Left to Kill (Adele Sharp #4) - Blake Pierce Page 0,20

tell volumes.

The officer followed his gaze, noticed the child seat in the back of the car. Also well-maintained, also perfectly situated in the clean seats.

The officer cleared his throat. “You live here?” He hesitated, hinging on a decision. He scanned the interior of the vehicle, his eyes moving over the man’s face, along the vehicle interior, toward the car seat. Then he sighed. “Well, stay safe. Have a good day.”

The stranger smiled once more, ending with a half wince. It was hard to gauge these exactly. But facial expressions didn’t always have to be one or the other. It was the combinations that people responded to most. The man had delighted himself when he first discovered this. A smile could be mixed with a wince. A frown could be reformed into a furrowed brow, projecting concern instead of anger. So many emotions, so delightful. So useful.

The man drove away from the checkpoint, moving past the stopped police vehicles and the barricades.

As for emotions, the man was familiar with only two. One a secret.

The other: rage. His right hand twisted the steering wheel. She’d escaped. Rebelled. Ran away from home. That couldn’t be left to stand. The others would get funny ideas. And while he might not be able to punish her, not yet, he would make sure to punish the rest of them. They would pay for their sister’s crime. But of course, given the chance, he would make sure the sister paid as well. Runaways couldn’t stay away from home for long. Eventually they all came clawing back. And if they didn’t come back, he would have to go find them and bring them home.

The clean, pristine minivan chugged away from the checkpoint, meandering through the winding trails of the Black Forest, heading home.

CHAPTER NINE

The air was cold around them, sending chills down Adele’s brown jacket, eliciting a shiver. She stood at the edge of the caution tape and orange cones circling the cordoned off area. John was at her side, one hand braced against one of the sawhorses that had been brought in. Only a thin trail of traffic meandered through on the other side of the barriers, following the directions of two traffic officers.

Adele looked at the many cars parked on the shoulder of the road up ahead—thirty vehicles on one side of the road and another twenty on the other.

She heard sharp commands, barking voices. She glimpsed orange vests being handed out from beneath the tent. She saw whistles doled out to group leaders, as people were organized into groups of ten. All of them volunteers.

Adele heard choppers overhead and glimpsed two of the birds fly by, low over the trees, sweeping along the forest across from the highway. Dogs strained on leashes, sniffing the various pedestrians and volunteers.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” John said. He frowned. “They will trample over any evidence.”

Adele folded her hands into her sleeves for a bit of warmth. The chill had picked up again, and a thin layer of snow had fallen overnight. The skies above were gray, threatening further interruption.

“Without them, there won’t be any evidence to find,” she said, nodding toward the gathering of people. Nearly a hundred milling souls at this point.

John frowned. “Marshall said many of them are cops, rescue workers…”

“What’s your point?”

“Means some of them aren’t. See them?” He nodded toward a group on the far end, the first leading into the forest. All of them wore orange vests, and the one in the lead, a brown-haired boy with sleek glasses, had a whistle draped over his neck. “Can’t be much older than the victim.”

Adele shrugged. “College-age kids, looking to find one of their own. Can’t blame them.”

Adele heard more orders being barked by the coordinator of the search. The woman had a speaker to her mouth, the black device clutched in a gloved hand. The sound emanated from the squad car parked next to her as she called out, “Attention! We will search in grid patterns. Everyone stick to your team leader, as they’ve been given instructions. If you see anything, have the leader blow a whistle. One of our officers will be to you soon. The choppers overhead can be flagged down in an emergency. Your team leaders have been provided with flares. If you have any questions, please direct them to the nearest officer; also, be careful not to feed the dogs. Don’t pet them either. They’re here for a job, the same as you. Good luck.”

There was a