When All The Girls Have Gone by Jayne Ann Krentz Page A

who shows up at the scene.”
    “She wasn’t the first person. Technically it was Louise Flint’s housekeeper who was first on the scene.”
    “Still, from the sound of it, this Charlotte Sawyer showed up with a full set of keys. That raises questions.”
    “Yes, it does,” Max said. “I’m looking for answers, trust me.”
    “I do. But you know me. I like to talk shop.”
    “I know. You need to find a job, Anson. You’re going to drive yourself crazy if you don’t. Probably drive me crazy, too.”
    “Got any suggestions? There’s this thing called age discrimination. I’m too old for law enforcement. And I sure as hell don’t plan to work nights as a minimum-wage security guard at some office building.”
    “We’ve talked about this. You should look into volunteer work.”
    Anson shrugged and drank some more beer. “I’m thinking about it.”
    “Good.” Max leaned back in his chair. “I was about to turn on the game,” he said, lying through his teeth. “You want to watch?”
    “Sure. Not like I’ve got anything better to do.”
    *   *   *
    The game ended around ten thirty. Anson pushed himself up out of the recliner.
    “That’s that,” he said. “Good game. Reckon I’ll head back to my place. You’ll be wanting to get some sleep tonight. Sounds like you’ve got a lot of interesting work ahead of you tomorrow. Let me know what you find out about that missing woman.”
    “Jocelyn Pruett,” Max said. “I’ll do that.”
    He got up and followed Anson to the door.
    Outside Anson stopped and eyed the rain that was dripping onto the front porch.
    “Porch roof leaks,” he said.
    “I know. I’ll get to it. Got other priorities inside that need to be fixed first. Namely the plumbing. Speaking of which, you okay with supervising the plumber tomorrow?”
    “Leave it to me,” Anson said.
    “Promise me you won’t tell him how to do his job.”
    “’Course not. But I’ll keep an eye on him.”
    Anson went down the front steps and walked quickly through the light mist. At his front door he paused to raise a hand in a casual good night and then he disappeared into his house.
    Max closed his door and went back into the kitchen. He thought about the day Anson Salinas had, quite literally, crashed into his life.
    He had been a terrified ten-year-old kid and he had not been alone. There were seven other children with him. They had all been locked in the old barn for the night. Quinton Zane always locked them up for the night.
    Zane said it was for their own protection. He said it was to help them overcome their fears. He said it was to make them strong.
    But what they really feared was Quinton Zane. He was the real-life monster in their world; the young, charismatic, terrifying leader of the cult.
    On the night that shattered Max’s childhood forever, Zane told his followers that he’d had a vision in which he would soon disappear. And he did—but not before he had triggered a series of explosions that set fire to the buildings in the compound, including the barn where the kids slept.
    Max and the others awakened to find themselves locked in a structure that was in flames. And then, as they huddled together in the middle of the barn, frozen in terror, aware that they were going to burn alive, a hero arrived to rescue them.
    Anson Salinas, the chief of police of the nearby town, had used his vehicle to smash through the old barn door. He leaped out from behind the wheel, rounded up all eight kids, crammed them into the SUV and roared out of the blazing barn. Moments later the entire structure came crashing down.
    Several of the adult members of the cult perished that night. Max’s mother was one of them.
    Ultimately the social workers were able to track down relatives for five of the eight kids. But three boys—Max, Cabot Sutter and Jack Lancaster—were all officially orphaned.
    They had gone home with Anson Salinas the night of the fire because there was nowhere else for them to go.