Cut & Run (A Rachel Scott Adventure) - By Traci Hohenstein Page 0,37

I just read about it in the news. I haven’t seen you around the last week, though. Most of the sheriff and FBI folks have been in, but you, I haven’t seen yet.”

“I’m with Florida Omni Search. We assist law enforcement agencies in locating missing people,” Rachel said. She dug out a business card and handed it over to him. “I’m Rachel Scott.”

He looked at the card and then stuffed it in his shirt pocket. “I know the guy that found the arm,” he said as a matter of fact.

Rachel studied his worn, leathery face. “Really?”

“Yup. He’s my son.”

“So that’s an area where he normally hunts?”

“Yup. He pulled up the line to check for gators and pulled up a woman’s arm instead. Ran down to the store screaming like a little girl. After he calmed down, we called the sheriff.”

“I suppose the sheriff’s department has talked to you and your son?”

He nodded before grabbing an empty plastic soda bottle and spitting a stream of brown liquid into it.

“Did you notice anyone strange in the area the week before he found the arm?” Rachel asked, trying not to look repulsed by his actions.

“I told the deputy sheriff about it already. Aaron ran off some man last Friday just as he was coming in for the night. My boy is very territorial with his lines and traps, and this guy looked like he was up to no good.”

Cha-ching. Something Agent Krapek hadn’t shared with her, Rachel thought.

“Did your son Aaron happen to see what kind of vehicle this guy was in?”

“No. He just saw the boat. Pulled up next to the guy and told him to beat it.”

“Can you give me a description of the boat and the man?” Rachel asked, holding her breath. She wasn’t law enforcement, and this tidbit of information apparently wasn’t going to be shared with her. If Drake Reynolds had been on Krapek’s team this time around, he would’ve shared this with Rachel already. But Krapek and Phipps tended not to be so generous. The FBI liked to solve its own cases, and in the last big one the agency had been involved in, Rachel had found the missing teenager before the agents did. This was the case of the daughter of the Florida governor, and Krapek didn’t like getting her toes stepped on given it was such a high-profile case.

“Camo-covered johnny boat. Black guy was driving the boat. Not many black fellows fishing in this area. The FBI had some artist come in earlier today and had my boy describe the fellow he saw.”

Well, that was something to go on, Rachel thought. She thanked the older man and then headed back to share the information with her team. All it took was something small like this to crack a case wide open. The black man and his boat may not have had anything to do with the O’Malley case. Then again, it may have everything in the world to do with it.

CHAPTER 26

Rachel called Matt on the way back from Houma.

“Your timing is perfect. The FBI wants me to come in and take a look at a sketch,” Matt said.

“When?” Rachel asked. She had a pretty good idea that the sketch the FBI wanted to show Matt was the one of the man who Aaron had run off.

“This afternoon. Anything new turn up?” he asked.

Rachel could hear the desperation in Matt’s voice. She couldn’t bear to think about what Matt was going through. Losing his wife and not knowing where his kids were. If they were safe or not. Unfortunately, she knew the pain only too well.

“We’re on our way back from Houma. Part of my team is going back to work canvassing the area where your truck was discovered,” she answered. “I just wanted to call and check in with you.”

Rachel couldn’t believe she hadn’t received any strong leads from the hotline, other than the usual crazy people who just wanted attention. She hated that she didn’t have anything new to tell him. After all the media surrounding this case, no witnesses had come forward yet. Rachel wanted to go back to the original scene of the crime. It hadn’t taken place in a desolate, rural area, after all. This was freaking New Orleans, for goodness’ sake. Similar to New York, the city that never sleeps, New Orleans was open twenty-four hours a day. There was always activity. Homeless people, tourists, and locals all commingled at all hours of the day and night around the