Girl Missing by Tess Gerritsen Read Free Book Online

mean—now?”
    “If we could.” He met her gaze. “If you’d be so kind.”
    She, too, stood up and followed him into the main hall. “What about your dinner guests?”
    “They can feed themselves. Would you excuse me a moment while I gracefully duck out?”
    He went through the side door, but this time he left it open. Kat caught a glimpse of a formal dining room and half a dozen guests seated around the table. Some of them glanced curiously in Kat’s direction. She heard Isabel ask, “Should I wait for you, Adam?”
    “Please don’t,” he said. “I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
    “This is really quite naughty of you, you know.”
    “It can’t be helped. Good night, everyone! You’re free to have a go at my wine cellar, but leave me a few bottles, will you?” He clapped one of the men on the shoulder, waved farewell, and came back into the hall, shutting the door behind him.
    “That’s done,” he said to Kat. “Now. Let’s go.”

T HE MORGUE ELEVATOR SLID OPEN . H ERE we go again , she thought.
    The basement seemed calm tonight. The only noise was the morgue attendant’s radio, playing in a side office. Something mean and gritty and tuneless. She and Adam passed the open door, where they could see the attendant sitting with his feet propped up on the desk, his gaze focused on a girlie magazine.
    “Hey, Willie,” said Kat.
    “Hey, Doc,” he said, grinning at her over the cover. “Not much action coming down tonight.”
    “I can tell.”
    “You mean this?” He waved the magazine and laughed. “Man, I get tired of looking at dead chicks. I like mine live and sassy.”
    “We’re going into the cold room, okay?”
    “Need any help?”
    “No. You just stay with your sassy chicks.”
    She and Adam walked on down the hall, beneath the bank of fluorescent lights. The bulb that had been flickering earlier that day was now dead; it left a patch of shadow on the linoleum floor.
    They entered the storage room. She flicked on the wall switch and blinked at the painful blast of light on her retinas. The refrigerated drawers faced them from the opposite wall.
    She moved to the drawer labeled VARGAS, XENIA , and slid it open. Covered by the shroud, the body seemed shapeless, like a lump of clay still to be molded. She glanced up at Adam in silent inquiry.
    He nodded.
    She removed the shroud.
    The corpse looked like a mannequin, not real at all, but plastic. Adam took one good look at Xenia Vargas, and all the tension seemed to escape his body in a single sigh.
    “You don’t know her?” said Kat.
    “No.” He swallowed. “I’ve never seen her.”
    She replaced the shroud and slid the drawer shut. Then she turned and looked at him. “Okay,Mr. Quantrell, I think it’s time for you to ’fess up. Who, exactly, are you looking for?”
    He paused. “A woman.”
    “I know that. I also know she’s got hazel eyes. And the chances are, she’s either a blonde or a redhead. Now I want to know her name.”
    “Maeve,” he said softly.
    “Now we’re getting somewhere. Maeve who?”
    “Quantrell.”
    She frowned. “Wife? Sister?”
    “Daughter. I mean, stepdaughter. She’s twenty-three. And you’re right. She’s blond. Hazel eyes. Five foot five, a hundred fifteen pounds. At least, that’s what she was when I saw her last.”
    “And when was that?”
    “Six months ago.”
    “She’s missing?”
    He shrugged one tuxedoed shoulder. “Missing, hiding. Whatever you want to call it. She drops out of sight whenever she feels like it. Whenever she can’t face up to life. It’s her way of coping.”
    “Coping with what?”
    “Everything. Bad grades. Love affairs. Her mother’s death. Her lousy stepfather.”
    “So you two didn’t get along.”
    “No.” Wearily he raked his fingers throughhis hair. “I couldn’t handle her. I thought I could shape her up. You know, a firm hand, some good old-fashioned discipline. The way my father raised me. I even got her a job, thinking that all she