Page 43 of Chasing Creed

“Why would you—” The realization shot across her face. “You’re asking if I have anything with Kyle’s scent?”

“Yes.” He knew it was a long shot. But obviously, the scent they removed from the vehicle yesterday was not Kyle’s. Creed did not want to climb around inside that back seat again with all that blood. If he and Grace were to do another search, he wanted some guarantee that the scent belonged to Kyle.

“That means you didn’t find him.” A statement, not a question. Lydia placed her utensils down and grasped the edge of the table. “The sheriff said there was a whole lot of blood.”

“He told you that?” Norwich was not pleased.

“To be fair, I’ve been calling him non-stop.” She shot Norwich a look. “You weren’t returning my calls.”

“I told you I wouldn’t call until I had something to tell you. We had to wait for the state patrol.”

Creed noticed she didn’t mention the mobile crime lab.

In the meantime, he was patiently waiting for an answer. He’d had enough breakfast. He didn’t need any more coffee. If he was going back to that abandoned property for another search, he wanted to finish early enough that he and Grace could head home before nightfall.

“Any of Kyle’s belongings,” he prodded her. “A backpack? A piece of clothing? Maybe an old T-shirt or sweatshirt? Anything?”

This time she sat back and gave it some serious thought. “The last time he was in my car, we went to his cousin Richie’s basketball game in Milton. But that was almost three weeks ago.”

He glanced at Norwich. He could tell she wasn’t happy with him making the offer. But Kyle might still be out there. Maybe buried in another debris pile. For sixteen years, Creed would have given anything to find Brodie, convincing himself that an explanation or even a body would be better than not knowing at all. Finding a loved one, even if he was dead, could allow a family to move on.

He was ready to excuse himself and leave when Lydia suddenly asked, “Would a ball cap work? I think he left his old, sweaty one on my back seat.”

26

David City, Nebraska

From across the street, Sara could see that the small café looked crowded. She hated crowds, but it was perfect timing. She’d finished her convenience store breakfast burrito from the warmer case. She’d taken her time with it, especially since she wasn’t used to eating finger food with her transparent fingerprint covers. So far, they were less noticeable than super glue and easier to remove. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure if hot sauce messed with their effectiveness.

Too late to worry about it now.

She was anxious with too much time on her hands. And the store was way too busy for her comfort level. She wished she hadn’t parked her truck so far out on the outskirts of town. The vehicle had become her only constant. It was her sanctuary as much as her escape. Without it, she felt vulnerable. Exposed. Like she was missing her outer, protective shield.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a man and a woman getting out of a black SUV. Neither was a local. Sara could tell immediately. Though both were pretending they were. Their glances around were casual but took too long. Especially the man. He was a cop of some sort. The shaved head. The walk. The way he waited for the woman and walked alongside her. They weren’t a couple. Most likely, they were colleagues. Definitely out-of-towners. Sara noticed the woman’s boots. They were ones she’d choose. Trendy, comfortable and easy to run in, but they still looked good with jeans. She briefly wondered if any of that was this woman’s criteria, too? Especially the easy to run in.

And then Sara remembered. Of course, they were here for Iris’ hearing.

She watched them until they turned a corner at the end of the block. Then they were out of sight. Sara glanced back at the entrance to the café. Maybe today wasn’t a good day. And yet, all her planning. Even the weather had participated.

It had to be today. She couldn’t let Orlando beat her again.

The thought of him made her search the street. Her eyes stopped on each vehicle until she reminded herself that he wouldn’t just pull up to the café. This was all too public for him. In a town this small, people would notice him. He certainly didn’t blend in. Not like Sara.

No, he’d be waiting somewhere in the dark. And he’d do the one thing nobody expected, just to make things interesting. Like dump a body in a public recreational park. He never played by anyone’s rules. He’d make up his own.

And yet, Iris trusted him. Trusted him enough to hand over a phone number that only she was supposed to use. That burner phone was supposed to be only for her and Sara to communicate. Iris had insisted on it.

Why was Sara surprised? After all these years, after all the hard lessons. Absently, her fingers rubbed the notch on her nose as if needing a tangible reminder. Why did this still feel like a betrayal? Hadn’t the woman always been pulling the rug out from under Sara the whole time she was telling Sara she was only looking out for her?

How else will you learn?

Sara hated that line.

Now she wondered what else Orlando knew. What else had Iris told him that she hadn’t shared with Sara? Instead of what was presented as an assignment split in two, was Iris making it a contest with secrets and bonuses? Were there other things that Iris had shared with Orlando that she was keeping from Sara?

She tossed her energy drink’s can and the burrito’s foil wrapper then pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt. On her way out the door, she picked up one of the flyers advertising that week’s events and specials in town.

It took only a few extra minutes for her spontaneous detour. She didn’t give it much thought.