He’d been acting as though on sentry, obviously ill at ease with being so exposed and impatient with the protracted farewell scene. Now his head snapped around and his gaze dropped to Emily.
“Kiss,” she repeated.
After a long, expectant moment, he bent down. Emily looped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Bye, Coburn.”
“Bye.” He stood up, pivoted quickly, and started walking quickly back toward the truck. “Hurry up,” he told Honor over his shoulder.
Emily scrambled into the backseat of the Mini Cooper. Honor wasn’t happy about her riding without her child seat, but Tori promised to drive with special care until she could stop and buy one.
When it came time for the two women to say goodbye, Tori eyed her warily. “You’re sure you’re doing the right thing?”
“I’m not at all sure. But I’ve got to do it anyway.”
Tori smiled ruefully. “You always were the Girl Scout.” She hugged Honor tightly. “I can’t even pretend to understand it all, but even I’m smart enough to realize that you’re trusting me with Emily’s life. I’d die before letting something bad happen to her.”
“I know you would. Thanks for this.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
The two friends shared a long look of unspoken trust, then Tori got into the Mini. As Honor closed the car door for her, Tori said through the open window, “I don’t care who or what Coburn is, I just hope you’re finally getting laid.”
Chapter 30
Clint Hamilton had been on the telephone for ten minutes with Tom VanAllen, who was giving him a full account of the morning’s events. He sounded reluctant, hesitant, and apologetic, which didn’t surprise Hamilton, because the upshot of the report was that Coburn had outfoxed and eluded the authorities again.
When VanAllen concluded, Hamilton thanked him absently, then remained silent for nearly a full minute while he absorbed and analyzed the new informatio
n. Finally he asked, “Any sign of a struggle aboard the boat?”
“I’m sending you some pictures by email. Our agent took interior and exterior shots. As you’ll see, it’s a shambles, but if you’re asking if they found fresh blood or anything like that, then no.”
“Coburn left the phone there, and it was on?”
“Deputy Crawford and I agree that he left it behind intentionally.”
“To draw everyone to the boat, while he was going the opposite direction.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hamilton had no doubt that had been Coburn’s intention. “The footprints. Did they indicate that Mrs. Gillette was being dragged from the boat? Heel skid marks, anything like that?”
“No, sir. In fact, Crawford has come right out and suggested that she’s not a hostage as originally believed.”
“I sense a furthermore.”
“Well, we’ve been given no indication that she’s attempted to escape from Coburn.”
“How could she without risking her child’s safety?”
“I understand, but, as Crawford pointed out, she obviously had access to her telephone, yet she didn’t use it to make any distress calls.”
Everything that Tom was saying lent even more credibility to what Hamilton had heard from the widow herself during their phone conversation yesterday. Forsaking law and order, trusted lifelong friends, and even her father-in-law, who by all accounts was her personal guard dog, Honor Gillette had allied herself with Lee Coburn.
“What about the tire tracks?”
“Their footprints led us right to them a couple hundred yards from the boat. The tread is clearly defined and has already been typed. The tires came as standard issue on several makes of Ford pickups, model years 2006 and 2007.”
“Jesus. That narrows it down to several thousand pickups in Louisiana alone.”