The Fourth Victim Read Online Free PDF Page B

surprised. The woman was thorough. The kind of agent he liked to have on his team.
    â€œThere’s been no report of any ransom call. Have you checked her home phone?” he asked.
    â€œYes, and we had it forwarded over here.”
    â€œI’ll get someone to put a tap on the line, just in case.” Sam nodded.
    â€œWhat about her mood?” He looked over at Maggie. “Did she seem upset about anything?”
    â€œNo. Just…maybe…” The child looked down.
    â€œMaybe what?”
    â€œI think she worries about me.” The girl looked up at him. “But I swear I’m not doing anything wrong. I had nothing to do with this.”
    Until that second Clay hadn’t thought she had.
    â€œAnyone else you can think of who’d want Ms. Chapman out of the way?” he asked the two adults sitting across from him, anxious to get back to JoAnne. To find out what was in the Chapman files.
    Maggie Winston’s in particular.
    â€œNo.” Samantha shook her head. “Like I told you, she’s the one everyone goes to for help.”
    Great. He had a possible missing saint who ate pencils.
    And pissed off criminals for a living.
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    Clay got a call from Barry before he’d even started his department-issue black sedan. “We’ve got something,” the agent said, his voice terse.
    â€œWhat?” Sitting on the drive on the Evans farm, Clay stared at barns and fields, but imagined a path paved with black asphalt, preparing for the worst.
    â€œWillie caught her scent at the parking lot Detective Jones reported as the one Dr. Chapman used most frequently. He followed it a good ways up the path—maybea ten-minute skate depending on how fast she was going.” Willie had been with the agency a couple of years. He was the best. “And?”
    â€œThen nothing.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, nothing?”
    â€œShe just disappeared, boss. One minute Willie’s on her and then he loses the scent.”
    â€œChapman turned around and went back to her car.”
    â€œMaybe, but why go all the way out there and just skate for a few minutes?”
    She could have remembered something she had to do. Or found the day too cold for skating. The could-haves were innumerable. But the fact that she was missing made the short skating time suspect.
    â€œI assume Willie checked the path going from the car in the opposite direction?”
    â€œYeah. He didn’t find anything.”
    They had to come up with that car. Period.
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    Without putting down his cell after disconnecting with Barry, Clay speed-dialed JoAnne.
    â€œDid you get anything out of the receptionist?”
    â€œBesides the fact that our missing person can’t be without a pen or pencil?”
    â€œYeah, besides that.”
    â€œDeb seems truly fond of her boss—and had no problem taking me to the office and turning over Chapman’s files. Deb thinks there could be a lot of possible suspects there.”
    â€œSo you’ve got the files?”
    â€œI’m on my way home with them now.”
    â€œGreat bedtime reading.”
    â€œLooking at the crates in my backseat, I have a feeling I’m not going to be getting any sleep tonight.”
    Clay knew that feeling all too well.
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    Kelly Chapman’s credit cards were not used on Friday. Her Blue Dodge Nitro turned up in Knoxville, Tennessee, Friday night. Clay was at home, in sweats and no shirt, having just padded in from a shower. He was sitting at his kitchen table, poring through electronic phone records, credit card receipts and bank statements when he got the call from the Tennessee state police at around ten.
    Knoxville—five hours away.
    â€œIt was left in a mall parking lot.”
    â€œAny obvious indicators?” He ran his hand through hair that probably should’ve been cut weeks ago. But that would probably wait weeks more.
    â€œIt’s in good shape. No obvious dents or