Deadliest of Sins by Sallie Bissell Page B

house.
    â€œPlease,” he cried, begging now. “At least let your answering machine pick up!”
    The growl of Suzie Q’s engine stopped. He heard her door open. He was just about to put the heavy black receiver back in the cradle when a voice said hello . Not an answering machine, but a real person.
    â€œMiss Crow?” he gasped, fighting tears.
    â€œYes?” She sounded puzzled, as if she didn’t recognize him.
    â€œThis is Chase Buchanan, from yesterday?” He hopped on one leg as he watched Gudger get out of the car.
    â€œWell, hi, Chase. How are you doing?”
    â€œMiss Crow, my sister Sam called last night!”
    â€œThat’s great!” Mary replied. “I told you she would.”
    â€œNo!” he cried, breathless. “You don’t understand. She called on Gudger’s landline. She’s in trouble! She needs help!”
    â€œDid you tell your mother? Call the police?” asked Mary.
    â€œNo, Gudger came in and grabbed the phone out of my hand.” He looked out the window. Gudger was heading straight for the back door. “I gotta go. Please call the cops for me—its Sam’s only chance!”

    Before she could answer, the little boy had hung up, his voice replaced by a dial tone. Mary clicked off her cell phone, ashamed that the child had not crossed her mind all morning.
    â€œEverything okay?” Galloway asked softly from behind his desk.
    â€œI don’t know,” she replied. “This weird little kid came to my office yesterday—said he’d hitchhiked up to Asheville on a peach truck. He claimed his stepfather had sold his sister and wanted to hire me to find her. He’s from this county—you may have heard of the case.”
    â€œWhat’s the name?” asked Galloway.
    â€œBuchanan. The kid’s name is Chase, he calls his sister Sam.”
    â€œSamantha Buchanan,” said Galloway. “She was the big story before Reverend Trull stole the show.”
    â€œSo what’s the deal?”
    â€œShe vanished on her way home from babysitting. They found her car over on Jackson Highway—lights on, motor running, purse and wallet intact. Everything intact except Samantha, who wasn’t there at all.”
    â€œDo they have any leads?”
    â€œI don’t know … I came on board here after that happened.” His blue eyes flickered toward his open door. “Hey, Crump,” he called to someone out in the hall.
    â€œYeah?” A tall man with graying hair stuck his head in the door. A sergeant’s chevron decorated the sleeve of his uniform.
    â€œCome tell this nice lady from the governor’s office what you know about Samantha Buchanan.”
    Crump stepped inside the office and basically repeated the same story Galloway had told her. “We’re pretty sure she met up with a boyfriend,” he added. “Nothing else makes sense.”
    â€œThat’s not what her little brother thinks,” said Mary, relating what Chase had told her. Crump listened, then shook his head.
    â€œThat little Buchanan punk is probably one of the reasons his sister ran away. The kid’s a nut case.”
    â€œOh?” Mary thought of the hungry little boy who’d inhaled a half-pound hamburger before she’d gotten her napkin in her lap.
    â€œYeah. He used to call in a couple of times a week. One day it would be a robber trying to break in the house, a few days later it would be the people next door, cooking ice. He had some kind of old Civil War pistol—it’s a miracle he didn’t shoot himself in the ass.”
    â€œDid you respond?” asked Mary.
    â€œEvery time—Ralph Gudger would usually lead the charge. He was dating the boy’s mother and thought maybe some of his old collars were harassing the kids, but that never materialized. Then, after Gudger married the kid’s mother, the calls stopped.”
    â€œDid you know the