Countdown to Danger. Jill Elizabeth Nelson
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He left Lynley cuddling the cat and took the stairs to the upper hallway, where he could get a better perspective of the hillside to the east. Something caught his attention—movement below, near the creek, too far away to get a good look, or even to tell if it was male or female, only that the figure was an adult.
Before he could turn to hunt down Kirstie’s binoculars to get a better look at the figure, several people came running out of the center up on the hillside above the house, and he saw a child tripping around the winter leaves, far above the mystery person.
He called Gerard once more, feeling overly dependent as he did so.
“Sorry, John,” Gerard said when he answered. “We had us a little emergency.” There were chattering voices, a crying child, shouting in the background.
“Let me guess. A child hunt?”
“You’ve been watching. Yep, one of the little ones wandered outside, and his parents couldn’t find him for a few minutes. He’s probably not going to do that again. Gave us a fright, though, especially me, in light of your own little scare.”
For a moment, John pondered that. “Got a question for you, but don’t take offense.” With as few words as possible, John filled Gerard in on the situation, then said, “You don’t think anyone from your center could—”
“You’re wondering if your culprit might be someone from here.”
“It crossed my mind. I’m looking for any and all answers at this point.”
“I’ve considered it. I’m not omniscient, John. No matter how many background checks I give these people before we bring them here, it’s always possible someone could slip through. When I convinced the town council to let us set up shop here, I gave my word that no harm would come to the town because of it. I’ll do anything to keep that promise.”
“That child wouldn’t have chanced to spot someone else in the woods, do you think?”
“Why? Did you see someone else?”
“Sure did.”
“Hold on, let me ask.”
John waited while he heard a conflagration of voices in the background. Most of the homeless people who came to the rehab center were city folk, and they didn’t realize that the woods in Missouri were much safer than most city streets.
Gerard spoke again. “Poor kid was lost and was looking for our building. He wasn’t paying attention.”
“Out of curiosity, am I the only person in Jolly Mill who didn’t know about the inheritance until Lynley told me a few minutes ago?”
“Probably, but that’s not surprising.” The noise in the background suddenly disappeared, and a door shut. Gerard had stepped outside. “Here in our town, most folks still see honor in police authority, so gossiping to you would be kind of like gossiping to a preacher. They’d be ashamed. But sharing tantalizing information with the folks here at the center just means they’re being accepted by some of the townsfolk. Kind of encouraging, actually.”
“So you’re saying everyone up at the center knew about Kirstie’s supposed inheritance.”
“I know some of them do, some of those who’ve been around longer, but they also know that her money was given to us to help them, and she’s treated like a queen around here. That’s one reason I don’t think we need to worry about our people.”
“Unless some of them believe she still has money. Before you come down, would you have your staff start asking the residents if any of them saw someone outside Kirstie’s house earlier this morning?”
“You don’t want to keep this thing quiet, then.”
“At first I thought it would be a good idea, but something I said to Lynley got me to thinking. We’re going to have to ask questions, anyway, and you know word’s going to spread quickly. Why not use that to our advantage?”
“You’re a good man, John Russell. I don’t care what everyone else says about you.”
John rolled his eyes. “Thanks. You’re a real pal.”
“We can’t keep a sneeze secret around here, anyway, so why not put all that extra hot air to good use?”
“Is Kirstie with you now?”
“She’s just inside, helping corral the others and putting some finishing touches on food prep.”
“Does she know her daughter needs her?”
“Not yet. We’ll be down as soon as I task Megan with the questioning.”
“Then let me warn you, Lynley intends to work her two shifts at the hospital this week.”
Gerard grunted. “Not good.”
“Where are you now?”
“I’m getting ready to grab Kirstie and get her home.”
John waited and listened as Gerard Vance reentered a noisy room—the kitchen, from the sound of it, the talk and chatter of rehab residents—and heard Vance’s soothing voice as he asked Kirstie to follow him. To her credit, she didn’t ask a single question.
“You got it, boss. I don’t like battering chicken, anyway. Just let me wash my hands.”
John couldn’t help smiling when he heard Kirstie Marshall’s voice in the background. Lynley’s mother had the light laughter of a happy teen, and though her life had been filled with hard knocks, she looked forward to the future, and seldom grieved the past.
“She’s washing up,” Vance told John. “We’ll be there in five unless another child wanders off.”
“You’re parked in the garage?”
“Sure. Don’t worry, I’ll get her into the truck without going outside, and I’ll lock the doors. This one’s got you worried, my friend.”
“And Lynley.”
“Yep.” Vance cleared his throat. “You do know how...um...strong-willed Lynley is.”
“I’ve had time to figure that out.”
“You can’t let her run this investigation.”
“No, and I’ll do what it takes to keep her from working those shifts this week. They’re back-to-back, and so she’d be staying in her apartment in Springfield to avoid the hour-long drive each way.”
“Not good. Do what you can.”
John powered off and glanced around the deck, then peered into the forest to the east of the house. No one lingered down below now. As Lynley said, someone could be watching from anywhere, but he didn’t get the feeling of being watched. Not that he was going to place Lynley’s safety into the fettered hands of emotion.
He heard a soft rumble, and realized Lynley had slid open the glass door below him. Data darted outside, his