Prodigal by Judy K. Walker

Author:Judy K. Walker [Walker, Judy K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781946720016
Publisher: Judy K. Walker

38

Luther drove past the other parked cars, squeezing his way as close to the old park cabin as he could. He blocked someone else in—Virginia tags, so it was probably one of the task force guys. Tough shit. Luther wouldn’t be here long. The tape barrier crossed the lane just ahead of his vehicle, and again farther on, marking off a twenty-foot span of road. He wondered if there was anybody on the other side, wanting to get out. If so, he doubted they’d stop for a couple of orange cones and some flimsy tape.

The deputy nodded at a couple of State Police guys that looked vaguely familiar. Some of the other men milling around wore FBI khakis and jackets. He hesitated. Things were getting complicated, and for once he did not envy Grant’s position. Luther could avoid making an ass of himself most of the time, but knew he didn’t have the temperament for interagency politics. Today was a good day to be a simple investigator.

Luther turned in a slow circle, taking in the gravel road, the leaf-strewn parking area with room for a couple of vehicles, the patchy grass and pine needles between the parking area and the cabin, and the people tramping around. The scene was a cluster-fuck. Either they’d processed it lickety-split and decided there was nothing there, or they’d decided whatever was there had already been trampled. Too many cooks by the fire.

So what had the man (Luther decided to play the odds) been thinking? Why had he come here?

Luther stared at the woods in front of him, until the various shades and textures of gray trunks merged, taking over the space between them. He currently stood about eight miles from the girl’s house. Unless the kidnapper was either really stupid or didn’t care about getting caught, this couldn’t have been his final destination. It had been searched less than eighteen hours after the abduction, albeit apparently half-assed, thanks to Luther’s brother. Maybe the man was taking Rachel (“the girl”—stick with “the girl”) to meet someone. That scenario would make sense if it were a custody dispute, but for once that wasn’t an issue.

Goddamn, Luther hoped they didn’t really think his brother was the poor child’s dad. Things would get awfully complicated, awfully fast.

Luther brought his attention back to the taped road. So the kidnapper had brought her here for a quick stop. He could have been meeting someone, even if it wasn’t about custody. Luther tried to pull his mind back from the dark places where people sold children, reminding himself that there was no sign of a meeting. Of course, with the state of the scene, there probably wouldn’t be.

Please, God, don’t let forensics find any blood.

Maybe the man just needed to pause for his peace of mind, take a moment to ensure the girl was secure, that he hadn’t messed up anything before continuing to his final destination.

“Deputy Beck!”

Luther felt as if he’d jumped out of his skin, but anyone around him wouldn’t have seen a flinch.

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