Left to Vanish (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Eight) by Blake Pierce (books to read for 13 year olds .txt) 📗

“Yes… but that’s a connection. Ithas to be.” Adele looked off for a moment, blinking toward the window andwincing as if against a sudden headache. For a moment, it almost seemed likeshe’d forgotten Agent Paige was even there.

Sophie sighed, staring at theyounger woman’s sharp profile. She could see the exhaustion weighing on Adele.Could see the doubt in the woman’s eyes, the frustration. Could see the needfor some sort of approval in every askance glance and awkward gesture.

But what could Paige say? A secondhome in France was hardly significant. Besides, neither victim was even killedin France. The connection was spurious at best.

She opened her mouth to say asmuch, but then paused, staring at where Adele’s sleep-deprived, sweaty form wasoutlined against the windows. Paige’s gaze returned to the plastic cup of darkcoffee.

Instead, she grunted and said, “Maybe.Here, coffee. Will help wake you if—”

At that moment, her phone began tobuzz. At the same time, a ring tone began to twitter from a discarded sweaterby the front doors. Adele frowned, jogging over toward the ringing phone buriedin her clothes, as Paige also pulled her cell from her pocket.

She raised the phone, recognizingthe number and feeling a cold chill down her back.

“Yes?” she answered, frowning.

“Sophie?”

“Foucault?”

The Executive cleared his throaton the other line. “Bad news, I’m afraid, Sophie. The killer got another. Wehave a third victim.”

Paige felt her frustration spark,but she kept back the burst of emotion and simply said, “Where?”

Foucault cleared his throat,coughing briefly before saying, “Germany this time, Sophie. I need you both tohead there straightaway.”

***

Adelesat with one hand gripping the window seat’s arm rests, and the otherfeverishly poking at her phone.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Agent Paige. “Theyhaven’t moved the body yet?”

Sophie leaned back in the airplane seat and shook her heada single time, staring ahead and frowning. She had an untouched cup of orangejuice in front of her, her eyes fixed off in the distance. “Not yet,” shemurmured. “I hate these damn flights,” she added, beneath her breath.

Adele raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment, instead searchingfor Foucault’s number; she raised the phone, allowing it to ring for a second,and then a voice on the other end said, “Executive’s office.”

Adele swallowed, feeling a rising sense of anticipation. “AgentAdele Sharp. Could you please put me through.”

The voice on the other end spoke without inflection. “He’snot taking calls right now.”

“Mary,” Adele said, through gritted teeth. “I need you toput me through right now—it’s important.”

The Executive’s assistant sighed on the other end, but thenin that same dry voice, she replied, “Let me see if he’s busy.”

There was no dial tone, or music, but Adele could tell she’dbeen put on hold. She growled, clicking the phone to speaker mode, and lookingto Agent Paige. “Did the Germans say anything about a summer home in France?”

The silver-haired agent continued staring off in thedistance, swallowing once as the plane hit a small patch of turbulence, butthen settled with a rattle of the cabin. “You’re still obsessed with that?”

“It’s the only connection we have. If this third victim hasa summer home in—”

Before she could continue, though, a voice cleared on theother end, and she heard the rasping, throaty sound of the Executive trying togain her attention.

“Sorry, sir,” she said, quickly. “So sorry. Just, I wantedto ask if you knew anything about a vacation home in Southern France. I calledahead to the investigators in Germany, but I haven’t heard back.”

The Executive grunted then said, “Agent Sharp, I’m sure ifthey find anything they’ll tell you. We have more important things to worryabout than vacation homes.”

“I… No sir, I don’t think we do actually.”

“Oh? What does a vacation home have to do with it?”

Adele leaned back, feeling a jolt of frustration. “It’slike I told them, sir. The last two victims both had homes in the same area.”

“And?”

“And, sir? It’s a connection.”

“Perhaps, but neither of the victims were killed in France.So I don’t see how—”

“I know that, sir. But I was just thinking—”

“Don’t interrupt me, Sharp. I need you and Paige to get tothe crime scene. The body is still there, but I can’t keep the coroner off formuch longer. I’ve already arranged for your ride from the airport.”

Adele tried not to let her frustration leak into her words.“Sir, I’m very confident that if we look into the vacation homes, we’re goingto find a connection.”

For a moment, he paused and a soft static sound filledAdele’s ear. He seemed to be considering his next words very carefully beforesaying, with the same lack of inflection as his assistant, “Is there a reasonyou’re so focused on France right now?” His tone gave her pause, and it took hera moment to realize there was a pitying quality to it. She shivered, feelingunclean. She could have taken frustration, anger, impatience. Hell, she’d beengiven a master class in the cold shoulder from Agent Paige. But pity?

No, this emotion she couldn’t stomach.

“Sir,” she said, firmly, “this has nothing to do with mypersonal business. I checked; they both really do have homes in Southern France.”

“I believe you. Just, are you feeling yourself?”

Adele frowned, glancing toward Paige. “Why? What have youbeen told?”

“Nothing. Should I have been told something?”

Adele wanted to press further on the vacation home line ofquestioning, but decided she was already skating on thin ice.

“Agent Sharp, if this is getting too much for you, and ifyou want to return to France—”

“No, sir. Sorry for interrupting. But no, that’s not whatthis is at all. Oh, sorry, flight attendant. I have to go.”

Adele hung up on the executive of the DGSI. She shivered,lowering her phone, doing her best not to glance in Agent Paige’s direction,though she could tell the older woman was shooting sidelong glances.

The third victim had been killed only a couple of daysafter the second. The killer was escalating and as in the first two cases, hehad scouted out the territory before, avoiding the blind spots in the securitysystems, targeting older, wealthy women.

The connection was in France. She was sure of it. And ifthey wouldn’t listen to her, she’d have