<span style="font-weight: bold"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #FF80BF"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">Mary Stevens</span></span></div></span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://ak1.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/l/tid/62875643.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #0080FF"><br/>"We have found someone, Ms. Stevens, I have to go now. Once I know for certain we will let you know,"</span></span>Lorenzo informed her, and Mary put her head in her hands. Even if it wasn't Sarah, someone was dead. She heard the bell as the Sheriff left and a numbness settled over her. After a few more minutes, she stood with a heavy sigh, brushing her hair back with her hands and then rubbing her face. They didn't know if it was Sarah. Her gut said it was, but her mind kept repeating the Sheriff's words,<span style="font-style: italic"> "We don't know anything..." <br/></span><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><div style="text-align: center;">***</div></span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FFBF40">Betty Richardson</span></span></span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="https://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Admin/BkFill/Default_image_group/2011/11/18/1321638328207/A-women-smoking-inside-a--007.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/>Betty was pulled from her thoughts as Phil pulled her hand away from her hair. She had been smoking like a train since she had made her discovery. She had been trying to quit, never worried about her resolve to do so--at least until she found the torso.<span style="color: #FFBF40"> "No, no one was out here. It was practically the crack ass of dawn when I came out here. There was no one out here except the birds and flies. I just saw some lump in the road and thought maybe it was some dead animal, ya know--like maybe someone hit a deer. But it had all the wrong colors, so I pulled over. I planned on getting it out of the road, not wanting to run over it...but it smelled so bad and it looked really strange, so I came over to look at it instead...and...and.."</span>she took another puff of her cigarette. The panic was gone and all that was left was the feeling of nausea in the pit of her stomach.<br/><br/>Suddenly, she perked up,<span style="color: #FFBF40"> "Oh wait! When I was coming down the road, a truck I have never seen before passed by me going the other way. They had to have seen it!" </span>Her phone was ringing and she looked at the number. It was work,<span style="color: #FFBF40">"Hold on..." </span>she flipped the phone open, putting it to her ear,<span style="color: #FFBF40">"Hello? Yes..yes. I kn-...What? No, damnit Mag, would you listen for a second before you go a hootin' and hollerin' in my ear? I can't come in today, alright? No! Look, I am sure you can handle the front desk for a little while, alright? No, I can't tell you why! It ain't none of your damn business!" </span>with that, she clicked the phone shut. Mag always got on her nerves, nagging her about this and that. She wasn't even her boss, she didn't understand why the woman was always such a bitch.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFBF40">"Sorry...Anyways, yeah...I saw a truck. It was two door, blue--I think it was a Ford, but I didn't see it well enough to know for sure..." </span>she said. To her, it seemed Phil was just as shaken up about the whole thing as she was. In effort to calm both their nerves, she decided to insert a little casual conversation in between questions. He likely wouldn't bite, but she could try anyway,<span style="color: #FFBF40">"So Phil, you find yourself a girl yet?" </span>She wasn't flirting, just making conversation. She was happily married.