Mom was calling down from upstairs, wanting to know what was going on, and I turned long enough to reply, “Jeff and Dad are over at the Andersons’, and the police are here!” before I ran outside in my bare feet. An officer unfolded himself from the front seat of the patrol car and turned to look at me. “You the one who called 9-1-1?” “Yes, sir. The truck that was here just left in a hurry, with three men in it, and my dad and my brother are over there somewhere!” “Go back into your house, please,” the officer said. He didn’t wait to see if I obeyed but approached the open door of Andersons’ house. I retreated as far as the end of our sidewalk and stood waiting. The officer called out, and I heard a voice responding. Mom spoke behind me, and I turned to see that she was still wrapping a robe over her nightgown as she emerged from the front door. “Kaci, what’s happening? Where’s Dad?” “Over there.” It wasn’t cold, but I was shivering. I explained to her why there was a patrol car across the street.
