Hidden In The Everglades. Margaret Daley

fair share of gunshot victims in the emergency room in Chicago. Some were caught up in gang wars. Others in drug deals gone bad. I thought I had left that behind.”

      “As a police officer, I discovered evil can exist anywhere.”

      “Wilson told me he didn’t know who the other victim at the Pattersons’ house was. He appeared older than Preston. Do you think this has anything to do with drugs or something like that?”

      “Maybe. When I talked to Gabe a few minutes ago, he told me the other person who died at the scene was Preston’s cousin from Miami, Tyler Stevens. His cousin had been visiting and hadn’t been here long. He had the same black dagger tattooed on his neck as Preston did.”

      “A gang?”

      “Gabe is checking with the Miami police. “

      He pushed away from the railing. “I never thought of Flamingo Cay and gangs in the same context.”

      “He said they checked where the man I chased ran into the undergrowth and saw another set of prints near his and mine. Looked to be about a size-thirteen shoe, Gabe said. Since it rained last night, he thinks either someone was standing there watching the house or waiting for Amy or someone else.”

      A gray tinge to his face, Michael sucked in a shaky breath then slowly released it. “Let’s see what progress Harvey and his bloodhound, Boomer, have made. Maybe they’ve already found a trail that will lead us right to Amy.”

      Kyra hoped so, too, but what she wouldn’t voice to Michael was her concern over how they would find Amy. When his gaze snagged hers as he moved toward his back door, though, she glimpsed the same fear in his expression as she had. Amy could be dead somewhere nearby. Like the two young men at the Pattersons’.

      She halted Michael’s progress into his house with, “Amy came back and changed. She was alive a while ago and got away from whoever killed those boys because I chased him to the canal in the opposite direction from here. I don’t think she had time to come home, change and somehow end up in the swamp being chased by the assailant.”

      Pain glazed his eyes. “Yeah, but what if the second person Gabe found the prints of followed her here and waited until she left again?”

      “With all the police around here? Probably not.” At least she prayed he hadn’t. Kyra grabbed her damp tennis shoes and put them on.

      Frowning, Michael yanked open the back door and strode through the entrance and continued toward the foyer. When he stepped outside onto the porch, he peered toward the Pattersons’ house. A red, beat-up truck was parked behind a police cruiser in the driveway. “Where’s Gabe? Harvey?”

      The need to let him know he wasn’t alone inundated her. This was someone she’d grown up with, and she’d been at his house playing with his older sister. “It looks like Gabe has already started tracking Amy’s movements.”

      Michael turned to the left in the direction Kyra indicated. Gabe ambled across the next-door neighbor’s yard, slightly behind a large man with a barrel chest and a bloodhound in the lead. “I’m not ready for this.” His voice caught on the last word as his fingers grasped the railing.

      Kyra clasped his arm, wishing she’d been able to prevent Amy from running away this morning at the Pattersons’. But if Amy had stopped, the killer would have shot her in the back. “Remember I’m here for you. We’ll find her, and I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

      He pried loose his grip from the railing and peered toward her. “I appreciate your help. I’ve never had something like this happen to me.”

      She was all too familiar with a person agonizing over the disappearance of a loved one. “Most people thankfully don’t.”

      “Flamingo Cay is a small town. Things like this don’t happen here. I know that Gabe has been the police chief for twenty-three years, but is he capable of handling these multiple murders?”

      “I know for a fact he can. When I was thirteen, there had been a family murdered here not far outside of town. He wasn’t the police chief yet, but he’s the one who solved the case and brought the man in. A fine piece of detective work. He and Dad were friends. He used to come over, and I would overhear the details about the case. Of course, they didn’t know I was listening. But that’s when I started wanting to be a police officer.”

      “That must have been right before we moved to Flamingo Cay.”

      “Yeah, if I remember correctly you all moved in a couple of months after that case was solved.”

      “Still, I’m glad you’re helping him with the case. Ginny told me about some of the murders you worked on in Dallas.”

      The idea he and Ginny had talked about her warmed her face. Yes, she’d talked about Michael with Ginny, but she had also discussed Amy. A friend curious about a friend’s family.

      He shoved away from the railing and descended the steps. “I wonder if he’s checked the swamp area behind the Pattersons’ place.”

      “He probably will after he finds Amy’s trail. I didn’t see anything while I was in the swamp that would point to who the killer is, but then I was ducking bullets.”

      Michael clamped his jaw tightly, his neck stiff. “You make it sound like it was no big deal.”

      “It is a big deal, but I refuse to let it get to me or I’ll hesitate when I shouldn’t.” She descended the front steps. “You said Amy loves the swamp. Any particular place she liked to go?”

      “She had a kayak she kept sometimes at the old pier at the end of the trail, but usually at the public dock off Main. She asked me about a few places, but I never heard about one area she spent all her time. She gave me some story that she needed to help preserve places like the Everglades and that she liked moving around.”

      “Why don’t you think she meant it?”

      “There was something in her tone. A certain look on her face. She kept her gaze averted. Just a feeling.” He headed across the yard toward Gabe and Harvey.

      The police chief came to a halt at the curb in front of Michael’s house and removed a toothpick from his mouth. “We followed a trail across several neighbors’ yards until it reached the middle of Bay Shore Drive and suddenly ended like someone had picked her up in a car. I’ve called Nichols and Connors to check with friends and to begin a search of the town. What was she doing yesterday? Who was she with?”

      “Amy loves spending time in the marshes.”

      “So she spent most of yesterday in the swamp?” Gabe rolled the toothpick between his thumb and forefinger as he started toward the Pattersons’ house. “Alone?”

      “She never mentioned anyone, but I think Laurie sometimes went with her.” Michael pointed toward the thick cluster of trees edging the undergrowth.

      As they came closer to the border of the swamp, Harvey quickened his pace, following behind his bloodhound. They entered where the killer had when Kyra went after him, not on the well-worn path ten yards away.

      “Let’s see where Boomer takes us. Since it’s summer there’s a lot of water.” Gabe peered at Kyra’s tennis shoes. “You might want to wear something else.”

      “I don’t have anything else. And as you can see, I’ve been in mud up to my ankles. Don’t worry about me.”

      Harvey directed Boomer into the underbrush with Gabe trailing next, then Kyra and Michael. With nose to the ground, the bloodhound took off, charging through the vegetation in the same direction Kyra had gone only hours ago after the assailant.

      They emerged from the undergrowth onto the path, and Michael fell in right behind her. “When I was a child, I use to come here like Amy. Loved the adventure. That’s why I really couldn’t say much to Amy about coming here alone. But I’ve been back for four months and have only gone into the swamp a few times.”

      “Things