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sermon had hit just the right emotional chord. 
    So far that hadn’t happened.
    “Let’s follow up on the missing father.” His absence didn’t sit right with Jess. Not that she believed every man, woman and child who lived in the Bible Belt was of a God-fearing nature. Certainly not or there would have been no need for this particular prayer service. When a man’s daughter was missing, however, and his obviously God-fearing wife showed up at an event held on behalf of the victims and he didn’t, something was off. Unless Mr. Parsons was hospitalized or beyond standing up, he should be here.
    “I’ll get on that ASAP, ma’am.” 
    Jess winced. “Don’t call me ma’am. I hate that.”
    “Sorry.” Wells scrunched her face in uncertainty. “Agent Harris?”
    “God, that’s even worse.” Jess winced again. Six hours in the area and she already sounded like she’d never left. The accent she’d buried half a lifetime ago had descended upon her like the second coming.
    It wasn’t that she hated the south or Birmingham. What she hated was her past here. Throwing off that past, all aspects of it, had served as an emotional launching pad for her future. For the new Jess. It had gained her the respect of those who deemed a southern drawl and the term y’all as an indication of intellectual deficiency.
    The emotional drama of the past few days had done a serious number on her head. She felt out of place, out of sorts…out of options. No matter that this function was about the case, it was the social interaction she didn’t have the powers of concentration to cope with at the moment.
    Somehow she had to get her head back on straight. Any mistake she made could prove devastating to the outcome of this case.
    “How would you like me to address you?”
    Jess shook her head. She’d gotten completely off track and left Wells hanging. “I’m sorry, call me Jess or Harris or whatever.”
    She puffed out a big breath of self-disgust. She had never exactly been a social butterfly, but current circumstances had rendered null and void what few social skills she generally managed. Wells no doubt thought Jess was a little peculiar.
    “The problem is, Detective Wells,” her fingers tightened around the cup of punch, making the Styrofoam squeak, “I’m a little off my game.”
    Wells slowly nodded her understanding, which meant she didn’t understand at all. “The chief can be a little intimidating at times. After I made detective last year, he sat me down in his office and told me that he expected more from me than the other new detectives. I’ve been terrified of screwing up since.”
    Oh good Lord. Wells obviously had drawn certain conclusions after finding Burnett in the ladies’ room. Since the detective was quite perceptive, the likelihood that she had missed Jess’s red, puffy eyes was slim to none.
    “Trust me, detective, my being out of sorts has nothing to do with Daniel Burnett. He’s the least of my worries.”
    As if Destiny had determined to make a liar out of her, across the room Dan hugged a tall brunette. The kind of female who made being a woman look easy. The kind all other females disliked on sight. 
    Apparently noticing her interest or her slack jaw, Wells hastened to explain, “That’s Annette, his ex-wife.”
    “He got married again?” That was one Jess hadn’t heard about. She had to hand it to him, he never gave up. Apparently the third time hadn’t been the charm.
    “Briefly.” Wells cleared her throat. “Oh, and that’s Annette’s ex. I mean the ex she went back to when she and the chief split. They’re Andrea’s parents.”
    “She’s Andrea’s mother?” Jess had picked up on that intimate connection when Dan talked about the missing girls. Andrea was his step-daughter. “Burnett shouldn’t be involved in this case.” Her attention rested on the man, his ex-wife and her former ex who was…wait… “Did Ms. Denton and Andrea’s father remarry?”
    “Yes. About