The Missing (Charlie)
"Yes. Yes, I have your information." She said to the person on the other end of the phone. "Yes, I will look into it, I promise. We're all looking into every one of these calls. We're doing what we can. Yes. I understand... I do.... I unders... please stop yelling. Crying isn't really better... I'm sure that there's somebody more equipped to handle your current sta... yes, like a psychiatrist."
When she was finally able to put the phone down, Jennifer got up from her chair behind her desk and leaned out into the hallway.
"STOP FUCKING FORWARDING THOSE CALLS TO ME." She yelled - loudly - down to the reception desk. The anger was present in her voice. She'd told them before that if they actually wanted somebody to start looking into these cases, they couldn't keep sending her the calls. She couldn't do both at once. It was impossible.
There was also the issue that she was worried her partner was one of the ones missing. She hadn't seen him in a day or so. Hadn't heard from him. There was too much going on for him to be gone, though. She needed him to be here. She needed his help, and his way of comforting without actually having to say anything. His brain, she needed that, too. The way he thought, he might see some kind of pattern here that she wasn't.
Jennifer stalked back to her desk and sat down, leaning back a moment, enjoying the peace of the phone not ringing. If she didn't need it for things, she would unplug it right now before another call could come through.