Fearless Gunfighter. Joanna WayneЧитать онлайн книгу.
reflection a haunting image of the agony that had kept her awake most of the night. Her eyelids were puffy, the circles below her eyes dark.
The little sleep she’d gotten had been restless and interrupted by frightening nightmares where Rachel was crying for help or fighting for her life.
The highway noises hadn’t helped. Eighteen-wheelers sounded as if they were roaring through her room. Exhaustion would work against her. She needed to be fully alert today, picking up on every clue no matter how small or how well hidden.
She knew from experience and training that it was the seemingly unimportant details that frequently made the difference.
Her sister had spent almost seventy dollars in a bakery. That couldn’t have all been for coffee and sweets, but it was a large enough purchase that hopefully whoever had waited on Rachel would remember her. They might recall if she’d been alone or with someone. If she’d seemed distraught or worried. If anyone had harassed her in any way.
Reaching for her brush, Sydney ran it through her layered sandy-blond hair, attempting to force the unruly locks into place. She was only mildly successful.
Her movements on automatic, Sydney applied the basics—moisturizing sunscreen, eyeliner, mascara, a smear of gloss on her lips. The first stop of the morning would be Dani’s Delights.
Her phone rang on her way to her car. She fished it from her handbag and checked the caller ID. FBI.
Was it possible Jackson Clark wanted her on the case despite her personal connection?
Her surge of optimism was quickly followed by a sharp pain to her stomach that almost doubled her over.
Please don’t let this be bad news about Rachel, she prayed silently as she took the call.
“Is this Agent Sydney Maxwell?”
“Yes.”
“Can you hold for a minute? Jackson Clark in the Dallas office of the Bureau would like to speak to you.”
“Yes.”
She held her breath the few seconds before his booming voice came through. “Thanks for holding, Sydney.”
“No problem.” No hint in his tone that this was a bad-news call. She breathed easier.
“I don’t think we’ve met but I’m familiar with your work,” Jackson said, “especially that amazing job you did on the Swamp Strangler case.”
“Thank you. We haven’t officially met,” she agreed, “but I took one of your classes at Quantico.”
“Sorry I don’t remember. Those classes are usually overflowing and I’m busy trying to cover more than the time allows.”
“I didn’t expect you to remember me.”
“I hope I didn’t call you at a bad time,” he said, “but I just got off the phone with Roland Farmer. He mentioned your sister didn’t show up at a resort near Austin a little over a week ago and hasn’t been heard from since. I hope you have good news by now.”
“No, sir. She’s still missing and I’m extremely concerned.” Panic verging on hysteria would be more accurate, but a good FBI agent never admitted panic.
“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Jackson said. “I’m sure you’ve talked to local law enforcement.”
“Yes, and checked all the hospitals as well as ran a paper trail. The last place we have any record of her whereabouts was a charge she’d made to a credit card in a bakery in Winding Creek, Texas, called Dani’s Delights.”
“Yes. I also have that information. Does she have relatives or friends in that area?”
“No relatives for certain and no friends that I know of.”
“How much do you know about the other women who have gone missing from that area over the past six months?”
“Just the facts that are publicly available. Names. Dates of disappearance. Descriptions. That sort of thing.”
“But you think Rachel could be the fourth victim of the perp or perhaps fifth if he killed the girl whose body was found Saturday.”
“I think it’s possible. Her disappearance fits the pattern. In any case, I think she’s met with foul play and is in immediate danger.”
“Based on what I’ve heard, I think you could be right. Bottom line, I’m heading up a team of agents to help the locals investigate.”
“When will you start?”
“Is today soon enough for you?”
“Yes. We need to act fast before another body shows up. All of the women are likely in extreme danger.”
“I don’t know if you’ve heard but the body has been identified as Sara Goodwin, a sixteen-year-old runaway who was apparently living on the streets in San Antonio. She was never reported as missing, so we have little information on her except what we have from forensics.”
“Which is?”
“Preliminary indications are that she was dead for up to a month before they found the body. Cause of death is believed to be by trauma to the head caused by a sharp object.”
“Did they find any DNA or other evidence to help identify the perp?”
“Nothing firm at this point. The reason I called is that Roland said you were willing to be assigned to this case.”
“More than willing.” She needed all the information the FBI could uncover to help her find Rachel.
“In that case, welcome aboard. How soon can you get to Winding Creek, Texas?”
“I’m already here, on my way to Dani’s Delights.”
“Perfect.”
“Then you’re not worried about my extremely close relationship with one of the victims?”
“I don’t give a damn about protocol when lives are involved. You’re a gifted profiler. You proved that on the Swamp Strangler case.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m leaving my office in about thirty minutes and heading your way. I’ll be meeting with Sheriff Cavazos when I get there, but after that I’d like you and the other agents to be available for a full briefing. I’ll call you when I have the meeting place verified.”
Off and running. She liked Jackson Clark better by the second.
“One other thing,” he said. “Don’t identify yourself as an FBI agent or as Rachel’s sister just yet. I may want you to go undercover on this unless you’ve already blown that option.”
“I showed Rachel’s picture to a cowboy and a waitress at a local roadhouse last night and asked if they’d seen her. Neither had. I didn’t mention that she was my sister or even that she was missing.”
“Can’t undo that. If it comes out, so be it, but don’t mention Rachel again. Get out there, look over the town and the area, talk to people while we’re gathering as much information as we can on the missing girls. You’ve got a talent for noting what most people miss. Use it.”
“I’ll need an identity.”
“In the works. Lane will be forwarding you a driver’s license and establishing the background materials. You’re Syd Cotton, a freelance travel/ photographer from New York. It’s your first time to this area of Texas, so naturally you’ll be asking lots of questions and nosing around.”
“I’ll stick to that until you tell me differently.”
“I’ll be in touch around noon and, Sydney, glad to have you aboard. I think you’ll be a real asset to our team.”
As excited as she was to be on the insider team, the thought