Tracks of Her Tears by Melinda Leigh Read Free Book Online

any more clues. On the bright side, they hadn’t found any more bodies either. As long as he didn’t see a body, Seth would believe that Bruce was alive.
    “We have to find him,” Carly said.
    The break in his wife’s voice hollowed Seth’s chest. She’d lost her father, and he couldn’t bear to think of the pain she’d feel if something happened to her younger brother. The entire Taylor family was just settling into a new normal.
    “The temperature is going to drop tonight,” she said. “What if he’s outside?”
    Light snow was already falling, and more was expected through the evening.
    “It’ll be okay.” But Seth’s voice lacked confidence. Amber Lynn had been the last person to see Bruce, and she was dead. His prime lead, Travis, had provided little useful information. He was hiding something, but Seth couldn’t prove it. To make matters worse, the weather was going to hell.
    Phil jogged across the asphalt. “Where are we going now? Fletcher’s?”
    “Yes. What did you learn from Amber Lynn’s employer?” Seth walked toward his vehicle.
    While Seth had been talking to Carly, Phil had called Amber Lynn’s employer. She’d worked as a receptionist for an accountant.
    Phil fell into step beside him. “She was a good employee. Didn’t miss much work. Her boss seemed genuinely sad to hear about her death. She gave me Amber Lynn’s emergency contact information. Ethel Kaminsky is the only name listed.”
    “No red flags?”
    “None,” Phil said. “Amber Lynn left work as usual at four thirty yesterday. Her boss didn’t notice anything unusual about her behavior, but she admitted she was busy trying to finish some year-end business and wasn’t paying close attention.”
    “Keep your eyes open for a cargo van.” Seth paused. “Bruce could’ve been in an accident.”
    “Then how was Amber Lynn killed?” Phil asked. “And how did she get to the park? Were they both kidnapped after they left the bar or was Amber taken after Bruce dropped her at home?”
    “Unfortunately, we can’t rule anything out yet.” Seth opened his car door.
    Phil turned toward his patrol vehicle, parked a few spots down the row. “Any luck pinging Bruce’s cell phone?”
    “No, but Bruce is famous for forgetting his phone or letting the battery die.” Seth hoped one of those was the reason he couldn’t be reached.
    Phil followed Seth to Fletcher’s. A truck stop occupied a chunk of dirt on the interstate just inside the Solitude city limits. A service station divided the cluster of buildings. A few cars and two eighteen-wheelers were lined up for fuel. A mini-mart sat behind the long row of pumps. Through the plate glass window, Seth could see a couple of customers at the register. A half-dozen additional trucks were lined up in the long parking slots behind the mini-mart. A diner and a motel sat on one side of the station, while Fletcher’s occupied the weedy patch of asphalt on the other.
    “I haven’t arrested anyone here all week,” Phil joked. At night the bar and parking lot would both be crowded. Drug dealers and a couple of hookers would be displaying their wares. Interstate truck stop traffic made selling drugs and sex easy. Fletcher’s was known for attracting an unsavory crowd.
    “Must be the holidays.” Seth had made his share of busts at Fletcher’s. The owner, Bob Fletcher, had slithered out from under charges ranging from serving underage minors to drug dealing to sex trafficking. Bob didn’t think twice about throwing a bartender or bouncer under the legal bus. “While I question Bob, see how many surveillance cameras you can spot inside the bar.”
    Seth and Phil went inside. Daylight emphasized the run-down and overall sleazy nature of the establishment. Dirt scraped underfoot, and dust motes hung suspended in beams of sunlight slanting through the blinds. Three men nursed beers and watched a hockey game at the bar. Bob Fletcher looked up from duct-taping a rip in a vinyl booth. In