Page 53 of Last Seen
He scratches his thigh, the thick fabric bunching beneath his big hand. “Car accident, wasn’t it?”
There is something in his tone, or maybe how he’s looking over her shoulder instead of at her face, that makes Halley take a step back.
“You know the truth. Dad told you about my sister. When? Recently? Or when we moved here?”
He holds up both hands. “It was after I became chief of police. Listen. Your dad was only trying to protect you. He just told me to look out for your sister in case she made a move on you, and I have. She’s never shown up here as far as I know.”
Halley breathes in deeply through her nose, trying to contain the fury. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I can’t believe he didn’t. It’s completely unfair. How am I supposed to trust any of you?”
“An excellent question, but not one for this moment. Right now, we need to worry about Kater.”
“Fine. Yes. But we’re not done with this discussion, Chief.”
Early’s relief is palpable. “Yes. Absolutely. Let’s go inside. Tell me everything you touched. I’m gonna have to print you for exclusion.”
“Of course.” She leads him through her steps, from front door to carport to back porch and door, inside, all the way to the bath. “I turned off the water with my knuckle. That’s it. I stepped out, checked the lock, saw the scratches, and called you immediately.”
He lumbers around the place, harrumphing. “You think she was interrupted brushing her teeth?”
“I do. I think the stranger followed her here. The question is why.”
“You’re asking questions about your mom’s case. Could be you rattled someone’s cage. Tell me what this guy looks like again?”
Halley gives the best description she can of the stranger, and the chief gnaws on a toothpick, looking for all the world like the country bumpkin he pretends to be to disarm people into saying and doing more than they’d like. He gets more confessions than anyone she’s ever seen.
He wanders outside, doing three perimeters before stopping at the edge of the long grass where Kater’s yard meets the meadow. He calls her over. “Get the camera from the back of my cruiser, wouldja?” He tosses her the keys.
“You found something?”
At his implacable look, she hurries to the cruiser, bringing back a Nikon D7200 DSLR camera. She takes off the lens cap and hands it over. He shoots toward the toe of his right boot with an audible click. Then farther, toward the drive. She cranes her neck, but his bulk is blocking the way.
“What is it?”
He glances over his shoulder at her, his face set. “Blood.”
Chapter Twenty
Youth is wasted on the young, don’t you think?
Just look at her. Ferrying tools, following orders, glowing, she’s absolutely glowing. Brimming with excitement. Concern, worry, yes. But inside, she’s feeling the titillation, the thrill of being a part of something dark and sinister. Something bigger than herself. She doesn’t even know what it means yet, this arousal, but she will.
I admit to a twinge of it myself. She’s not going to back down. She’s going to try and find out the truth. What will it cost her?
We shall see.
I never thought I’d need to come here, to watch her, to follow. But the chief said it perfectly. She rattled the bars of my cage. Couldn’t leave well enough alone, started asking questions, making calls, pulling files, and I had to visit her in person. See the woman she’s grown into.
And somehow, someway, a new, deeper connection has been formed. One much stronger than the previous one we had.
I admit, my feelings are hurt. How can she not know? How can she not remember?
Not to pat myself on the back, but I do tend to leave an impression. The photos were remarkable. Considering the limitations of the equipment, the composition was stellar. I was sorry to leave them behind.
Of course, I have most of the file, every bit of blood and bone. Collecting crime scene photos is a hobby of mine. I probably have some of the finest memorabilia from the greats of any collector. They are such inspiring decor.
And when looking isn’t enough, there is a whole world to experience.
These connections ... I never know what will cause them. A look? A smile? The sound of a voice, the fit of her jeans? Something. Anything.
