Prodigal

Chapter 15

15

Grant’s nose was pink below his uniform hat, and there was a hint of fog when he breathed. But he still stood patiently out front, waiting for his deputy. It reminded Luther of Grant’s father. He was the first man who’d shown any patience with Luther, and it was thoughts of the old Sheriff that prompted Luther to apologize. Even though Luther had been provoked.

“I’m sorry, Grant,” he said. “I let my temper get the best of me. It won’t happen again.”

“Really?” Grant asked, deadpan, green eyes boring into Luther.

“Well, not today anyway.” Luther tried to keep a straight face, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

Grant matched his half-smile. “I guess that’ll have to do,” he said, and reached for the door.

“Wait,” Luther said, stomping his feet before he could stop himself. “Damn, it’s cold. Listen, before we go in there… I stepped out because they were arguing and Otto asked for some privacy.”

“What did you hear?”

“More than Otto intended. I pretended I’d camped out in the bathroom until they wandered in the living room and found me. The upshot is Dorothy wants to press charges against Adam, but Otto’s dead set against it.”

“He say why?” Grant asked.

“Something about not muddying the waters while you’re looking for Rachel.”

Grant tilted his head. “That sounds surprisingly reasonable for someone who just pummeled a man.”

Luther nodded. “Yes, it does. Which is probably why he said it. But it’s bullshit.”

Grant didn’t disagree. “Any idea what his real reason is?”

“Not a one,” Luther admitted.

Grant sighed. “Well, let’s see what he has to say.” He knocked, but didn’t wait for a response before removing his hat and entering.

Luther followed suit. Stepping into the dry heat of the house made the skin on his face pucker. They found Dorothy with her back to the kitchen sink, arms crossed. Otto leaned against the perpendicular counter, in much the same pose. A bruise was coming up on his cheek where Adam—or maybe JJ—had gotten lucky.

“Luther probably told you,” Grant said, “we don’t have any news since we spoke last night.”

“Yes,” Otto said, “but he thought I might be of some help down at the Command Center today.”

Grant nodded. “But first we need to resolve this issue with Adam Rutledge and JJ Tulley.”

“JJ—” Dorothy began, but Otto interrupted her.

“There is no issue, Sheriff.”

“You sure about that, Otto? Because I don’t want to be getting another call to intervene in this non-issue.”

“Yes, sir, I’m sure. I’d like to focus on finding Rachel.”

Luther watched Dorothy while Otto acted as if she weren’t in the room. The woman didn’t look happy, but she didn’t contradict her husband, either. Grant said a little more to the parents, but nothing that amounted to anything, and within a minute or two Luther found himself back outside on the front step, freezing his ass off again.

“So what do you think?” Luther asked, blowing into cupped hands.

“I’d say you’re right to be suspicious about Otto’s sudden change of heart.”

Luther glanced at the heavy door behind them and lowered his voice. “You really think Otto could’ve taken her?”

Grant stared out at the Sheriff’s vehicle, where only JJ’s head was visible in the back. “I think it’s time we had a serious talk with Adam Rutledge.”

“You want to take him in, maybe hold him for a while?”

Grant shook his head, then brushed off the hat in his hand. “I’m afraid we don’t have that kind of time. And neither does Rachel Nicholson.”