Read Too Young to Kill for Free Online Page A

gone.
    Shortly after the nine o’clock hour, Jo found Sarah Kolb’s phone number and called her.
    “Hey,” Jo said, explaining who she was, “have you seen Adrianne? We can’t find her.” Jo sounded more worried than scared. More concerned than snappy.
    Flies with honey . . . and that whole thing.
    There was concern and sincerity in Sarah’s voice, Jo recalled. Sarah said she wanted to help. She had seen Adrianne earlier that day and dropped her off, just as Cory had explained to his dad, at the McDonald’s. But she had no idea where she went after that.
    “I dropped her off at the McDonald’s,” Sarah explained, “because she didn’t want you guys to know that there were boys in the car.”
    “What happened? When?”
    “Oh, there was an argument in the car . . . ,” Sarah offered, but didn’t say between whom. Jo assumed it was between Sarah and Adrianne; she had been given some of the details from Adrianne about her on-again, off-again relationship/friendship with Sarah. “Adrianne wanted to go home. She told me McDonald’s because of the boys in the car, and she didn’t want to get into trouble.”
    Jo thought this was odd for Adrianne to be concerned about someone being home at noon.
    Tony and I are both at work then....
    Not a chance of anyone being around.
    Why would she care about that?
    On the other hand, Adrianne felt Jo and Tony were always on her back, asking her who she was “running around with.” They would certainly have a few questions about Cory Gregory being in the car with Adrianne. Tony didn’t like him, the way he dressed, his attitude, or that look in his eye. Tony knew the type of people Cory hung around with and judged them. Tony wanted and encouraged Adrianne to do better. Cory looked like trouble.
     
    “That’s it?” Jo asked Sarah. Now that she thought about it, perhaps Adrianne was worried a neighbor would see Sarah and Cory drop her off and then blab to Tony.
    “Yeah, I haven’t seen or heard from her since then.”
    “Call me if you do, okay?”
    “Sure,” Sarah said.

    On a questionnaire Adrianne answered during a return trip to the psychologist back in 2003, she said she had no religion. Her hobbies, she listed, were singing, drawing, and dance. She said growing up was “hard,” the drugs she watched people do around her, she claimed, made life “hard.” She said the two things she liked best about school were “friends and lunch.” She listed the two most important people in her life as a “deceased uncle” and “two friends, also deceased.” She claimed to be only ten years old when she started dating, and fourteen when she lost her virginity. One of the questions Adrianne was asked on that day seemed to draw the most jarring answer.
    What do you read?
    Murder.
     
     
    Sleep was not going to come with smiling sheep jumping through their dreams, singing “Kumbaya,” offering Tony and Jo beautiful thoughts on this night. Tony’s daughter was out there . . . somewhere.
    In trouble.
    He could feel it in his bones.
     
    Yet, Tony and Jo needed to try to find some rest if they were going to be any good to Adrianne.
    Jo and Tony’s bedroom was in the basement of their ranch-style home. Adrianne’s room was directly above them on ground level. Jo’s twins, Joshua and Justin, also had rooms on the same floor as Adrianne.
     
    Before heading downstairs to bed, Jo and Tony discussed what they should do.
    Tony had an idea. They’d done it before.
    He and Jo placed several empty cans on the top of Adrianne’s door, so if she tried to sneak in during the middle of the night, the cans would fall, make a racket on the floor, and wake them up below.
    A booby trap.
    If nothing else, it helped them to cope. Gave them hope. Maybe a false sense that Adrianne was out and about, perhaps drunk, high, or finding trouble with a boy, and she would be coming home eventually when the bender was over.
     
    Optimism. In this situation, you grasp on to any thread you