The Shadow's Edge Read Free Page B

and watched as I climbed back in the Chevette. She waived shyly when I pulled away.
                  When I drove back out onto Thornhill Road I pulled up behind the pickup again. I got out and had another look around. Beside the fact that Callie had come out here and apparently decided to abandon her vehicle, two things struck me as odd. First, the keys were in the ignition. And second, there was some loose dirt on the road a couple of feet from the pickup’s driver’s side door. These facts did not necessarily mean much but it did cross my mind that leaving the keys behind might be consistent with someone leaving their vehicle in haste. As in an abduction.
                  I opened the door and slid in behind the wheel, putting the seat back a few inches to accommodate my height. I looked around to see if there was a note of any kind but found nothing. I started the motor and checked the gas gauge. She didn’t appear to have had engine trouble.
                  I didn’t feel right about leaving the vehicle unprotected this way but neither did I want to make it impossible for Callie to gain access if she returned. So I scratched out another note, telling her I had the keys and she should go to the old Crandall place and phone Miles’ number. We’d come right out and get her. I folded the note and put it on the little lip in front of the speedometer where she’d be sure to see it once she got in.
                  I drove back to town and pulled up at the diner. To the left of the entryway there was a public telephone that I used to call Miles. I asked if there had been any word on Callie. He told me there hadn’t been. I filled him in on what I had found and then said I was going to report her as missing to the local police. Miles told me the chief’s name was Kyle Jessup and I got the feeling by the way he said his name that Miles didn’t have any great respect for the man. When I hung up I went into the diner and found Kat relaxing in one of the booths, thumbing idly through a fashion magazine. There was nobody else in the place at the moment, the lunch crowd having just evacuated. I handed her the keys to her car along with two twenties. “Sorry I didn’t have time to fill it up for you,” I said.
                  “That’s okay,” she replied. “You want a coffee?”
                  “I can’t,” I said. “I’ve got to go have a talk with Chief Jessup.”
                  “You in some trouble?” she asked.
                  “Don’t have time to talk right now,” I said. “Thanks for the loan of the car.” I left quickly, walked across the street, and took a left to where the Colville Police Department occupied an unimpressive building at the end of the block.
                  A reception desk sat unattended. I found Jessup alone in a small office in the corner, tilted back in his chair with his booted feet propped up on the desk. There was a placard on the desk identifying him by name and title. It was hard to judge his age; he could have been anywhere from forty-five to sixty. His salt and pepper hair was thick and wavy and his face was heavily pock-marked, turning what would have been handsome features into something more along the lines of sinister. He made no move to adopt a more professional pose when I entered. “Help you?” he muttered. He drew heavily on an unfiltered cigarette and blew the smoke toward the ceiling.
                  “I’m here to report a missing person,” I said as respectfully as I could given the circumstances.
                  “And who might be missing?” he said in a dismissive tone, like he could not give a monkey’s hairy ass what the answer might be.
                  “Callie Parmenter,” I said. “I’m her husband. Name’s---”
                  “Well, as I live and breathe,” he interrupted me.