Free Gone From Me: Hearts of the South, Book 10 by Linda Winfree Page B

remember what time that was?”
    “Around six thirty. Today in Georgia was about half over. I heard it again when he came in around lunchtime, but nothing in between.”
    “All right.” Rob extended his card. “If you think of anything, even if it seems minor, please give me a call.”
    She examined the card, turned with a harrumph and walked inside.
    “Well.” Rueful humor colored the word as Rob joined her at the bottom of the steps. “That was fruitful.”
    They strode across the road. Rob spun his wedding band, a sure sign he was thinking hard. “Zeke Jenkins has what looks like fresh scratches on his neck.”
    “I saw them when the crime-scene guys were swabbing his hands.” Amy tucked her hands in her back pockets. Behind her sunglasses, she squinted at the scene. Two more Chandler County units had joined those already parked along the drive. Beyond the trailer, figures moved in the field in a painstaking cross-search.
    “His story feels legit, though. He doesn’t deny they argued, and everything he says squares with Troy Lee’s version. Plus, he’s consistent. Doesn’t matter what I ask or how I ask it, his story never changes. Do you know how rare that is?” Rob gestured toward the fields where Zeke had joined the searchers, although it appeared Tick Calvert had been careful to keep the young man separate from Brittany’s parents. “And he’s worried about the baby.”
    Amy darted a look at him. “What makes you say that?”
    “He had real fear in his eyes once he figured out that Brittany wasn’t with any of her friends and that meant not only was she gone, but so was his little girl. He’s not our guy.” The gold band made another circle around Rob’s finger. “He might not be the best husband in the world, but I can’t see him putting that baby at risk, either.”
    “Last time I checked, being a bad husband wasn’t a crime.”
    “Good thing. You could have Calvert put me under the jail.”
    “Rob.” She reached out to catch his arm and drew him to a stop. He looked down at her, his green gaze troubled. “You have never been a bad husband. We’re just in a rough spot right now.”
    “Hey, lovebirds.” Madeline approached, tablet in hand. Cheeks warm, Amy let her hand fall from his arm. “Zeke’s story seems to check out with the cell-phone pings. His has been bouncing off the closest tower all morning, so apparently he’s been in the vicinity, which fits with him working the fields.”
    “And the neighbor says she heard him leave around six thirty and then come home at lunch.”
    Madeline nodded. “Britt’s, of course, quit pinging this morning around eight thirty. I’m still trying to get the provider to send me their text and call records.”
    “That can take days.” Amy feathered her bangs away from her face, the ends sticking to her skin. Any early-morning coolness was long gone, and the sun burned down.
    Madeline tilted her chin at Rob. “What next, hotshot? You’re in charge.”
    “That’s an easy one. Rule of twenty-fours. Trace her steps, interview the last people she had contact with, which means we start with the friends.”
    * * * * *
    “All right, I admit it.” Montgomery’s lazy voice shivered over him, and Blake smiled and let out a couple more inches of line. Sunlight sparkled across the brown river water, and the scent of bedding fish hung heavy in the humid air. A slight breeze moved through the woods lining the river, setting gray moss to dancing. “This really isn’t that bad.”
    “Told you fishing could be fun.” Not that she was really fishing. She lounged in the folding chair, rod and reel propped between her elbow and knee. But they had the afternoon free, she was with him even after the debacle of the night before, and that was reason enough to smile. He tugged the lure to the left. “I’m sorry about last night.”
    “You’ve said that about thirty million times, and I’ve told you, thirty million and one now, it’s okay.” She