Missing with Bonus Material: The Secrets of Crittenden County, Book One Read Free Page A

seedlings are over here. I’ll show you.”
    And so it began. Another day of pretending that nothing was wrong.
    Even though Perry was gone forever.
    L uke Reynolds knew it did no good to continually blame the pair of teens whose shenanigans had injured his leg. During all his years on the police force, he’d never had to do much more than look like he was about to draw his weapon, and no matter how misguided, the teens had backed off—and none had ever gone on to cause so much damage in such a short amount of time. They’d stolen a Camry, led him on an eighteen-mile chase through the streets of Cincinnati, caused a four-car pileup, and then accidently shot him in the leg.
    But it didn’t help to hold a grudge.
    He was trying to rely on faith to get him through this hard stretch. He believed that everything happened for a reason—even the difficult, painful things. It wasn’t the Lord’s job to explain things in detail.
    And here in Kentucky, away from Renee, his on-again, off-again girlfriend, his mind felt clearer. Maybe it was breathing the humid, thick, woodsy-smelling air instead of city smog and exhaust fumes. Maybe it was the slower pace. Here in Crittenden County, no one seemed to be in much of a hurry.
    No matter what it was, he was healing, his mind was clearer, and his outlook on life was improving.
    But on a day like today, when the weather was cool, and the damp rain made the bones in his leg feel like they were breaking apart instead of fusing together, Luke was tempted to blame someone for his troubles.
    Otherwise, he was going to descend even deeper into depression.
    And that depression was the only reason he’d taken Mose’s call a week ago. That, and the fact that he genuinely liked the guy. He was plainspoken and easy to get along with, and had a great sense of humor. The darker the situation, the more morbid the guy’s jokes became. And though most people would find his quips off-putting, Luke knew the jokes were part of the territory.
    If you didn’t try to find some humor in the difficult things seen or heard while on the force, the job would be just too much.
    Like his conversation with Lydia Plank.
    The girl was as pretty as a picture and had been as wary and nervous around him as anyone he’d ever interviewed.
    Actually, she’d been so innocent-seeming, he realized that he’d forgotten that there were people out in the world who weren’t actively trying to take advantage of him or the system.
    It was really too bad she was a suspect in Perry Borntrager’s death.
    Luke had just pulled out of the greenhouse’s gravel driveway and was negotiating his way down the narrow road, past another Amish farm and a rundown, rusting single-wide, when his cell phone rang.
    “How’s it goin’, Luke?” Mose’s voice boomed in his ear.
    As he stopped for a buggy to pass in front of him, and as he thought about the mess of questions he had about the case, he chuckled softly. “It’s going.”
    “Finding your way around the county?”
    “Pretty much.”
    “You’re using my directions, not that Garmin contraption, right?”
    “I’m sticking to your directions like glue,” Luke quipped, remembering how he’d gotten lost on a long stretch of windy road with no signs for miles, the Garmin squawking “Recalculating” every ten feet. “Just got done visiting with Lydia Plank for a bit. Off to go see Walker Anderson now.”
    “That Lydia’s a sweetie, ain’t she?”
    “You know her, Mose?” She’d made it seem like they were strangers.
    “Oh, sure.” Mose’s voice turned fond as he continued on. “I remember when she was just a little thing. Back when Lydia was only four or five, why, she used to hang on to Ann’s, her momma’s, sleeve when she worked . . . why sometimes I even went to the Planks’ nursery just to get a peek of her. She had a smile that would light up the sky, she did.”
    Luke drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He was both amused and slightly disturbed