Faber paused for a moment, but then sighed and waved a hand. “Have it your way. You can use that computer, Doctor—though I’m going to be supervising. Closely.”

“Got it,” Ilse said, nodding.

Sawyer just shrugged.

Faber returned her attention to Ilse. “So what should I note as landmarks? If we’re going to search for a needle in a haystack, it would be nice to at least have as many magnets as possible.”

“Ah, yes,” said the doc, “I see. Well, there should be an old, abandoned farm, with a big barn. It’s probably weather worn and dilapidated at this point. Though it’s possible it was renovated.”

“All right, old abandoned farm. Big barn. Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. We’re looking especially for a small, run-down shack on the property. The shack should have a bent and rusted weather vane on top. In the shape of a rooster.”

“A rooster weather vane. Pretty common accessory.”

“On the shack, though. Not the barn.”

Sergeant Faber sighed, but did her best to keep chipper, bobbing her head after another sip of coffee. “All right, I can probably get Dennings and Adler on it. Maybe Vick.”

“Good.” Sawyer began to turn. “Let me know if you find any—”

“Fat chance!” Faber interrupted. “You better believe you’re helping. Both of you. Morning shift is skeleton. Those two computers. Have at it.”

Faber pointed to two seats within eye-line of her own desk. At the same time, as she kept a commanding finger jutting toward the spare desks, she was also gesturing toward the back of the office space, raising her voice and calling, “Dennings, Adler. Grab Vick! Nah—drop it. Print it after. I got something else for you.”

Sawyer heard a chorus of groans from the back of the room, but he was too busy moving over toward the indicated computers himself. Desk work.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. Yuck.

Still, sometimes desk work led to field work. First veggies, then dessert.

He nodded to himself, stretching his long, lanky form out in the office chair and watching sidelong as Dr. Beck stationed herself at one of the computers next to him marked for guests. It looked, for a moment, like she was having difficulty figuring out how to turn it on. They waited for Sergeant Faber to log them in, where she could keep an eye on them, and then watched as three other bleary-eyed, coffee-sipping morning shift cops moved over with lead feet and deep scowls.

The dream team.

Sawyer snorted, already cycling to the web browser while Faber began to break down the instructions for the rest of the officers. Needle in a haystack indeed.

Still, there was a young woman out there. And while Sawyer never made things personal, he knew time was running out. Tick, tick. Someone had Ms. Wright in their hands. Someone up to no good.

If they didn’t hurry, it would all be too late.

***

The sun was hidden again behind the gloomy, overcast skies through the window. The three police officers gathered around Faber’s desk, slapping printed pages next to her computer. Faber smiled sweetly up at each of them. “Thank you very much,” she said, teasing their gloomy countenances with her chipper tone.