"Do you know how much effort goes into a missing persons case, Derek?" Annie asked, expression tight and resigned.
It sucked. That was the long and the short of it. It just sucked. Everything about Vegas, everything about her position, everything about the little dust heap of a town where they had thrown her.
Not for the first time, she found herself wishing she could turn back the clock by two years and never have started on this route.
Not for the first time, she was pretty aggravated that the supposed 'gift' her meandering bloodline had given her hadn't supplied her with any warning for where she was headed.
"It'll start with the locals. Police, sheriffs. Basic canvasing, interviewing the family, determining if someone is considered more endangered than another. After that, if they make no headway, and there's enough evidence, even circumstantial, that foul play was involved, it gets bumped up the food chain. Feds take over, start everything from scratch. More interview, more canvasing, more investigation. At the end of the day, its literally thousands of man hours, costing god only know how much. And that's not even touching on the grief of the family, or their own efforts. Missing posters plastered all over, trying to track people down with some vain hope that they're still alive. The emotional weight of it... I can't even imagine. Can you?"