Stranded

every time we want to discuss the details? Maybe he can’t even believe what he did. I’ve seen how a guilty person acts and Noah Waters is guilty.”
    “So what did he do with Ethan?” Tully asked.
    The detective shrugged. “I’ve checked hospitals in a hundred-mile radius. Just in case someone found him and picked him up. His parents have called all of his friends. I put out an APB. If he’s injured he could be delirious. Maybe a trucker picked him up. He could be in another state by now.”
    Maggie took a good look at Lopez. Mid to late forties, military buzz cut, a short but compact body, eyebrows that were perpetually knitted with worry. He projected a serious, experienced, and tough demeanor, yet he still didn’t appear to believe her or Tully that this case could possibly be related to their hunt for a serial killer. She couldn’t decide if he really did believe that Ethan was still alive or if he simply wanted to believe it.
    “But your men didn’t find the knife?” Tully again, playing the skeptic.
    “What knife?”
    “You have a severed finger,” Tully said. “You haven’t looked for the weapon that may have cut it off?”
    For the first time Lopez looked like he had been caught off guard.
    Just as Creed’s Jeep appeared on the interstate ramp coming down to the rest area, Maggie noticed the garbage truck, its hydraulic brakes hissing. It was finished collecting at the far end of the other parking lot and was heading for the ramp to get on the interstate.
    She turned to Lopez and asked, “Your men didn’t check the trash receptacles?”
    “My men were busy doing a search and rescue.” He seemed annoyed and defensive.
    “How often is garbage collected here?”
    “What? Once a week maybe. I have no idea.”
    Maggie motioned to Tully to give her their rental’s keys.
    “We have to stop that truck.”
    “I’ve got it,” Tully said as he took off running for their SUV.
    It was parked clear on the other side of the winding road in the cars’ parking lot.
    Maggie gauged the distance. The garbage truck hiccupped and belched diesel. Tully would never make it in time. She sprinted over the lawn and sidewalk, dodging travelers. Through the trees she could see the road that wound around the rest area. The truck would need to follow it to get to the interstate’s entrance ramp. It was shorter for her to race through the trees that surrounded the small brick building. She ran at a diagonal, pumping, pushing, willing her legs to go faster. The truck had started up the road. She’d need to intercept it before it got to the ramp.
    She didn’t, however, give it much thought as to how she’d stop it.
    As she ran toward the road she pulled out her badge and wavedit, but she was on the wrong side and too close for the driver to see her running alongside him on the passenger side. The truck started to accelerate and so did Maggie.
    She raced ahead. Beat the truck by less than a hundred yards. Then she jumped into the middle of the road waving her badge. The clutch and gears ground. Hydraulic brakes screeched. The truck’s front lift claws jolted to a stop within three feet of her, so close her nostrils instantly filled with the scent of garbage.
    “Jesus, lady,” the driver yelled as he stuck his head out the window. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
    “FBI. We need to take a look at your garbage.”

CHAPTER 39

    Creed watched from inside his Jeep. He’d just parked when he saw Maggie jump in front of the garbage truck. Now he shook his head and smiled. Even Grace stepped onto the console beside him, wagging her tail and raising her head to watch as she stood between the front seats.
    “Stop it,” he told the dog. “I already know you like her.”
    Work colleagues were off limits. Despite what Hannah thought, he did have some standards and limitations. But damn, this woman had, indeed, sparked something inside of him. He should have been headed back home. He didn’t like putting Grace through another grueling search on an entirely different terrain and making her shift from cadaver to live rescue in such a short time. Grace could do it, no problem. And she’d be more than willing. But Creed didn’t like that the only reason he agreed so quickly was because he wanted to spend more time with Maggie O’Dell. That wasn’t his style. He didn’t mix business with pleasure.
    He had worked to separate the two so that there was never any overlap. Often the women he slept with