Left to Kill (Adele Sharp #4) - Blake Pierce Page 0,22
Adele thanked the officer, and then moved toward the edge of the forest, away from the bent light post.
She reached the trees and could hear John moving behind her, following, allowing her to take the lead.
She scanned the branches, her eyes flicking along the prickling needles. The detritus hadn’t fared as well as the asphalt. A thin layer of snow had fallen over the ground. It would make it difficult for the search team already; finding a needle in a haystack was one thing. Finding a needle in a frozen haystack was even more difficult. Especially since they didn’t even know if they were looking for a needle.
“See anything?” John asked. Adele scanned the tree line, her eyes flitting from trunk to boughs.
She paused for a moment and said, “No broken branches. Strange.”
John leaned in and also looked. The trail of flecked blood and footprints led to the edge of the road, but beyond, the low branches and brambles and tree limbs seemed undamaged.
“What do you think that means?” he said. “Was she dropped off here?”
Adele shook her head. “No, the doctor said she’d been running through the forest. At least that’s what the wounds on her feet suggest. So why aren’t the twigs and bushes and small branches broken?”
John just stared, looking at the forest, then glancing to Adele, waiting for her to fill in the answer.
“Careful,” she said. “Our girl was careful not to break the branches. She avoided them. See, look,” she said, pointing to a particularly thick portion of brush. “It would be nearly impossible to get through. You couldn’t, you’re too large.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“But she’s smaller. If she wanted to, she could sidle this way.” Adele showed him, slipping through the brush and moving with a crab step through the trees. “So while she was running from something, scared, she also moved quietly. Maybe that means she’s used to moving through the woods. Avoiding noise.”
“Or else she’s just a clever girl, and was being chased by someone. Didn’t want to be heard breaking branches.”
“Maybe,” Adele said, trailing off. She sighed and turned. “You’re right, though. She was out here for hours. There’s no telling which direction she came from. She was lost, nearly frostbitten, and delusional. She could have meandered in circles for all we know.”
John also breathed heavily and looked through the trees, his eyes straining as he spotted orange jackets moving through the forest, glimpsed occasionally as the search parties spread out.
Just then, John’s hand twitched toward his waist. He frowned and pulled out his phone, raising it to his ear. A pause, then in French, “Hello?”
John listened for a moment, and Adele watched him quizzically. She raised an eyebrow.
“It’s Robert,” he said, quietly. Then he listened a bit more.
Adele waited, the cold still settling on her, her breath coming in vaporous puffs.
She scanned the forest as John spoke with Robert. Why had the girl avoided the trees? Why had she been so careful to step through the undergrowth, not breaking anything? That wasn’t a natural skill for someone running for their lives. Adele had been in forests before. She had been chased through some before herself. And cold, with adrenaline, usually precluded caution and care around the small branches and thin brush.
She turned to John as he lowered the phone. “What is it?”
“Robert says the girl’s parents put together a list of known locations. The last place she mailed them from was a youth hostel at the edge of the forest not far north of the High Rhine.”
“Youth hostel?” said Adele.
“Basically a B&B for college kids,” John explained, although Adele knew what a hostel was. “A lot of backpackers use it. Word of mouth, some reviews online. Robert had one of the techs cross-reference it with our sixteen other missing persons and found others had stayed there.”
“How many of them?”
“Three,” said John. “Two girls and one fellow. All of them college age. All of them foreign. They posted about it on social media or checked in on apps. There’s a chance that even more stayed there, but we only have three confirmed.”
“And all of these are still missing people? None of them were found?”
John shook his head. “Still missing. Same hostel. Same as Amanda.”
Adele frowned. She glanced toward the trees at the undisturbed brush once more, then breathed a long jet of steam. “All right, let’s go check it out.”
CHAPTER TEN
John growled. “Ask her if she knew our victim.”
“What’s he saying?” said the hostel manager, glancing from John to Adele.
John returned