Chapter 73

I don't know why but the name strikes me immediately. It draws me from my stupor and my mind whirs frantically to remember why it is so familiar. Sheryl. Sheryl Smith.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck. It definitely can't be. It can't be the same Sheryl. I chug down a mouthful of the bitter whiskey, the burn shoots straight to my brain and I turn bloodshot eyes to Hernandez who has been watching me quietly.

"Sheryl Smith? What else you got about her and her son?" I ask, my words slurred and slow. Heavy with tiredness and yet determined. My head is swimming, I really should let go of the alcohol but it is the only thing keeping me from totally losing my mind.

"She and Tyler don't talk much. Basically cut off. They had a supposedly huge fight about something and stayed apart the summer before he went to college. He has not returned since. I gathered this through careful questioning of their neighbours. The father has never been in the picture. Sheryl is very private about him. It goe