River of Bones Dan Padavona (amazing books to read .TXT) 📖

Raven eyed Darren.

“You do want in on the investigation.”

He smirked.

“It’s been a while since I got to play cops and killers.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Thursday, August 12th

10:30 p.m.

Thomas dialed the Orange Tulip bed-and-breakfast outside Kane Grove. After the front desk forwarded his call to Justine Adkins, the phone rang seven times and dumped to a recorded message, as it had the two previous times he’d called. Either Justine had gone out for the night, or she wasn’t accepting phone calls. That made Thomas wonder if she was avoiding Paige Sutton, for the same unknown reason Justine hadn’t told her old friend where she was staying.

Sitting at the kitchen table with Jack at his feet, Thomas yawned into his hand and wiped his eyes. He should have been asleep by now. But this case wouldn’t let him rest, and he sensed something important happening behind the scenes between Justine, Paige Sutton, and the missing Skye Feron. He massaged Jack’s neck. The dog sat up and lolled his tongue, panting up at Thomas.

“What should we do, Jack?” The dog grinned at him. “Paige Sutton lied to me tonight, but I don’t know why.”

He peered through the deck door. Night hid the lake from his vision, the darkness pressing against the glass like a living thing. A light shone inside the guest house. LeVar was still awake. Thomas wanted to knock on the teenager’s door and talk about anything except murdered girls and skeletons in the mud.

On his memo pad, he’d scribbled notes about the case. The girls wore friendship bracelets, and one bracelet ended up on Paige Sutton’s counter after someone picked the lock on her front door. If Thomas bought Paige’s story, and he wasn’t sure he did, Justine’s bracelet was at home. Which meant this new bracelet belonged to Skye Feron. Or someone who knew about the bracelets had designed a replica.

Did someone murder Skye, bury her beside the river, and emerge six years later to haunt Paige?

His inability to contact Justine Adkins didn’t sit right with him. The woman wasn’t a suspect, but Thomas sensed her involvement in Skye’s disappearance. He rolled his phone around in his hand, undecided. Then he called Aguilar, remembering his deputy was working the swing shift until midnight.

“I need you to do me a favor. Drive over to Kane Grove. There’s a bed-and-breakfast on the outskirts of the city called the Orange Tulip.”

“I’m familiar with the place.”

“Justine Adkins is staying on property. Check for her Acura, and if there’s a light on in her room, bang on the door and ensure she’s all right.”

“And if there isn’t a light on?”

“No reason to wake her. But scope the place out. Someone is playing a dangerous game with Paige Sutton. He might go after Justine next.”

“Roger. I’ll radio you when I get there.”

“Thank you, Aguilar.”

Thomas set the phone down and sat back. He hoped he’d acted fast enough to protect Justine Adkins.

* * *

Beyond the flood that had unearthed the teenage girl’s skeleton, the Lucifer Falls creek snaked through the state park, wound along a county route, and passed sleepy farmhouses on its way to meeting its mother. The creek fed into the Nightshade River and continued south toward Kane Grove before it cut into the next county. Along its many bends and choke points, water converged during torrential rains and overflowed its banks, scouring away the land. Tonight, the water meandered in quietude, though it coughed up the thick boughs it had swallowed during this week’s storms.

Fog crept off the river like a silent, stalking beast, spreading across the flood plains as it bled into Kane Grove. The fog consumed all, including the supermarket on the city’s south side, the mist thickening until it was impossible to see the corralled shopping carts.

Justine Adkins encountered the fog when she exited the supermarket, pushing a cart. She’d bought just enough to feed herself for two more nights, if she didn’t leave sooner. Going out to a restaurant wasn’t an option, if she wanted to keep a low profile and avoid anyone from her past recognizing her. One hand held the car keys between her palm and the shopping cart handle, the keys digging into her flesh and pressing against bone. She couldn’t see her car yet, only the ocean of mist wetting her skin.

A silhouette emerged as someone grunted and cried out. A van sat in a parking space catty-corner to her car. Behind the van, a man in a wheelchair struggled to lift grocery bags through the side doors. He held the bag under one arm as he steadied himself with the other by gripping the open door. The man made a pitiful sound as he wrestled with the shopping bag.

“May I help you, sir?”

“Thank you, but I think I can do it.”

Justine stopped the shopping cart behind her Acura and clicked the key fob. The car beeped twice and flashed its lights, pulling the man into greater detail. His feet rested on the foot plates, one leg encased in a plaster cast from the knee down. The poor man was injured, not crippled.

“I can’t carry bags or push a cart on crutches, you understand. Gotta use the wheelchair until I load everything into the van.”

Justine nodded in reply.

The casters squealed like frightened kittens and kept shifting as he hoisted the bag. She flinched every time the chair rolled backward. It was akin to watching a man on his last legs stumble toward the finish line during a marathon. The battle appeared lost.

“Are you sure I can’t help? It wouldn’t be any trouble.”

“You’re very kind. But I have to learn on my own. It’s only been a month since the accident, you see.”

Justine placed her groceries in the trunk. Casting another glance over her shoulder, she rounded the car and set the purse inside. Though he’d refused her help, she couldn’t leave him like this.

The bottom of the bag ripped. He cursed as food cans smacked the macadam and