Good afternoon all. My day is hectic. Im moving to the San Antonia area as I write. Stopped in at a Starbucks to recharge my cellphone for directions. I will be awarding two lucky people who comment a digital or print copy of my new release. So please comment. Thank You
The days turned into weeks. Summer came and went, but no Holly. Jake Buford always set a dinner plate for his beloved daughter each night. During family cookouts, an extra hamburger and hot-dog were grilled just in case Holly came home.
School started up, but not for Holly, whose fourteenth birthday had just passed. One day as he left a fast food restaurant, Derek recalled noticing Dennis Buford walking home with a friend.
To Derek’s surprise, the boy remembered him. After small talk, Dennis told the officer they were all sad that Holly missed her birthday. He said the family bought her many gifts and Gladys baked her favorite cake, German chocolate with coconut and walnut frosting. Dennis believed his sister to be dead. Derek recalled how that statement broke his heart. He vowed to not stop looking for her.
Derek said Dennis echoed the promise before rejoining his friends. Weeks turned into months, and Holly’s photo was added to the long list of missing children and persons on the backs of cereal boxes and milk cartons.
After the one-year anniversary of Holly’s disappearance, Don received a surprise telephone call from California. He and Derek flew there immediately. Don recalled being skeptical of the caller’s sincerity, since all the other dozens of leads led nowhere. This also ended at a brick-wall. The partners returned home, with Holly’s nowfaded photograph hanging on Derek’s chalkboard.
Now that Derek was the proud father of a daughter, he knew how Jake and Gladys felt when Holly disappeared, saying, “I curse the person who killed her.” He had now come to the realization that she was probably six feet under. The missing person’s case was now considered a homicide.
He did not believe that a person could just disappear into thin air with no one knowing what happened. He believed the man who had grabbed Holly was still out there killing. “He’s either in prison, or moved away,” said Derek, “but he’s still killing.”
Don kept his head about things. He knew that without a witness who could connect Holly to a suspect, or some kind of solid evidence, police had nothing. However, he did believe that with the grace of God, if the case was solved, it was going to be solved by him or his wild card partner.
As the years drifted by, more dead-end leads came through the police department. There were leads of Holly spotted in Florida, or sitting in a diner in Pittsburgh, or pumping gasoline at a filling station just across town. Some of the callers were genuinely concerned and helpful citizens; others were heartless bastards looking for a thrill. Concerning pranksters, Derek recalled cursing more then one joker out over his office phone.