Christmas Cover-Up by Lynette Eason Page B

comfort of your home.”
    “That’s a very nice way of saying I need to stay out of the way, hmm?”
    Katie gave a low chuckle. “Yes, ma’am.”
    Mrs. McDowell nodded and gave a light laugh, but it didn’t cover her worried glance at Bobby Young’s house.
    “Does he have any animals?” Katie asked.
    She shook her head. “No. He likes to travel too much. Said an animal would tie him down.”
    “Thank you, Mrs. McDowell, you’ve been very helpful.”
    “Please let me know when you talk to him?”
    “Of course. We’ll have him call you.”
    She nodded and walked slowly back up her driveway.
    Jordan looked at Katie. “I’m going to walk around to the back and see if I see anything.”
    Katie nodded. Jordan headed around the side of the house but turned back at the sound of a vehicle approaching. A classy white convertible Mercedes with a black top. Hunter Young must do well for himself. The Mercedes pulled to the curb and a tall man in his early forties climbed from the car. A worried frown creased his forehead. “I’m Hunter Young.”
    Jordan shook the man’s outstretched hand. “FBI Special Agent Jordan Gray. This is Detective Katie Jacobs.”
    He blanched. “Since when does the FBI investigate a car wreck?”
    Katie flashed her badge and said, “He was with me working another case when it happened. He’s not officially investigating, but we were both concerned when your father didn’t show up like he promised, so thought we’d check on him.”
    Hunter nodded. “You’ve every reason to be concerned. If Dad said he’d be there, he would have been. I brought him home from the hospital, and that’s all he talked about. Once all the excitement was over and everyone was okay, he thought it all a great adventure. He was excited about working with the sketch artist to find the guy responsible.” Hunter walked toward the house, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. “I tried calling his cell all the way over here. He rarely doesn’t answer. And usually calls me right back if I do get his voice mail.” He opened the front door. Cold air rushed out at them. “Dad?”
    Jordan had a bad feeling growing in his gut. Why was the house so cold? It was the middle of December. Everyone had the heat on. Especially with the temps dropping into the low teens at night. He placed a hand on the man’s arm. “Do you mind waiting here and letting us check it out?”
    “Yes, I mind.” He stepped inside. “Dad?” He looked at them. “Why is it so cold in here?” He gave a shudder. “He didn’t say anything about the heat pump giving him trouble. Dad?”
    “Sir,” Katie said. “If we find something, this could be a crime scene. We need to keep it as undisturbed as possible. Wait here.”
    Her words were an order. Hunter flinched, but stopped in his tracks. “Crime scene? You think—”
    “I don’t think anything,” Katie said with a more gentle tone. “I just want to cover all my bases. For your father’s sake.”
    Hunter swallowed hard and Jordan could tell the man wanted to go tearing through the house. He didn’t blame him. If it were his father, he’d feel the same way. But Hunter stood still and clenched a fist. “He could be lying hurt or sick. Hurry. Please.”
    * * *
    Katie stepped lightly, wishing for crime scene booties. Bobby Young might not even be here, but her gut cried out that he was and it wasn’t going to be good. She stepped into the den and noticed the wide-open French doors that led to the back deck. Cold air blew in.
    “Jordan.”
    “Kitchen’s clear.” He came up beside her. Spotted the doors. “Uh-oh.”
    “Mr. Young?” Katie called. They cleared the first floor, then headed for the second. “Bedroom one, clear,” she called.
    “Bedroom two, clear,” Jordan echoed.
    Katie stepped into the next room and came to a halt. Even through her heavy down coat, she felt the cold in the house to her bones.
    This was his office. The desk faced the window, looking out to the