Page 72 of Crosshairs

“Is your wife around?” Ainsley asked. “Or Colton? Maybe one of them saw him.”

He shifted his gaze to Ainsley. “I doubt it.”

“We’d like to ask,” Linc said.

Mason spit on the ground. “Alma!” he called without looking around. “These nice folks want a word with you.”

Alma appeared at the camper door almost instantly.

“Don’t keep ’em waiting,” Mason snapped. “Get yourself out here.”

She eased out the door and walked to the picnic table, her steps hesitant. Linc repeated his question as Mason handed her the sketch. She cast a sideways glance at her husband and shook her head. “Sorry, I can’t help you.”

“Is Colton around?” Ainsley asked.

“Naw. He took off early this morning, walking the Old Trace. But he didn’t see him either,” Mason said.

Ainsley rested her hand on her gun. “How can you be so sure?”

“If I didn’t see him, neither did Colton. I check out everybody around here as soon as they set up.”

“You hanging around Rocky Springs much longer?” Linc asked.

“Plan to.”

“You don’t have a job?” Ainsley asked.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m on medical leave. I get antsy in town. It’s why we hit the road as soon as I was able.”

A text chimed on Linc’s phone, and he opened it. “Mind if I step into the shade? Sun’s too bright for me to see my screen.”

“Suit yourself.”

Linc stepped into the shade, noting a message from the FBI agent. Then he silenced his phone and snapped a photo of Mason. “Cortland is here,” he said to Ainsley.

They both turned to leave and Linc stopped, handing Mason a card. “In case you lost the one I gave you. If you happen to remember seeing the man in the sketch, contact me.”

“Will do.” Mason took the card and handed it to his wife. She bobbed an acknowledgment and then scurried back inside the trailer.

Ainsley was already in the Tahoe when Linc climbed in on the driver’s side and pulled away. “That was interesting.”

“Yeah. Did you smell the marijuana?”

“The skunk, you mean?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Do you think he could have been Hannah’s supplier?”

“That occurred to me, but I get the feeling he’s messing with us.”

“Yeah. I get the distinct impression he believes he’s smarter than we are. Sam should have the background check on him by now.”

“Whether he does or not, I’ll get Cortland to run a facial recognition scan of the photo I snapped when I stepped into the shade.”

They turned out of the loop and drove toward the meeting point. Seconds later, Colton came into view. “Pull over,” Ainsley said. “I want to talk to him.”

Linc parked and both climbed out and waited for Colton to reach them. The boy was having a bad hair day with his hair sticking out in every direction under his cap. He wore the samecutoff shorts and tank top from yesterday. “You okay?” Linc asked when Colton drew near.

“Not sleeping too good,” he said, scanning the woods behind them.

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