Read Online The Hunted by Alan Jacobson - Free Book Online Page A

before we even got started.”
    The two of them walked into the gymnasium together. Well-worn folding metal chairs had been set up across most of the wood floor. Beneath one of the basketball hoops was a long table outfitted with a black tablecloth and an embroidered, orange Neighborhood Watch emblem.
    Carla took Lauren’s elbow and led her to the front of the room. Lauren, however, kept her head down, listening to the echoing chatter of the people. She could tell there was a good turnout. She felt her stomach do a somersault and rested a hand across her abdomen to steady it.
    “We’ll get started in a minute,” Carla said into Lauren’s ear. “I figure you can tell us about what happened. Include everything you know. Then tell us what you can about Michael.” Carla stopped for a second. “You all right, missy? You don’t look so good.”
    Lauren’s hands were clammy and she felt nauseous. She forced a smile and lifted her head to look at Carla. “Just a little hungry. I’ll be fine.”
    “Are you ready for me to call the meeting to order?”
    Lauren shrugged. “I guess so. I’m not good about baring my soul to strangers. You’d think I would be, doing what I do for a living.”
    “Don’t think twice about it. Everyone who’s been through this can tell you it isn’t fun. But we’re not here for entertainment, we’re here for support.”
    Lauren nodded. “Then I’m ready.”
    Carla lifted a gavel and struck it twice on a small wood block on the table. The room quieted a bit, and she pounded the block once again. “All right, all right, settle down.” As the noise dropped to a tolerable level, Carla began, “Tonight we’re here for Dr. Lauren Chambers, whose husband, Michael, is the subject of our meeting. You’ve all had a chance to read the flyers you were given on the way in. So, I might as well just have Lauren tell you the rest.”
    Lauren lifted her head—and lost her breath. Her eyes darted nervously around the room: nearly the entire gymnasium was full of people, all looking at her, waiting to hear what she had to say. She cleared her tight throat, and took a deep, calming breath.
    “Thanks for coming,” she started in a weak voice. “As you know, my husband Michael, is missing.”
    “Louder,” a man in the back row yelled. He had a cold stare, a bushy beard, and a black knit cap on.
    Something about his eyes bothered her.
    “Lauren,” Carla urged, “please continue, a little louder so everyone can hear you.”
    Lauren broke her gaze from the man in the back. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I said, my husband Michael is missing.” The words were forced, as if the strain of the situation was making it difficult for her to speak. In reality, it was her anxiety over facing a gymnasium full of strangers.
    “I don’t do a lot of public speaking, so I’m sorry if I’m not any good at it.” What she wanted to say is that she’d rather be in bed, hiding under the covers. “Michael went cross-country skiing in Colorado with some fraternity buddies and was supposed to be home a couple of days ago. I haven’t heard from him.” She looked over at Carla, who nodded for her to continue. “Michael is very responsible and I’m sure he’d have called if he was able to.”
    “Do you think he left Colorado?” someone asked.
    “I don’t know. Unfortunately, there isn’t much I know about his trip, or who he went with. I wrote it all down, but... I can’t find it.”
    “So he could still be in Colorado.”
    “I guess.”
    “But he may not be,” Carla cut in. “He might have made it back to town, in which case we all need to be on the lookout for him. His photo is on the flyer, and a bunch of us worked into the early evening tonight to get a hundred of these notices up all around town. I’ve got another thousand of them, and I’ll need volunteers who can take them into Sacramento, El Dorado Hills, Cameron Park, Folsom, Gold River, Rancho Cordova—the whole Highway Fifty corridor