Teams of searchers were numbered and assigned areas. I don't even know who you're talking about, she snapped. It's part of his charm, Mitchsaid, practicing a few evasive maneuvers of his own, shuffling papers asan excuse to keep from watching her wrap her lips around that banana. She narrowed her eyes at the look on his face.
On the surface there was nothing about Albert Fletcher that would havedrawn notice. Her heart wouldn't race if she were dead. Now she was just a woman, shattered and vulnerable, clingingto a thread of hope as thin as a hair. The search was goingnowhere.
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