"Mr. Cheney, I've checked today's buses and flights; there's no information on Miss Yale. That means she hasn't left Landon." Charles Mcintosh has always been efficient, and now with all identities linked online, checking such matters is very easy.
"Have the police look for her."
"They're already searching, Mr. Cheney, drive slower, it's raining, the tires might slip easily." Charles Mcintosh knows Sylvan Cheney very well.
He already heard the tremor in Sylvan Cheney's voice, the usually calm and composed person, unruffled even if Mount Tai collapses, is now completely disoriented at the news of Jasmine Yale's disappearance.
Charles Mcintosh is unsure how much rationality Sylvan Cheney still has.
Yet, even with the driver speeding all the way, he couldn't catch up with Sylvan Cheney's car; he figures that Sylvan Cheney has lost all his calm.
Charles Mcintosh knows what Jasmine Yale means to Sylvan Cheney.
Especially these past two years, he's become increasingly clear.
