Ellie thumped her fist on the steering wheel and shook her head in frustration. With Evelyn Ward’s pain still fresh in her mind, the last place she wanted to be was waiting outside yet another house to confirm the news no parent ever wanted to hear. Clayton remained silent. He opened the passenger side door and climbed out, his face grave. She was grateful he’d offered to come with her when she broke the news. Fed or no Fed, she welcomed his show of support. This was the worst part of the job. Swallowing a heavy sigh, she climbed out of the car and joined him on the sidewalk. The house was an old weatherboard that had seen better days. The lawn had yellowed from the frosts and a lack of water and was half overgrown. Incongruously, bright pots of colorful geraniums lined the concrete walkway, flowering bravely in the crisp winter air. She climbed the steps with Clayton and looked for a doorbell. There was none. The Fed rapped loudly on the cracked timber beside the rusted screen door that led into the house.
