Read Online Tracks of Her Tears by Melinda Leigh - Free Book Online
Authors: Melinda Leigh
Ads: Link
meet you.” Carly shook his hand. A fire at the nearly completed O’Rourke resort back in September had put many people in Solitude out of work.
“Andrew has also volunteered to help with the search today.” Donald’s thick glasses steamed up. He unzipped his North Face jacket and polished the lenses on the hem of his wool sweater.
“Thank you,” Carly said. “We appreciate all the help we can get.”
Hoping the search was ready to start, Carly kept one eye on the front of the room.
“We’re turning it into a corporate retreat, where executives and upper management can learn team-building skills.” Andrew’s chest puffed. “You desperately need more accommodations in this area. The truck stop motel I’m staying in is rough.”
If Carly hadn’t been upset over her missing brother, she would have found the thought of rich Andrew Reynolds sleeping on a lumpy mattress at the truck stop motel humorous. But at that moment she had little interest in Donald, Andrew, or the O’Rourke resort.
Carly saw Zane move in front of the table. “Well, thank you for helping today. Please excuse me.”
“Can I have your attention?” Zane raised his voice over the murmur of conversation. He pointed to the map on the wall. “We’re focusing our initial search on the area in the triangle between the Taylor farm, Amber Lynn Cooper’s apartment in Hannon, and Fletcher’s bar out at the truck stop. As you can see, I’ve divided the area into sections. There is some intentional overlap. Bruce drives a blue cargo van, but be on the lookout for anything unusual. If you spot anything worth getting out of your vehicle to investigate, please radio Sheila first and give her your location. The weather is going from bad to worse, so be careful out there.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
What I wouldn’t give for decent visibility. The storm intensified as Seth drove down the rural highway. Snow was accumulating on the road. The Jeep rounded a bend, and the rear end fishtailed. Seth steered into the slide, and the vehicle straightened. He eased his foot off the gas pedal.
Carly stared out the passenger side. She’d taken off her hat and gloves in the car, and her hands were clenched tightly together in her lap. Patsy sat in the center of the back seat and alternated her attention between the windows on either side of the vehicle. They reached the open space of the interstate that led into Hannon, and Seth pulled over to the shoulder of the road. Inside the Jeep, fear was palpable.
“What are we doing?” Carly asked.
“Honey, the rest of the highway is open right into Hannon. There aren’t any more woods to hide a van, and the county deputies already drove this stretch. If Bruce’s van went off the road here, someone would have seen it.” He reached for her hand across the console. “I’m sorry. Maybe someone else will have better luck.”
“He’s not dead,” Carly insisted. “He can’t be.”
“Here’s out here,” Patsy said. “We just have to find him.”
Seth turned. His mother-in-law was staring out the window on the passenger side of the Jeep, her brows set in a stubborn line. When he’d first married Carly, he’d thought Patsy was a little nuts. She’d make these weird statements, never actually claiming they were predictions or ESP or anything of the sort. She’d just say she had a feeling something was going to happen. And he’d thought the crazy might be contagious since everyone else in the family—hell, everyone in the damned town—took her feelings seriously. Appalled that her husband, the chief of police, an experienced, educated, and intelligent lawman, was on the list of believers, Seth had once asked his father-in-law why. Bill had shrugged and simply said, “Because she’s always right.”
Over the years Seth had learned that when Patsy Taylor said she had a feeling , he’d better pay attention. She’d been the only person to claim Bill’s death hadn’t been natural—and she’d been right
“Andrew has also volunteered to help with the search today.” Donald’s thick glasses steamed up. He unzipped his North Face jacket and polished the lenses on the hem of his wool sweater.
“Thank you,” Carly said. “We appreciate all the help we can get.”
Hoping the search was ready to start, Carly kept one eye on the front of the room.
“We’re turning it into a corporate retreat, where executives and upper management can learn team-building skills.” Andrew’s chest puffed. “You desperately need more accommodations in this area. The truck stop motel I’m staying in is rough.”
If Carly hadn’t been upset over her missing brother, she would have found the thought of rich Andrew Reynolds sleeping on a lumpy mattress at the truck stop motel humorous. But at that moment she had little interest in Donald, Andrew, or the O’Rourke resort.
Carly saw Zane move in front of the table. “Well, thank you for helping today. Please excuse me.”
“Can I have your attention?” Zane raised his voice over the murmur of conversation. He pointed to the map on the wall. “We’re focusing our initial search on the area in the triangle between the Taylor farm, Amber Lynn Cooper’s apartment in Hannon, and Fletcher’s bar out at the truck stop. As you can see, I’ve divided the area into sections. There is some intentional overlap. Bruce drives a blue cargo van, but be on the lookout for anything unusual. If you spot anything worth getting out of your vehicle to investigate, please radio Sheila first and give her your location. The weather is going from bad to worse, so be careful out there.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
What I wouldn’t give for decent visibility. The storm intensified as Seth drove down the rural highway. Snow was accumulating on the road. The Jeep rounded a bend, and the rear end fishtailed. Seth steered into the slide, and the vehicle straightened. He eased his foot off the gas pedal.
Carly stared out the passenger side. She’d taken off her hat and gloves in the car, and her hands were clenched tightly together in her lap. Patsy sat in the center of the back seat and alternated her attention between the windows on either side of the vehicle. They reached the open space of the interstate that led into Hannon, and Seth pulled over to the shoulder of the road. Inside the Jeep, fear was palpable.
“What are we doing?” Carly asked.
“Honey, the rest of the highway is open right into Hannon. There aren’t any more woods to hide a van, and the county deputies already drove this stretch. If Bruce’s van went off the road here, someone would have seen it.” He reached for her hand across the console. “I’m sorry. Maybe someone else will have better luck.”
“He’s not dead,” Carly insisted. “He can’t be.”
“Here’s out here,” Patsy said. “We just have to find him.”
Seth turned. His mother-in-law was staring out the window on the passenger side of the Jeep, her brows set in a stubborn line. When he’d first married Carly, he’d thought Patsy was a little nuts. She’d make these weird statements, never actually claiming they were predictions or ESP or anything of the sort. She’d just say she had a feeling something was going to happen. And he’d thought the crazy might be contagious since everyone else in the family—hell, everyone in the damned town—took her feelings seriously. Appalled that her husband, the chief of police, an experienced, educated, and intelligent lawman, was on the list of believers, Seth had once asked his father-in-law why. Bill had shrugged and simply said, “Because she’s always right.”
Over the years Seth had learned that when Patsy Taylor said she had a feeling , he’d better pay attention. She’d been the only person to claim Bill’s death hadn’t been natural—and she’d been right
Similar Books
