Olivia pulled her truck in the driveway and cut the engine, then pounded her fist on the steering wheel a trillion times. Not that it helped her frustration level, but it beat screaming through town like Wee Willie Winkie after a meltdown.

All day yesterday, she'd torn Meadowlark apart trying to find Nate. After little sleep, she'd headed out to do the same thing this morning. Nothing. Nada. All Rip would tell her was Nate started work on Monday and that, last he'd heard, Nate ...