Tracks of Her Tears by Melinda Leigh Read Free Book Online Page B

he handed Seth a USB drive and a list of names and phone numbers.
    “Thanks for your cooperation.” Seth slid the flash drive and paper into his pocket.
    “Glad to help, as always.” But Bob didn’t look happy.
    Seth and Phil left the bar. “Let’s split up to save time. You take the mini-mart and the gas station. I’ll take the motel and the diner.” With a sad twinge, he pulled up a picture of Bruce and Amber Lynn from a family dinner a few weeks before and texted it to Phil. “See if anyone saw them, and get copies of the parking lot surveillance videos.”
    Twenty minutes later Seth met Phil at the car.
    Seth unlocked his vehicle. “Anything?”
    “No, but I got the videos,” Phil said. “Are you heading over to the search?”
    “Yes.” As much as Seth wanted to work nonstop on Amber Lynn’s murder, he needed to be there for Carly. Besides, he had no evidence that anything violent had happened to Bruce. It was possible that he’d dropped Amber Lynn off at her apartment and driven home. The roads had been slick. Bruce could have run his van off the road on his way back to the Taylor farm.
    “I’ll head back to the station and start reviewing surveillance tapes,” Phil offered. “I’ll let you know if I see anything.”
    “Sounds good.” Seth got into his car and drove off.
    Three p.m.
    Bruce had been missing for fifteen hours.

CHAPTER SIX
    Carly parked in front of the main house. Her sister-in-law’s minivan sat in the driveway. Debra had gone to high school with Carly and Stevie. When they were teenagers, neither Carly nor her sister could imagine why Debra wanted to date their bossy older brother, whose bedroom smelled like dirty socks. But many years and two small boys later, James and Debra were still together.
    The sound of musical instruments being misused bled through the closed front door. Carly went inside.
    “Hello?” she called out.
    “In here,” Debra yelled from the den, which the family loosely called the music room. Her three-year-old son banged on the drum set in the corner, while her five-year-old sat at the piano playing random notes with a mischievous grin. Squealing, baby Charlotte bounced on her chubby legs. At the front of the room, Brianna stood with her hands propped on her hips, an irritated scowl on her face. Spying Carly, she ran to her mother.
    “Mama, the boys won’t do what I say,” she complained. “I want to be a band, like Uncle Bruce’s, and they’re ruining it.”
    Carly hugged her frustrated daughter. “They don’t have to listen to you, sweetheart. Let Aunt Debra be their mommy.”
    The boys were clearly making a racket just to annoy their bossy older cousin. Both had the innate musical ability gifted to the Taylor family and could at minimum keep proper rhythm. Carly knew for a fact that they could also pluck out simple tunes on the piano. But Brianna spent long hours with Bruce and was absorbing his ability to play any instrument she picked up. She expected her little cousins to have her attention span, when they’d much rather devil her.
    The thought of Bruce patiently helping Brianna position her fingers on his guitar strings gave Carly an empty feeling behind her sternum. He just had to be all right.
    She brushed a hair off her daughter’s forehead. “If you ignore them, they’ll stop.”
    Brianna looked up at her, skeptical.
    “I know this because Aunt Stevie and Uncle Bruce and I used to do the same thing to Uncle James,” Carly said. Bruce had been particularly skilled at annoying their oldest sibling. The void inside her grew. “We used to bet on who could make his face get red the fastest.”
    “That was mean.” Brianna crossed her arms over her skinny chest.
    Carly didn’t argue, but she left her young daughter with something to reflect on. “Uncle James was bossy, and we didn’t like it.”
    “You were still mean.” Brianna clearly didn’t see the parallel with her own behavior.
    Sometimes kids need to learn their lessons