Hidden In The Everglades. Margaret DaleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
rotting smell of vegetation coupled with the incessant noise of insects brought back childhood memories. “Maybe I should amend my earlier statement. Some things change. That isn’t one of them. I prefer pursuing an adventure somewhere else. At the moment somewhere air-conditioned.” Beads of perspiration rolled down Kyra’s face, blurring her vision for a second until she blinked to clear it.
Michael swiped a hand across his damp forehead. “I haven’t gotten used to the humidity yet either, and it’s been four months.”
When Boomer approached the short pier, the dog lumbered over the wooden planks, some broken and missing, going back and forth from one side to the other until he reached the end. The bloodhound stopped and sat, looking up at Harvey as if to say this was as far as he would go.
“Good boy.” Harvey scratched behind Boomer’s ears.
Michael went to the edge and leaned over. “Amy’s kayak isn’t here so she must have it at the town dock.”
“One- or two-man?” With her hand shielding her eyes, Kyra scanned the open waterway that stretched across a few hundred yards to more tangled vegetation, one mangrove island after another. Where did the killer go? Who was the second man? Why had the man killed Preston and Tyler?
“Two, like my kayak I keep there.”
“I’ll have Wilson check to see if her kayak is at the dock. Someone could have given her a ride there. If it’s gone, then we’ll need to search the swamp for Amy.” Gabe dropped the chewed-up toothpick into the top pocket of his shirt.
Harvey took off his beat-up straw hat and mopped his face with a handkerchief, then stuffed it back into his jeans. “I’ll have Boomer check around the pier and see if he can come up with anything else.” Harvey plopped his hat back on his head and indicated to Boomer to get up. “Then we’ll head back along the path.”
“So this was a waste of time.” What had Amy gotten caught up in? Michael went back over the past few days in his head, trying to remember anything she might have said to him to help them find her. He’d been gone a lot because his partner had been on vacation. Thankfully his partner had got back yesterday evening and could fill in for Michael this morning at the clinic. But that consolation didn’t give him the answers he needed.
“No, not totally. We know wherever Amy went she used a car most likely. Yeah, it would have been nice to have Boomer lead us to her.” Gabe waved his hand toward Harvey and his dog beginning their trip back to Pelican Lane. “I’m heading to the station. We need to expand our search of the town and see if Amy’s kayak is at the public pier.”
Michael stared at the canal gently flowing past the old pier. The water’s smooth surface—like a mirror—reflected the nearby trees in it. A breeze blew the scent of overripe, damp vegetation to his nostrils. Every shade of green from a light yellowish tint to a dark vibrant one met his inspection of the terrain.
Amy, where are you? Are you safe? In the past he would have prayed to the Lord, but for months he’d been silent. He pivoted to go back and nearly collided with Kyra behind him.
His hand shot out to steady her. Automatically he brought her closer, her feminine scent driving the aromas of the swamp into the background and totally centering his focus on the beautiful woman with her auburn hair pulled back from her face. That only emphasized her large eyes, a golden-brown like dark honey. “I’m sorry.”
She chuckled. “The last place I’d want to end up is in that water.” Her gaze shifted to a hole in the plank at the canal below. “I wasn’t like you and Amy. I didn’t go exploring much. Put me in the rough section of a town at night, and I’d feel more comfortable.”
A shiver flowed from her, through his hands and up his arms, making him acutely aware that his teenage fantasy girl was standing before him. His attention latched on to her mouth, so close that his long-ago dreams of kissing Kyra overwhelmed him. Throwing him completely off guard. He stepped back, the heel of one foot coming down a couple of inches over the end of the pier.
He teetered a few seconds. She reached out to catch him before he went into the water. He managed to regain his balance and sidled away before he made a total fool of himself. He’d been serious about Sarah in Chicago. They had planned to marry until a man fell asleep at the wheel of his car and had hit them. Despite his injuries, Michael had tried to save Sarah, but all his medical knowledge hadn’t kept her from slipping away from him only minutes after he’d manage to get to her in the wrecked car. The pain in her eyes, the last shuddering breath she’d taken still tormented him.
“Good recovery.” Her beautiful mouth formed a heart-melting smile that touched a coldness he’d been encased in for over a year.
“Let’s leave before we both end up in the water.” He allowed her to go first toward the path that led through the grove of trees. “I remember when this pier was in good shape and used by a lot of the neighbors on Pelican Lane. But a couple of hurricanes have taken their toll on it. I think Amy is one of the few who still use it from time to time.”
“Has much else changed about the town?”
“Its population has grown to three thousand. Other than that, no.” But then he hadn’t really paid a lot of attention. He’d thrown himself into his new job, relieved that the pace was a bit slower than a Chicago hospital but enough that he didn’t dwell on his past. He’d needed that. Or so he thought. Maybe his emotional distancing had brought all this on. The pace might have been slower, but it hadn’t stopped him from working long hours rather than face his feelings head-on.
Harvey, Gabe and Boomer stood off the trail near the edge of it.
Kyra approached them. “What did the dog find?”
“Several cigarette butts.” Gabe took out an evidence bag, stooped and eased the filter ends into the small manila envelope. “May be nothing. May be important.”
Standing, he studied the ground around him a long moment, then ambled behind Boomer and Harvey. The bloodhound went to the side deck.
“That’s probably the way the assailant went into the house,” Kyra said while the trio made their way to Gabe’s patrol car.
“By the time DNA testing comes back on the cigarette butts, Amy could be dead.”
“It can take a while even with a rush on it, but it could help make a case against the guy when he is found.”
“That might be too late for my sister.” When Michael emerged from the undergrowth onto the road near the Pattersons’ house, he saw Gabe on his cell. Harvey was pulling away in his old pickup truck with Boomer in the back, looking at Michael.
“Officer Connors just called to tell me he’s checked all Amy’s usual haunts and found nothing. No one has seen her.”
“How about Laurie?” Kyra asked, looking down at her muddy tennis shoes for the second time that day.
“Connors said no one answered when he called her house about an hour ago. He even drove by and didn’t see Mrs. Carson’s white Chevy out front. Since she works evenings, he thought she might be there and was sleeping or something.”
“If anyone knows where Amy is it would be Laurie. Where one goes the other usually isn’t far behind.” Michael stuffed his hands into his front jean pockets, his shoulders slumping forward. He needed to do something. He couldn’t sit around and just wait. He’d never been good at doing that. He looked for solutions to problems and carried them out—or at least he had until he hit an emotional wall with Sarah’s death. “What can I do to help?”
“Gabe, maybe Michael and I could go to Laurie’s and see if she or her mother are home yet. That way you can use all your men for the search.”
“Fine. As I told you before, I can use any help I can get. Call if you find out anything.” Gabe opened his car door and climbed inside.
“I will.” The sun’s rays tinted Kyra’s cheeks a rosy