Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [61]
“Hal, are you okay? What’s going on?”
“Could I just talk to Nick, please?”
Before she could say anything more, Nick was at her side, reaching for the phone. She surrendered it and loitered by the desk until Nick shot her a look.
“Hal, what is it?” He turned his back to them and listened. “Don’t let anyone touch anything.” The panic in his voice exploded, laced with urgency.
Maggie responded, immediately getting to her feet. Christine gently grabbed Timmy by the shoulders.
“Timmy, go get ready for bed.”
“Ah, Mom, it’s early.”
“Timmy, now.” Her brother’s panic was contagious. The boy grudgingly headed upstairs.
“I mean it, Hal.” Now there was anger to camouflage the panic. It didn’t fool her. Christine knew her brother all too well. “Secure the area, but don’t let anyone touch a thing. O’Dell’s here with me. We’ll be there in about fifteen to twenty minutes.” When he turned, his eyes immediately sought out Maggie’s as he hung up the phone.
“My God. They found Matthew’s body, didn’t they?” Christine said what only seemed obvious.
“Christine, I swear, if you print a word.” The angry panic threatened to turn into fury.
“People have the right to know.”
“Not before his mother. Will you, at least, please have the decency to wait—for her sake?”
“On one condition…”
“Jesus, Christine, listen to yourself!” he spat out in such anger it forced her to take a step backward.
“Just promise you’ll call me when it’s okay to go ahead. Is that too much to ask?”
He shook his head in disgust. She looked to Maggie, who waited by the door, no longer willing to come between brother and sister. Then, she looked back at Nick. “Come on, Nicky. You don’t want me camped out on Michelle Tanner’s front porch, do you?” She smiled, just enough to let him know she wasn’t serious.
“Don’t you dare talk to anyone or print a damn thing until you hear from me. And stay the hell away from Michelle Tanner.” He wagged an angry finger in her face, then stomped out.
Christine waited until the Jeep’s taillights turned the corner at the end of the street. She grabbed the phone and punched *69. It rang only once.
“Deputy Langston.”
“Hal, hi, it’s Christine.” Before he could ask any questions she hurried on. “Nicky and Maggie just left. Nicky asked me to keep trying George Tillie. You know, ol’ George, he could sleep through World War III.”
“Yeah?” The one word was filled with suspicion.
“I can’t remember the exact location, you know to tell George.”
Silence. Damn, he was onto her.
She took a stab. “It’s off Old Church Road…”
“Right.” He sounded relieved. “Tell George to go a mile past the state-park marker. He can leave his car in Ron Woodson’s pasture, up on top of the hill. He’ll see the spotlights down in the woods. We’ll be close to the river.”
“Thanks, Hal. I know it probably sounds insensitive and unlikely, but I keep hoping it’s some runaway and not Matthew, for Michelle’s sake.”
“I know what you mean. But there’s no doubt. It’s Matthew. I gotta go. Tell George to be careful walking down here.”
She waited for the click, then dialed Taylor Corby’s home number.
CHAPTER 32
Light snow glittered in the Jeep’s headlights. They parked on an incline that overlooked the river. Bright spotlights illuminated the grove of trees below, creating eerie shadows, ghosts with spindly arms that waved in the breeze.
It reminded Maggie of a similar night, years ago, searching for a killer in the dark woods of Vermont. She wondered how much of her memory bank was filled with horror stories where other normal people stored things like Christmas traditions and family events.
The temperature had plunged in the last two hours. The cold cut through her wool jacket, sharp slashes like tiny knives. She hadn’t thought to pack a coat. Even Morrelli shivered in his denim jacket. Within seconds, snowflakes clung to her eyelashes, her hair and her clothes, adding wetness to the biting cold. To make matters worse, they had over a quarter of a mile to walk. After contaminating the last crime scene, Morrelli was now overcompensating, instructing his officers and