The Shadow's Edge Read Free Page A

specified.
                  I pulled up behind it and went quickly to the  driver’s side door, hoping to find Callie hunkered down and napping contentedly on the bench seat.
                  No such luck, of course. The cab was empty.

 
     
     
     
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                  The pickup was parked in a natural pullover area about five hundred yards past the long turnoff into the old Crandall farm. It struck me as an odd location. If Callie had decided for some reason to walk to the farmhouse she had left herself a long hike back to it for no apparent reason. But the only other farm in sight was at least as far away so it seemed that she had done the unlikely.
                  Mystified that she would choose to visit this place I wasn’t yet particularly distressed over the fact.
                  My knock at the door was answered by a disheveled looking young woman in her twenties holding a baby in one arm. Another child, a girl about three years old, stood beside her. “Hello,” the woman said pleasantly. “Can I help you?”
                  “Sorry to bother you,” I responded. “I’m looking for my wife. I see her pickup is parked just up the road a bit.” I pointed in the truck’s general direction. “I assumed she must have stopped here for some reason.”
                  The woman’s eyes went wide in wonder as she peered in the direction I had indicated. “No,” she said. “I’m sorry, she didn’t stop in here. I haven’t seen anyone all day.”
                  The only other possibility now appeared to be that Callie had been picked up by someone. But why on earth would she choose this location to meet? And what possible explanation could there be for her leaving her vehicle way out here?
                  “I wonder if I could ask a favor of you, ma’am?” I said.
                  “Yes?” I could tell by the look on her face that she was hoping I wasn’t going to ask to be allowed entry. Way out here, on her own with two little kids, she would be understandably reluctant to allow a complete stranger into her home.
                  “If I left you a phone number, could you phone and let us know if you happen to notice anyone come back for that truck?”
                  “Sure,” she said, relieved. “I could do that.”
                  “Thank you.”
                  I dug a small notepad and pencil from my shirt pocket and scratched out a note for her. When she saw Miles’ name she looked at me questioningly. “Is this Miles and Betty Wilson’s number?” she asked.
                  “Yes, ma’am.”
                  “So, it’s Callie you’re looking for?”
                  “Yes, again,” I answered.
                  “Then … you’re Jack Parmenter.” When she completed the statement her voice was very low, like she was suddenly aware she was in the presence of someone very dangerous.
                  “I’m Callie’s husband,” I confirmed.
                  I half expected her to slam the door on me and throw the bolt for safe measure but she surprised me by saying, “I’m very sorry for all the pain and heartache you’ve experienced in your life, Mr. Parmenter. I know there are those who would never forgive what you did but, being a mother of young children, I think I can understand how someone could be driven to … well, you know.”
                  “I appreciate your kindness,” I said, lingering through an uncomfortable silence. “Well, I’ll be going now.”
                  “Goodbye,” she said. She stood in the doorway