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SHERIFF JARED ANSLUM ruefully shook his head as he headed to his car. There were only two days remaining of school, and now they had another missing girl.
Sheriff Anslum was one hundred percent Cajun. He was not a tall man, barely five feet eleven inches, and his dark skin was starting to look weathered from all the sun, but he preferred to be outside as much as possible. His typical outfit for work was a white or khaki button-down shirt and jeans that fit over his alligator boots. He kept his stark black hair cut short and always wore his cowboy hat. He turned fifty this year, and gray was just starting to pepper his hair. He tried to stay fit and trim, but lately, he noticed the beginnings of a beer gut.
His dark brown eyes showed no emotion as he looked over the officers gathered at the location their missing victim was last seen. Sheriff Anslum warned his deputies to be careful of where they stepped; the area near the bayou was nothing but an overgrown marsh. The water could go from shallow to deep without warning.
Currently, they were searching blindly for the missing young woman. Amy Daigle had stumbled out of a party drunk and more than likely stoned, without telling her friends goodbye. She had not been heard from since then. The back of the house where the party occurred ran along the bayou, so her body may be found near the edge of it. Unless she was fortunate enough to receive a ride by a passerby, but so far, no one had come forward.
This was the second report of a local missing girl over the last year, and Sheriff Anslum prayed that the two cases were not connected. Maggie Hargrave was still missing after being reported missing by her boyfriend almost a year ago. She stormed out of his house upset and was never heard from again. Her trail had long grown cold and Sheriff Anslum did not have much hope that she would be found alive. If they did not find these poor young women’s bodies, it was harder for their loved ones to find the closure they needed. People needed that closure, it brought them comfort.
He prayed that none of his men were holding out hope to find the young woman alive. There was a chance that she fell in the bayou and drowned. Unfortunately, that sort of thing did happen around here. The searchers were being methodical in their patterns. They used sticks and flashlights to peer into the long marsh grass; a grid had been laid out and each area was thoroughly gone through before moving on. That way, nothing would be overlooked.
By the end of the day, the rain was beating down on them. The bayou waters were starting to pick up, giving those out on the water a hard time. However, so far, no body had been found.
He reached for the radio to make the call, “The weather is getting worse. That‘s it. C’est tout. C’est fini.”