A Natural

“The one that dyed her hair black last year? She has those tattoos all over?”

Was that too much information? Was he supposed to know about her tattoos--how two dragons curled around her arms onto her back and met in an embrace between her shoulder blades?

Apparently, it wasn't too much. Kitchener nodded. “Yeah, that's the one.”

“Christa, right? She used to play softball with our granddaughter. Did she do something?”

“She's missing.” Kitchener's eyes caressed the room, sliding over each surface in a way that was too casual to be common curiosity. “Some kids saw her around this neighborhood last night. She was high. Meth, I guess, like all the other kids from that side of town. Her folks seem to think that someone may have... taken her.”

“Taken her?” Nice. That had just the right amount of shock mixed with outrage. Quite natural. “You mean, someone from the neighborhood?”





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