The Trophy Hunter Read Online Free Page A

at the corners, giving the
hint of a smile, as if being on a first name basis would elicit
more help from her. But his mouth under a sandy mustache remained
impassive.
    “Joe … what makes you think your daughter is
dead?”
    “She went to look for her girl, Lori. Brandi
found her and called nine-one-one, but when the feds came and got
Lori, they couldn’t find my daughter. There’d been a snowstorm.
They found her truck … and the SOB who kidnapped the girl. But they
never found my Brandi.”
    Diana shuddered inwardly. The distaste she’d
felt for the man at first glance was rapidly changing to empathy in
spite of his odd reference to his granddaughter as the girl .
“How old are your grandchildren?” she asked.
    “Keith is ten and Lori’s thirteen.”
    “Your granddaughter’s kidnapper was
apprehended? Shouldn’t they be able to get something out of him
about your daughter?”
    His eyes sought out something on the carpet.
“He’s dead. There is some justice.”
    “Dead?” she echoed.
    For an answer, he shrugged, then “Guess you
could say it’s an open case. Homicide.” Flannigan’s lack of eye
contact suggested he might have exacted his own justice. She
decided to pick Jess’s brain later instead of pressing him
further.
    Flannigan finally met her glance, his eyes
gone shrewd as he channeled the discussion past the dead kidnapper.
“The kids are pretty shook up, especially the girl.”
    There he goes again. The girl. Is she
damaged goods now? Diana’s budding empathy wilted. “Is she
getting any counseling?” she asked, aware of the irony. She’d
stuffed Dr. Hovac’s suggestion into her mental trash. This was
different, a child was involved.
    Flannigan shook his head. “Private things are
best kept in the home. I’m only tellin’ you ‘cause we need legal
help with this mess. He’s not goin’ t’ get the kids.”
    “He?” Diana thought she knew. “Is their
father in the picture?”
    “Damn straight he is, and it isn’t a pretty
picture. He’s got no business with these kids.” Joe Flannigan’s
ruddy complexion deepened in color. Diana had the feeling that it
would be unhealthy to be on the receiving end of this man’s
wrath.
    “You know, Mr. Flannigan,” began Diana,
opting out of first-name basis, “the courts always favor the
parents … unless there’s a serious impediment─”
    He was up, out of the chair, into her face.
“There is, damn it!” His breath reeked of stale cigarettes and
indigestion. “He killed her. The rotten, womanizing SOB killed my
Brandi.”

 
     
     
    Chapter 4
     
    Joe Flannigan sank back in his chair, looking
like he was about to have a coronary. “Try to calm yourself, Mr.
Flannigan.” Diana got up and filled a glass from a pitcher of water
on the credenza, handed it to Flannigan.
    He took a sip, and then eyed her sheepishly.
“Sorry. It gets to me. Know what I mean?”
    Diana nodded. She knew what he meant when it
came to rotten, womanizing SOBs.
    “I know what you’re goin’ to ask, and no, I
can’t prove it, not any of it.” He shook his head slowly, like it
was a tremendous weight on his shoulders. “But I know it in my
gut.” He paused and took another gulp of water. “October, beginnin’
of elk season, he took the girl huntin’. Him and his buddies. My
Brandi didn’t hunt. Had a soft spot in her heart for animals.
Strays and wild ones alike.”
    He seemed to be fading away again. Diana saw
tears welling under faded, sandy lashes. She cleared her throat
discreetly to bring him back.
    A shudder ran through his body that he shook
off like a dog emerging from water before picking up his discourse.
“She went down the street, the girl did. For a soda pop or
who-knows-what. He let her go by herself. It got dark─”
    “Wait a minute,” Diana interrupted, alarms
going off in her head. “You were there and you didn’t say
anything?” Unbelievable.
    “No, no.” He waved away her words. “I was
down gassin’ up my truck.