She dialed Tom's home first, but got no answer, so she flipped open the phonebook to the non-emergency police number and asked for Detective Tom Hoffman. While on hold, she closed her eyes and whispered. "Please Tom, be there." When the familiar voice came over the line, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Detective Hoffman here."

"Tom, Angie Nevers. I'm so glad I reached you."

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm concerned about Bud." She explained her husband's uncharacteristic absence. "Tom, I'm really worried."

"It definitely doesn't sound like Bud. Are you home right now?"

She gripped the phone. "Yes."

"Call me if you hear from him. I'm off duty at twelve. I'll drop by if you haven't heard from him by then."

"Thanks, Tom. I'd appreciate it."

Sweeping wisps of hair out of her face, Angie went into the television room. She sat rigidly on the couch, staring at the flickering screen.

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