The Hunt by Allison Brennan Read Free Book Online Page A

house and Quinn heard the low murmur of the boys within the stalls.
    “Ryan! Sheriff Thomas is here to talk to you.”
    Ryan Parker was almost eleven, the image of his father with blond hair and brown eyes. Unusually handsome for a young boy, he seemed older, almost worldly, compared to the McClain brothers.
    “Ryan,” Nick began, “this is Special Agent Quincy Peterson. He’s with the FBI.”
    Ryan’s eyes widened with excitement. “The FBI? Really? Can I see your badge?”
    “Ryan,” his father said sternly.
    Quinn ignored Parker and squatted down so he looked up at the boy. “Sure,” he said as he pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket. He flipped it open and showed his badge and credentials to the wide-eyed kid.
    Ryan didn’t touch, but looked with interest. “Do you have to go to a special school to be a special agent?”
    “After four years of college, I spent sixteen weeks at a special training camp called Quantico. I also took an extra year to get a master’s degree in criminology.”
    “Is it hard?”
    “Parts of it. You want to be a federal agent?”
    Ryan glanced at his father, and Quinn noticed a touch of fear in the boy’s eyes. Perhaps his father simply expected him to follow in his footsteps, Quinn thought. He could relate. The fact that he wasn’t “Doctor Peterson” still weighed heavily in his parents’ house. “Maybe,” Ryan said, noncommittal.
    “Can Sheriff Thomas and I ask you and your friends a few questions?”
    “About the dead girl.”
    “Yeah.”
    Sean and Timmy McClain were brushing a horse, though they’d been listening with interest, evident from the fact that the smaller brother was brushing air.
    “Guys, come over here,” Quinn called.
    They dropped the grooming tools in a bucket and rushed over, introducing themselves. Sean was the older brother, acting tough and important. Timmy, the smaller boy, couldn’t stop moving, his eyes wide with interest. Quinn noted Ryan’s leadership role in the trio as he stood and the boys gathered behind him, sitting on stacks of hay. Quinn didn’t like the way Richard Parker stood formally at the side, looking every inch a judge, but considering this was an informal interview with minors, he couldn’t very well ask the father to leave. Especially when the father was an attorney.
    “Ryan, why don’t you tell me what you boys were doing this morning, in your own words. Timmy, Sean, pipe up if you think of anything to add. There are no right or wrong answers. And no one remembers everything, so one of you might remember something another doesn’t. Understand?”
    They all nodded as Quinn and Nick took out their notepads. Ryan spoke. “We took the horses out at seven this morning. Sean and Timmy spent the night because we wanted to go early, and they live in town.”
    “Mom works weekends,” Timmy said with a bob of his head. “We come here a lot.”
    “It’s probably fun to hang out at a ranch with horses and cool stuff to do,” Quinn said, smiling.
    Timmy nodded. “Oh, yeah, and we get to—” His brother hit him hard in the arm.
    “Shut up,” Sean said. “They only want to know about the dead girl.”
    Timmy looked sheepish.
    “That’s okay,” Quinn told the younger boy. “You never know what might be important in an investigation.”
    The boys had left the ranch early and ridden across the pasture to the east. They took an overgrown trail intending to find an Indian burial site on the north ridge.
    “You know you aren’t supposed to go that far,” Parker admonished. “That’s a treacherous path. You’re damn lucky one of the horses didn’t break a leg.”
    “I’m sorry, Pa,” Ryan said, looking down.
    “Go on,” Quinn said. Just what he needed was a scared kid and belligerent dad. “Where’s the Indian site you were looking for?”
    “We don’t know. That’s why we were looking. Gray, you know, the caretaker at the Lodge down there,” he motioned vaguely south, “says it’s up on the