Left to Kill (Adele Sharp #4) - Blake Pierce Page 0,29
the third woman was within earshot. She was still a few paces away and was hovering, stepping in and out as if there were an imaginary circle full of energy shocking her every time she drew too close.
John was staring at the girl, expectantly. Adele, though, kept her gaze averted, allowing the girl to approach at her own speed.
“Amanda Johnson, Catherine Waters, Ross Ortega, and Yusuf Yazici,” she said, rattling off the names of the four people who’d all gone missing from Ms. Schroeder’s hostel. “We have a few others. Here, my partner has a list.”
She gestured to John and he reached into his pocket and unfolded the printed out piece of paper. They’d managed to compile more than sixteen names who’d gone missing in the area who fit the age range in the last three years.
John extended the list.
The boy and girl gave it a cursory glance, but didn’t seem to spend much time. They both shook their heads. “No idea,” the boy said.
“Do you mind taking a longer look?” Adele said. “Those people are all still missing. There’s a chance we can find them. But we need help.”
The boy crossed his arms, turning back toward the water spigot and adjusting his own container beneath the faucet. The girl, though, frowned, her face creasing in thought. A flutter of worry seemed to cross her countenance, and she leaned in, reading the list closer this time.
As she did, though, she slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t know them. We only started coming through here a few months ago.”
“We?” said Adele. “This is your boyfriend?”
The young woman made a face. “No.”
The young man made an equally disgusted face.
Adele decided she wasn’t interested in deciphering this. “And you’re sure you don’t know any of those names?”
The young man shrugged. “A lot of people come through these areas. A lot. I know at least six of my own friends who have been here in the last year. It’s a popular spot. Quite beautiful, isn’t it?”
He inhaled a bit, looking away from the faucet and glancing at the trees. In that single breath, inhaling through his nose and leaning back like a rooster who just crowed, he seemed to refresh himself, his chest puffing out.
In that same instance, Adele felt a stab of frustration.
“You don’t know any of those names on that list. Not one?” she said.
The girl leaned in again, politely compliant. The boy rolled his eyes, but at a growl from John, he also glanced at the list. Again, both of them shook their heads.
Adele sighed. It had been a long shot. She knew that in the last three years, thousands of people had made their way through these forests. Tens of thousands. Sixteen names was a long shot.
She decided to switch tack. “Around the area—you said you’ve just been coming here for a few months; did you come here in the summer?”
The girl nodded. The boy didn’t say anything.
“And in that time, around the campgrounds, has there been anyone strange? Especially someone older. Someone who came by, and made you feel uncomfortable. Maybe asking inappropriate questions. Spent too much time looking, just gave you a bad vibe?”
The boy muttered something beneath his breath and chuckled. The girl flashed a smile toward him and muttered, “So rude.”
“What?” Adele said.
The girl shook her head. “Nothing, he was making a joke about a friend of ours. But no, seriously it’s nothing.”
Adele’s frustration was mounting again, but before she could express it, the third party now made her way completely from the RV and was standing only two paces from the water pump. She cleared her throat and said, “Excuse me.”
She spoke with an accent. Adele looked over. “Yes?”
The girl cleared her throat. Still with an accent, she spoke in clipped German. “You’re asking about strange people around here?”
Adele nodded. “Yes, might I ask where you’re from?”
The girl’s brow crinkled a bit at the question, but quietly, she said, still in German, “London. I’m here for winter break. But that’s not important. There is a strange person around here.”
The boy glanced back at her and gave the faintest shake of his head.
“They should know,” the Londoner said, frowning.
The male camper returned the frown.
The girl from London looked away from him and fixed her gaze on Adele.
“Look, not everyone around here trusts cops. We don’t come here to have more rules. We like the lifestyle. But sometimes there are others who might ruin it for us. People who are predators.”
Adele was now