God, her voice— Clio was coming to properly now, confusion turning to panic. He could picture her bound and struggling in the Sheriff's car, a gun to her temple, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to slam his foot down on the gas. Running a couple of lights might get him there a few minutes faster, but only if the cops didn't pull him over first. He settled for just skirting the speed limit, drawing a chorus of irritable horns as he wove in and out of traffic. The minutes stretched out interminably.
He kept talking as he drove. Reasoning with the Sheriff was a fool's game, but Will was desperate. He gave it a go anyway. "She doesn't know anything about that, Sheriff. She's innocent. She had a child."