Page 76 of Chasing Creed

He told her about someone watching Brodie. What Sully had found. That the cigarettes were not sold in the United States, and Sully’s suspicions.

“Do you think it’s possible someone followed Jason and Brodie from Mississippi?” he asked.

“Anything’s possible. Wait a minute. Those photos you texted me of the drone. If I’m not mistaken, there were a bunch of cigarette butts on the ground.” As soon as she said it, she tried to backtrack. “Now, that could just be a coincidence.”

“I thought most of you law enforcement people don’t believe in coincidences?”

“Most of us old-timers don’t. You got that right. I’ll ask Alvin if he can have someone check it out. Maybe they found other cigarette butts. I have a feeling he’d be interested in knowing if that property is being used by a drug cartel.”

“Are you back home yet?” Creed asked.

“I was packing up and having a cup of coffee when you and Grace left the parking lot.”

He laughed. “So, you didn’t get much sleep either.”

“No, but it sure felt good to have a hot shower. Listen, Ryder, I really do appreciate what you did for this case. For me. For Lydia and Kyle. If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have ever found that boy. I hate to think about it, but we might have never even found his body.”

“It was Grace we should all thank.”

“I hope she’s getting some rest and whatever big treat she’s allowed. You two take care. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thanks.”

What he didn’t tell Norwich was that he should have paid attention early on. If he had watched and listened to Grace the first time they went through the woods—even before Sheriff Daniels showed them the bloody vehicle—it would have saved a lot of time and pain. Because he remembered her poking in that direction. Pulling him, trying to tug him to take that turn.

And instead of listening to his dog, he simply followed Daniels to exactly where the man had wanted them to start their search.

52

Elkhorn, Nebraska

Maggie felt defeated. They had come up empty-handed in their search for the waitress named Rachel Collins. She seemed to have completely disappeared after her last night shift at the Village Café. On the video surveillance, Maggie and Pakula watched her get into her car then drive away, never to be seen again.

Pakula had already issued a BOLO (Be On the Lookout) and an ATL (Attempt to Locate) for a missing person who might be a victim. He also told his people he wanted to be notified immediately if a woman’s body was found, especially one dumped in a lake or river.

Now, the two of them returned to Maximo’s Cantina in Elkhorn. Christin greeted them at the door with a raised eyebrow and a smile. “Two days in a row? It’s either my delightful charm or the margarita special.” She led them to the same table in the corner.

“Does Max have anything stronger back there than margaritas?” Pakula asked as he dropped into a chair that backed against the wall. Maggie took one that backed against the window. It was snowing again, and right now, she didn’t want to see any of it.

“Stronger. Are you thinking something like a shot of tequila?”

“No. Scotch or whiskey.”

“Neat or on the rocks?”

Pakula looked over at Maggie. She was pulling her notebook and files from her messenger bag. With only a glance, she said, “Neat.”

“Two, please. And a plate of those nachos.”

“You got it.”

It was too early for dinner. The place was almost empty.

“Whiskey and nachos?” Maggie asked as she checked her text messages. Alonzo had sent her a couple of emails, but warned the information was not “earth-shattering.”

“I’ve been dreaming about those nachos all day.” Pakula started patting down pocket after pocket then finally dragged out a pair of glasses.

“Hey, are those prescription eyeglasses?” she asked, suddenly thinking about Eleanor Dunn.