Among the Missing Read Online Free PDF Page B

explained. "They were planning on a canoe trip to the lake. When they got down here, they saw the body. It was where it is right now. But it wasn't alone. An adult male was in the sand beside the body, apparently asleep. About thirty years old, five-eleven, a hundred and sixty pounds, bald."
    "Bald?" Pac asked.
    "He sounds a lot like you."
    "I'm not . . . Rusty!"
    "Sorry," he said, grinning. "Couldn't help it."
    Pac glanced around. She saw nobody. So she slugged Rusty in the upper arm.
    He grimaced.
    "Sorry," Pac said. "Couldn't help it. So, what was this guy wearing?"
    Rusty rubbed his arm, then glanced at his notebook. "Blue jeans, no shirt, no shoes."
    "Did Bass and Faye get a look at his face?"
    "Just for a moment, apparently. Faye might not've even seen that much. The way Bass tells it, the guy had his back to them most of the time. And Faye freaked out when she saw that the gal was short a head. We'll have to talk to her and get the details, but it sounds like she tried to see as little as possible."
    "She's a pretty squeamish girl," Pac said.
    "Well, I might get squeamish myself if I saw a fellow go running off with somebody's head."
    "He took it?"
    "Bass said he ran into the river with it and swam to the other side. Apparently, he wanted to take it home as a souvenir, or something."
    "Maybe he'll have it stuffed and mounted," Pac said. Then she switched her camera on. "Guess I'd better get this show on the road."
    Nodding, Rusty said, "Make sure you get some good close-ups of the neck. And take shots of the tracks that go over to the river, too. They aren't much, but you never know. We'll get Jack down here with a rake. Maybe we can come up with the saw or whatever our bad guy used. And the clothes. Doesn't look like there're clothes around here anywhere. I can't imagine the gal walked all the way down from the parking lot bare-ass naked."
    "Doesn't seem too likely."
    "Of course, she might've had no say in it."
    "Might've already been dead," Pac suggested.
    "Could be, could be." Rusty nodded, frowning. Then he said, "When you get finished down here, go on up and take care of the Jaguar. The gal might've come out here alone, but I doubt it. If we're going to come up with any latents, they'll probably be on the car."
    "Or the saw."
    "If we find it," Rusty said. "Now, I'm going to have myself a look on the other side of the river." He tossed away his cigar. "You stay here."
    "How're you going to get over there?"
    "Swim, of course." He grinned. Then he walked to the shore, staying well to the left of the shallow indentations in the sand he'd asked Pac to photograph. Near the water's edge, he took off his shirt.
    His back was tanned and freckled. He looked like a heavier, more powerful version of Harney.
    He set his folded shirt in the sand, unstrapped his gun belt, and put it down on the shirt.
    "You're going unarmed?" Pac asked.
    "You're not supposed to be watching me, young lady. The sight of my pulchritude's likely to stir you up and get us both in trouble."
    She laughed.
    "Go on and take your pictures."
    She waited until Rusty had stripped down to his boxer shorts, then snapped one.
    He spun around, his face redder than usual.
    "For the family scrapbook," she explained.
    "You're a terrible woman, Mary."
    "I know, I know."
    "No wonder my kid fell for you."
    Turning away from her, he waded into the river.
    Pac watched him trudge out. When the water was nearly waist deep, he dived. Then he swam to the other side and climbed onto the bank, his shorts low and clinging. Standing on dry land, he hitched the shorts up. Then he glanced over his shoulder.
    Pac, grinning, showed him a thumbs-up.
    He returned the gesture.
    After Rusty had disappeared into the trees, Pac began taking photos of the crime scene. The area photos went well. She took more than necessary, postponing the time when she would need to do detail shots of the body.
    But that time came. She took the photos slowly, carefully. When the roll of film was used up,