“Which means we’re down to two sets of unidentified prints in the house,” Josie said. “One of those has to be Rory’s, which leaves who?”
Noah shook his head. “I don’t know, but of the other two sets of prints, one set is found all over the house. The other set is only found on the front door and in the kitchen.”
“I’m guessing the set found all over the house is Rory’s,” Josie said.
“Right. But the other set—it could mean nothing. Maybe it was a delivery person or someone who only came over once. It could be unconnected.”
“I doubt that,” Josie said. “I don’t think Lorelei would have things delivered to her home.”
“We thought Lorelei was exceptionally private—that she had no visitors at her place—and then we found out that Pax was there regularly, and that Reed would go to get him,” Noah pointed out. “Hell, we didn’t even know about Rory until a few hours ago. We really don’t know what else Lorelei was doing out there or who else she entertained. Also, I did manage to find out Rory’s blood type from his birth records. Guess what?”
“It’s O positive. Same as the blood found on Lorelei’s truck,” Josie guessed.
“Yes.”
That put Rory right back at the top of their suspect list. Not that the list was very long to begin with.
Noah said, “When you saw him, did he look banged up at all? Have any scratches or lacerations?”
Josie shook her head. “No, but he was wearing long sleeves and pants. There was no way for me to tell. Hey, did anyone ever hear from Dr. Feist about the bloody footprints leading from the kitchen out the backdoor of the house? The barefoot prints?”
Noah nodded. “She confirmed they’re Holly’s footprints in Lorelei’s blood.”
“What about Emily?” Josie asked. “Any word on her?”
“Adam and Celeste took her. Ms. Riebe met with them and said she felt comfortable leaving Emily with them temporarily.”
“Great.”
A door slammed and the Chief appeared before them, arms crossed over his thin chest. “What the hell is this, Quinn?”
She brought him up to speed, watching as his face reddened with each word. “Gretchen’s going to need more people out in those woods,” he said. “If this kid is running around with a damn gun shooting at my detectives.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that, Chief,” Josie said. “I don’t think it was Rory who shot at me.”
Noah said, “You said you looked away from him, looked back, he was gone, and then came the shot.”
“Right,” said Josie. “But I’m not sure he could have circled me that quickly and gotten off a shot. Besides, he didn’t have a gun the whole time I saw him. Not in the house and not while I was chasing him.”
The Chief said, “What if he hid it out in the woods? Maybe that’s why he stopped at that spot. You thought he was catching his breath, but maybe he was getting you close enough so he could grab the gun and take a shot.”
Josie pictured the scene again in her mind. She tried to calculate how long it was between the time she looked back at the tree to discover that Rory was gone and when the shot rang out. Would it have been enough time? She was already full of adrenaline at that point. Time was meaningless. Things that took only seconds would have felt like an eternity, and things that took a long time would have felt instantaneous. The only real way to tell if the Chief’s scenario was possible would be to go back out to that spot, try to figure out exactly where she was standing, as well as the bullet’s trajectory and origin using the marks left on the trunk by the bullet.
“You’re not going back out there,” Chitwood said, as if he could see her mental calculations floating above her head. “Not tonight, anyway. Look, I’m going to call the state police and see if we can get some more bodies out in those woods. Maybe if there are twenty cops out there instead of just one, he’ll be less inclined to take a shot. Once we nab him, we’ll see if we can get him to talk.”
Something in the back of her mind was irking her. “Can you get someone to find Reed Bryan? If he’s looking for Pax and finds out he’s here, he’s going to be a real shitstorm. Maybe we can head him off at the pass?”
“Fine,” said the Chief.
Josie’s desk phone jangled. Noah lifted the ice pack. She put her foot down and leaned over, snatching up the receiver. “Quinn.”
Adam Long’s voice came over the line. “Detective Quinn?”
“Mr. Long.”
“Do you think you could come up to Harper’s Peak? We have a bit of a situation.”
Josie wondered if Emily was having another meltdown. She had no idea whether or not Marcie had prepared Adam and Celeste for her OCD.
“What’s the problem, Adam?”
“It’s just that, well, Emily is missing.”
Twenty-Four
Josie stood in Celeste and Adam’s parlor again, hands on her hips as she and Noah watched Celeste pace frenetically before the large picture window. Black six-inch heels sank into the thick oriental carpet as she moved back and forth. A sleeveless purple wrap dress clung to her angular frame. Strands of her hair had come loose from her chignon, floating around her head no matter how many times she slicked them back. Josie watched her reflection in the glass. Outside, there was only darkness punctuated by the lights of the resorts downhill. In the distance, Josie saw the strobe of blue and red police lights. Celeste followed her gaze and froze in place. She waved a pale arm toward the window. “Would you tell them to turn off the lights? Jesus. I don’t want police vehicles on this property. I’d have Tom do it, but he’s out in the woods looking
