Looper Circus

Chapter 7

Weston was speeding, trying to get to the search party on time. I watched the needle on the speedometer inch higher and higher on the gauge.

"Where are we searching for her at? This town is pretty small." I asked

"There's some woods around the edge of town, we're going to start at the center of town and work our way towards the woods." He answered, distractedly.

We made a hard right turn into the library's packed parking lot, there was a swarm of people milling around, their faces showed that of concern and worry. I guess that's where we were meeting. Weston's truck screeched to a stop, and he quickly got out. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his concern and eagerness.

I looked at the old white building that was the library. The red lettering was faded, almost a pink color now. I instantaneously remembered the article I forgot about while searching the web. I silently cursed at myself for forgetting to come back and read that. I made a mental note to come back. A few police officers were walking through the crowd giving people instructions and explaining todays plan.

I caught the eye of a short, muscular police man. He had short black hair and bulging muscles. He scanned my face, his head tilting to the side in confusion. He started walking towards me.

"Miss," His deep voice demanded my attention, "can I ask you about the scratches on your face?"

I subconsciously touched my face, "Oh, I work at the circus. Some of the monkeys scratched me while I was trying to go over some acts."

His eyes narrowed at me, "Are you sure you didn't get into a struggle with anyone?"

I started to get angry, "Listen, officer," I glanced down at his nametag, "West, that's quiet an accusation. I've been in this town for only a month or so now, I just met Veronica last night at my friend's party. So please, before you accuse anyone else, at least have the decency to find out more about them first."

I turned on my heel, pulling Weston with me as I walked away from the officer.

Once we were a few feet away, I peeked back at the officer. He stood in the same place as before, but his eyes were trained on me. I felt a chill run up my spine.

A police woman stood on the tailgate of a truck, "Alright, everybody! We're going to split up into groups of eight or nine. Five groups are going to start in the center of town and work their way out. The other five are going to drive over to the woods and work their way in. If you find anything, what so ever, call 911."

Everyone started breaking off into their groups, talking. I ended up in a group composed of Weston, me, three other women, and three other, older men.

One of the women was Veronica's mother. I could tell. She looked like an older Veronica. She was breathtakingly beautiful, even for her age. But unlike Veronica's bright eyes, her eyes were dead and cold. She had deep bag under her bloodshot eyes. She looked like she was going through the motions, not thinking about any of this. One of the men was Veronica's father. He held her mother's hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. He was tall, but he had brown hair instead of red. His 5 o'clock shadow was starting turn into a scraggly scruff of facial hair. His eyes were rimmed in red, as well.

The others in the group were friends of the tall red headed boy.

Our group decided to start in the center of town. No one introduced themselves, the atmosphere was heavy, and everyone seemed grief stricken.

We headed south, since the town was small, we walked the path. Our eyes scanning the drainage ditches. We checked under bridges and in the few alleys the town had.