Free Sneaking Suspicions (The Tharon Trace Mysteries Book 1) by Jan Hinds Page B

Who was the first one out of the van?”
    Marty grumbled, “It was me and Carl.  But those kids had to be forty or fifty feet up in a tree way up on the hill.  Who the hell expects to find kids up in a tree like that in freezing cold weather?  It isn’t natural.”  His voice dropped its usual scorn. “You can tell the boss not to worry.  Those kids won’t be talking to no one.  Are you taking the girl now?”
    “Don’t be stupid.  You’re going to have to keep them under wraps until the heat dies down a bit.  Might be a good idea to keep them alive for a few days, then kill the boys and dump them a couple hundred miles from here—maybe down on the Ohio River.  That should take the pressure off the search here enough to smuggle her out to a secure government holding facility.”
    Kaid and Helm each squeezed Tharon’s shoulder even tighter.  She trembled and they inched closer to her.
    The outer door creaked open wider and Burt said, “Who’s going to kill the boys?”
    Marty’s cackle sent chills down Tharon’s spine.  “I’ll take care of that.  You don’t have to hog all the fun.”
    Burt’s voice moved back into the hall. “I think your brother ain’t the only one in your family with a fetish.”
    Marty snarled. “I don’t know if it’s a fetish, but I got no qualms about nothing—no qualms at all.”
    The officer’s voice faded into the hallway, “I’ll report that you’re taking responsibility then, Marty.”
    Marty’s frightening chuckle faded as well.  “I got no problem with that, no problem at all.”
    The heavy door closed with a loud thud as the locks clicked into place.  Goosebumps prickled Tharon’s arms and she broke out in a cold sweat.  She whispered, “We’ve got to get out of here.  Now.”

 
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 6
     
     
    Maisy pressed and folded the bread dough on the counter in Lista’s kitchen.  She didn’t expect anyone to eat it but she had to do something with her hands to keep hysteria at bay.  The thought of sweet little Tharon in the hands of killers tore her heart to pieces.  She brushed a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand, leaving a smudge of flour in its wake, and punched the dough hard, wishing it was the kidnapper’s face.
    The front doorbell chimed.  She heard Angela answer the door and a deep familiar voice from the foyer broke Maisy’s rhythm and concentration.  She strained to hear; when that didn’t work, she silently tiptoed into the hallway and stood in the shadows of the dining room near the half wall behind the sofa.
    Maisy saw Angela close the door behind Max Stephens, who stood at the edge of the foyer.
    It had been a long time since Maisy had seen Max close up.  His clothes were at least two sizes too big; the end of his belt had been trimmed and was fastened two inches past the regular holes; his pants were wet to above his knees.  With his hat in his hands, he glanced down at the polished wood floors like a little boy waiting to be scolded for tracking mud into the house.
    “Do you have a recent picture of Tharon we can put out with the Amber Alert?  We’ve already collected pictures of the two boys from their parents.”
    Maisy sensed Lista’s fragile emotional state.  She slipped around the corner as Lista gulped for air.
    Maisy’s heart broke to see the panic and pleading in Lista’s eyes when she looked at her.
    Max stepped further into the living room, perplexed by Lista’s reticence.  When he spoke his voice became softer, more patient.  “It’s vital that we get pictures of the children circulated immediately.  The more people who see their pictures, the greater chance we’ll have of finding and rescuing them.”
    Maisy rounded the half wall and sat on the sofa facing Lista, but angled her back to Max.  She knotted her hands in her lap and when Lista locked eyes with her again, Maisy nodded to reassure her and smiled a bleak smile.
    Lista perched on the edge of the oversized red