Stolen Lives : The Lives Trilogy Book 1 Read Online Free PDF Page A

I’d like two horses, one for the boy and one for me,” Kelliher added.
    The officer started to say something like, “No Problem,” but Pete had already shut the cell phone off.
    “What are you thinking?” Summer asked, turning towards the backseat to look at him.
    Her short, natural blond hair looked as though it had been combed with an eggbeater.  Her gray-green eyes had dark circles, and Pete wondered when she had last had a good meal.
    “If this kid can ID these guys, we’ve caught a break. A big break.”
    “You still believe its child trafficking?” she asked knowing his answer before he said it, knowing it because they had discussed it over and over again.
    “At least a dozen kids found murdered the same way . . . two shots to the back of the head from a .38, each kid missing at least a year, three missing more than two years.  Each kid eleven or twelve at the time of the abduction. Yeah, it smells like it.”
    “Why not just three perverts picking up kids and getting rid of ‘em?” the dark-haired driver asked.
    Pete leaned forward between the two front seats and said, “Because other than the death scene, the boys were different.  Three kids had brands . . . an upside down cross on the inside of the left ankle.  The same three had scars on their backs as if they had been beaten with a whip.”
    He paused, sat back and looked out the window and then said more to himself than to the driver, “If there were only three guys picking up kids, all the kids would have the same.”  Perhaps feeling hope because the cased finally shifted to their favor for once, Pete slapped the report across his knee and said, “We don’t know what else it could be.”
    Summer bit her lip, worried that he might be right.  Actually, knew he was right.  But three perverts snatching kids were hard to find.  A bunch of assholes taking and using kids would be even harder to find, unless they got a big, big break.  She wondered if this Indian boy might be the break they needed.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    The car pulled up in a cloud of reddish dust.  The three of them sat in the car until it had settled and until they could actually see out the windows again.  The problem was that when it settled, it covered the windows in a fine sheen. 
    Three Tribal Policemen were gathered around a patrol car.  One officer sat on the hood with the other two leaning against the front bumper.  Two of the three chewed gum, while the other spat brown tobacco juice over the side of the car away from the crime scene. 
    Pete opened the door and whatever cool air there was inside the car vanished in seconds.  Air, the consistency of oatmeal was hard to breathe.  In fact the heat seemed to suck all the air out of his lungs.  A freakin’ furnace , he thought.  Fuck dry heat!  
    He pulled his tie off and threw it along with his sport coat in the backseat.  He tucked the manila folder containing the crime report under his arm, while he rolled up first one sleeve and then the other. 
    Summer threw her suit jacket on the front seat and surveyed the scene with her hands on her hips.  The county ME knelt down beside the body of the boy.  An agent snapped photos of foot prints and tire treads.  Little yellow plastic tent tags with large black numbers sat alongside the stakes set up by the Indian boy.  A couple of agents stood around not doing much of anything.  In fact, they didn’t even bother to try to look like they weren’t doing anything.
    Pete squatted down at the first stake and studied the tire tracks left by the van, marveling at how thorough the kid was.  From a distance, the kid looked older than fourteen and not all that remarkable.  A dirty white, beat up straw cowboy hat sat on his head.  He had his arms folded over his chest, bare except for a leather vest and some sort of necklace around his neck.  Medium height, maybe on the taller side, but Pete couldn’t tell because he didn’t know kids that well, at least, ones who