eyed husbands wishing they didn’t have to go home to their fat, bitchy wives. Was she in Omaha? Kansas City? They blurred together, the places, the faces, like— Everything froze. Time ground to a halt. The music stopped. He was there, at the rail. Drunk and unshaven, leering at her, holding a dollar bill in his yellowed teeth. He didn’t recognize her. But, oh god, she knew him. *** Winter in north Texas was cold and miserable. Sharon huddled in her thin. More

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