Excerpt:

42 miles south of Big City is a quiet country farm town invaded in the surrounding area by car people. Car makes, now defunked and bankrupt, the plant sits empty, as do several hundred homes. No one to eat the fast food, or buy up the expensive shop clothes that had appeared in the last ten to twelve years around the small town. It all trickles down.

Jacob Hart sat on the tail gate of his truck, his feet dangling naked and cold from the water of the Foul River. He’d been hip deep in water since four am. The early morning wake up call about a little girl who’d gone missing struck a cord with him. Two years before he’d gotten a similar call when his niece went missing. Nothing was ever found, no remains, no clothes, not the first clue as to who took her or why. They latter being pretty obvious. People didn’t just steal little girls for the hell of it. He knew something bad had happened, but he kept it pushed down. He was dying for a cigarette, but he’d resist. His team were trying to quit, make a good impression when they had to talk to young people. Better not to smell of cigarette smoke or alcohol. He used the towel around his neck to dry his hair somewhat. The wavy blondish locks went everywhere, he needed a hair cut, but for now finger raked through would have to do. He stepped behind the truck and slipped out of his wet suit, the suit that hadn’t done him much good. He jumped a little as the foggy morning air hit his skin and he shivered a little.