Chapter 4
Wilson, a detective for years, was more observant and diligent than most.
“John, I checked. Sandra was wearing a dress that day. She wouldn’t have had the pockets to be carrying cash. Besides, there’s been no activity on her accounts these past few days, and she doesn’t have many friends. Aren’t you even a little worried?”
John casually fed Tammy the orange, then finally turned to look at him. Wilson, usually calm and collected, was on the verge of tears, grabbing John’s arm and pleading softly, “John, listen to me. If something happens to Sandra, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
Seeing Wilson’s anxiety, John hesitated and rose from his seat. However, Tammy tugged at his sleeve before he could take a step. She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, her expression fragile and pitiable.
“John, you know this whole thing has been so traumatizing for me. Can’t you let them handle it? I’m terrified of being alone.”
Before John could respond, Wilson pulled on his arm, trying to drag him toward the door while still talking.
“Miss Tammy, your injury is more or less healed. Don’t keep clinging to John. He’s got a wife to find. Even if you’re in a hurry to take her place, another day or two won’t make a difference, right? Honestly, you’re just being melodramatic.”
