"Deaver, Jeffery - Lincoln Rhyme Series 03 - The Empty Chair(2000)[v1]" - читать интересную книгу автора (Deaver Jeffrey)

'Urn, you think?"

"Who else'd it be? This time of morning, this side of the Paquo?"

"You were right, looks like," Jesse Corn said. "I didn't believe it at first but you hit this one
on the head."

It had been Ed's theory that the boy would come back here. Not because of the clich6 -
about returning to the scene of the crime - but because Blackwater Landing had always
been his stalking ground and whatever kind of trouble he'd gotten himself into over the
years he always came back here.

Ed looked around, fear now replacing exhaustion and discomfort as he gazed at the
infinite tangle of leaves and branches surrounding him. Jesus, the deputy thought, the
boy's here someplace. He said into his radio, "The tracks look to be moving toward you
but 1 can't tell for sure. He was walking mostly on leaves. You keep an eye out. I'm going
to see where he was coming from."

Knees creaking, Ed rose to his feet and, as quietly as a

big man could, followed the boy's footsteps back in the direction they'd come - farther into
the woods, away from the river.

He followed the boy's trail about a hundred feet and saw it led to an old hunting blind - a
gray shack big enough for three or four hunters. The gun slots were dark and the place
seemed to be deserted. Okay, he thought. Okay ... He's probably not in there. But still ...

Breathing hard, Ed Schaeffer did something he hadn't done in nearly a year and a half:
unholstered his weapon. He gripped the revolver in a sweaty hand and started forward,
eyes flipping back and forth dizzily between the blind and the ground, deciding where
best to step to keep his approach silent.

Did the boy have a gun? he wondered, realizing that he was as exposed as a soldier
landing on a bald beachhead. He imagined a rifle barrel appearing fast in one of the slots,
aiming down on him. Ed felt an ill flush of panic and he sprinted, in a crouch, the last ten
feet to the side of the shack. He pressed against the weathered wood as he caught his
breath and listened carefully. He heard nothing inside but the faint buzzing of insects.

Okay, he told himself. Take a look. Fast.

Before his courage broke, Ed rose and looked through a gun slot.

No one.

Then he squinted at the floor. His face broke into a smile at what he saw. "Jesse," he called
into his radio excitedly.

"Go ahead."

"I'm at a blind maybe a quarter mile north of the river. 1 think the kid spent the night here.