Abduction Read Online Free PDF

We’re going all out on this one. Find the girl.”
    The department
had formed a special task force led by JJ that included three other detectives
and a couple of gophers. They took up residence in a small conference room off
the main bullpen. Somehow JJ managed to fit two desks, a conference table, a
computer, and a coffeemaker in the room before running out of space.
    Anything
you need, Johnson, just ask.
    What he needed
was more manpower and a larger space in which to work. He tripped over himself
nearly every time he came in the room.
    Marsha, one of
the second floor’s shared secretaries, appeared in the doorway. “Harris wants
to see you.”
    JJ lurched out
of his chair with the usual dread. Harris wasn’t a bad guy. Just a pain to deal
with.
    “Yes, sir?” JJ
asked as he stepped inside the chief’s office.
    Harris
explained and handed JJ a slip of paper.
    Stunned, he
stared hard at Harris. “You can’t be serious!”
    “I am quite
serious.”
    “Sir, with all
due respect, have you lost your mind? This is a police station, not a
carnival.”
    Harris glared. “You’ll do it, Johnson, or you’ll
turn in your badge.”
     
     
     

 
     
     
    chapter
4
     
     
    Wednesday, April 12
     
     
    Z oe
pulled her suitcase out of the car trunk. She could still hear the questions
ringing in her ears now six and a half hours later.
    “Tell me,
Miss Shefford, how did you know the girl was dead?”
    “Miss
Shefford! Miss Shefford! How was she killed?”
    “Miss
Shefford! Can you tell us what shape she was in?”
    Walking
briskly to her front door, she pulled the suitcase behind her, wheels squeaking
across the brick as she tried to forget the reporters, the questions, the
publicity.
    And that
police chief! He’d all but manhandled her to stand there in front of the
cameras while he went on and on about what a fantastic job she’d done.
    Right.
    She’d done
what she always did. Refused to answer their questions, turned their attention
to the police, and caught the first flight home.
    Home.
    Zoe wrinkled
her nose as she stepped through the door of her townhouse. She had forgotten to
take out the trash. After six days away, the house smelled a little ripe.
    Leaving her
suitcase by the door, she headed for the kitchen, opening windows as she went
along. She tossed the mail on the kitchen table and immediately opened the back
door, setting the trash can on the deck.
    The
refrigerator didn’t offer much hope of a meal. She hadn’t bothered to shop
before leaving. Then again, she hadn’t expected to rush out at 4:00 a.m. to catch a plane to Grafton, West
Virginia.
    The orange
juice didn’t look promising. A week beyond the expiration date, the milk didn’t
smell too fresh. And the iced tea was cloudy. Zoe did find a can of root beer
behind the butter and was more than happy to settle for that.
    She turned on
the radio and sorted the mail. Bills in one stack, junk mail in another, and
anything that looked interesting enough to open in the final stack. Junk mail
went out the back door and into the trash can. She tossed bills in the basket
on the counter.
    When the DJ
started reading the news headlines, Zoe kicked off her shoes and wiggled her
toes. She was preparing to head upstairs to unpack her suitcase when she heard
the kind of news she always dreaded.
    The lead story
reached Zoe’s ears as news bites: Another missing child—an infant; no leads yet;
disappeared from her crib; parents pleading for safe return; second
missing-child case in less than two weeks; police form special task force.
    Zoe sagged
against the doorframe. Too many missing children and too many parents pleading
with tear-streaked eyes and soul-wrenching sobs for a safe return. Too few
parents getting their wish. Zoe knew the
numbers all too well: nearly sixty thousand nonfam ily abductions each
year. More than a hundred missing children found murdered. Many more never
found.
    How well she
understood the parents’ pain.
    She heard the phone ring