Left to Kill (Adele Sharp #4) - Blake Pierce Page 0,63

at home?”

But Adele was shaking her head already. “No. No, that’s not who he is. He’ll be on the search again.”

John glanced at the sky. “It’ll be evening soon, night is coming.”

“That doesn’t matter to him. He’ll search at night if he has to.”

“He’s a bloodhound, like you.”

Adele snorted. “We’re nothing like each other. You need to get us back to that highway. He’ll be in one of those search parties. John, hurry up. Go!”

The tires screeched. John didn’t need a second invitation as he started swerving through traffic, rapidly leaving the hospital behind them, heading up the road and moving back toward the highway, the first crime scene, and the search parties combing the forest.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

For the second time in the last half hour, John pulled the vehicle to a screeching halt, half on the curb. Adele threw off her buckle, swung open the door, and stepped out, muttering, “We’re going to have to work on your parking skills.”

John was already slamming the other door. The two of them hurried to the coordinator of the search parties. Night had fallen, and already Adele could see a trickle of volunteers in their orange vests moving back toward the parked cars on the side of the highway.

“Hello,” Adele said, “excuse me. Is Joseph Sharp back yet? Sergeant Joseph Sharp?”

The woman standing beneath the tent, behind a white folding table, glanced over. Adele spotted a scattering of extra orange vests and a few whistles. There was a flare as well.

The officer in charge cleared her throat and said, “Excuse me?”

Adele flashed her credentials and then said, “Interpol. Look, I’m his daughter. Is my father back? Joseph Sharp. He’s volunteering.”

The coordinator half glanced toward one of the squad cars, where two other officers were standing, looking on with curiosity.

But then she sighed and pushed back a stray tuft of hair behind her ear; she glanced down at the table and flipped a sheet of paper. The staple in the top left moved, nearly falling out, suggesting this pile of papers had seen good use in the last couple of days.

She flipped through what looked like a list of names, and then settled on one. Adele noticed checkmarks next to some of the names.

The coordinator glanced, tapped a finger, and said, “Sergeant Sharp isn’t back yet. He arrived late. He should still be out searching the western grid. Near the base of Feldberg.”

Adele quickly nodded her thanks. She gestured at John, and together they hurried toward the trees, stepping through the fringe and sidling past a group of ten searchers moving with exhausted motions back toward the waiting tent, already removing their vests with tired arms.

“You think he’ll be out there much longer?” John said, from next to her, as he hurried to keep up.

Adele was jogging, and John eventually had to break into a jog as well. Pine needles crunched, and pine cones scattered. Her footfalls fell softly against the vegetation.

The smell of the forest was dampened by the cold, and the morning sunlight was long gone. Darkness stretched across the sky, threatening the deeper heart of night. Already, the stray tinges of moonlight glimpsed through low cloud cover and thick trees. The rigid bark from the trees cast shadows in scattered patterns like the furrows of a child’s fingers dragged through mud.

“He’ll be out all night if he has to,” Adele muttered.

“You’re sure? It might be smart just to wait for him back there.”

Adele shook her head. She knew her father; she knew he’d still be out searching again long after everyone returned. Her own thoughts moved, cycling in tandem with the motion of her legs and the slow puff of breath as she hurried through the woods. John was breathing heavily already next to her.

Adele spoke her thoughts, if only to air them aloud. “He didn’t think there was anything off about them. That’s what he told me. He barely even mentioned it, except I kept asking.”

“Who?”

“The old couple. He thought they were harmless.”

“Well… maybe they are?”

Adele just shook her head and picked up the pace, scattering pine needles and fallen leaves with each footfall.

John muttered a curse, but then caught up; the two of them fell quiet, jogging, listening to the steady sound of their breathing, hurrying along the forest path. Adele had to pace herself. She knew if she ran too fast, John wouldn’t be able to keep up. But also, if she ran too slowly, night would fall completely, bringing greater darkness. The two of them would