Blunt Darts Read Online Free Page A

have given him more and more advanced materials to study and absorb. Given a few months of intensive study, I daresay he would be a better lawyer than—but, I digress. The point I wish to make is that Stephen has the emotional and intellectual courage to strike out on his own. He would know exactly and concisely what he would need, and that is what he packed.”
    “Toward … ?”
    “Until my stroke, three years ago, I was an active camper. The judge despises the outdoors and would feign illness when he was younger to avoid accompanying my late husband and me.
    “Stephen, however, seemed born with a love for the outdoors. He would walk the property here, approximately seventy-five acres, endlessly, as one season changed into another, observing the wildlife and plants. After my stroke, he would come in each day and describe to me what he’d seen and heard and touched. Stephen became terribly interested in the wilderness, and with my help, he and I selected numerous books and items from L. L. Bean, Abercrombie, and other catalogs to prepare a wilderness-survival kit for him.”
    “And that’s what he took with him?”
    “Yes and no, Mr. Cuddy, which is my point. What is missing is not his whole kit, nor a random sampling of all the items he had. What he took were only the lightest components and the barest necessities. My memory is still perfectly sharp, and I’m sure only his hand or mine could have selected so carefully the items that are missing.”
    “Could you make a list of those, along with the clothes Stephen was wearing and the clothes that are missing?”
    Mrs. Kinnington reached her hand down between the cushion and the couch and handed me a small envelope. “It’s all in there.”
    “Do you have a recent picture of him?”
    “The best one is also in the envelope. I would appreciate your making copies and returning the candid to me as soon as possible.”
    “I’ll do that.” I opened the envelope and scanned the list. It was written on rose-colored stationery with her name embossed on the top. The handwriting, now shaky, once must have won penmanship awards.
    Then I studied the photograph. It showed a black-haired boy, whittling but looking up at the lens. The body was right, but the face was somber, joyless, and somehow not … young.
    “How long ago was this taken?”
    “About six weeks. Stephen disappeared on Tuesday, June twelfth. The photograph was taken by his father, which explains Stephen’s expression.”
    I slipped the photo back into her envelope. “Mrs. Kinnington, you don’t speak as lovingly of your son as you do of your grandson. Was the judge the reason Stephen ran away?”
    “I don’t believe that is necessary for your task. Regardless of what my grandson’s reasons were for leaving, I am convinced Stephen’s father had nothing directly to do with his departure. Accordingly, I don’t wish you to speak with the judge nor even allow him to become aware that you are pursuing the case on my behalf.”
    I cleared my throat. “Mrs. Kinnington, that’s probably not possible. I’ll have to ask some questions in this town about Stephen, and that fact is bound to get back to the judge. Aside from you and him, I can’t think of anyone who would hire me to look for Stephen. Your son’s bound to add it up.”
    She fixed me firmly. “Nevertheless, I do not wish you to do anything that would specifically lead him to that conclusion.”
    “Mrs. Kinnington, I will do what I believe is best for finding Stephen. If that isn’t acceptable to you, I’ll walk right now. No charge.”
    She blinked and sighed. “Please do your best, then, to honor my wishes.” Barely a murmur.
    “I will.”
    I mentally reviewed the topics I had wanted to cover with her. Two remained.
    “I have only a few more questions for now, Mrs. Kinnington. One is about Stephen’s ‘hospital’ time after his mother died.”
    The eyes sharpened again with her voice. “That was years ago. What could it possibly