Enigma (FBI Thriller #21)(20)

Cam took one last look at the Skylane. “It’d be nice if your baby would grow up a bit while we’re gone, like twenty feet longer with an extra engine or two.”

Jack patted her arm. “Trust me, I have a feeling that when we get back you’ll be happy to hop on board.”

They stowed their backpacks in the back of the SUV, piled in, Cam in front with Chief Harbinger and Jack in the back with Kim. Chief pulled out of the airfield onto a two-lane blacktop. “If I’d turned right, we’d end up in Corbin. But we’re going on the main road to the London Ranger Station.” He shot her a grin. “Which doesn’t meant anything to you. Okay, Jack, Cam, fire away. Kim, answer their questions.”

Jack said, “First, Kim, tell us why you’re so certain it was Manta Ray you saw walking into the forest.”

Kim leaned toward him. “I’d seen this guy’s—Manta Ray’s—wanted poster in Dad’s office and remembered thinking what a waste because he was so handsome. My friend Pam and I, we’d just come out from East Branch Road. We’d spent the morning with some kids from town, hiking and picnicking. We were driving on the dirt road leading out, and I saw him plain as day, with two other guys. One of them was handing Manta Ray a dark wool cap. I couldn’t believe it. I guess I must have sucked in my breath because Pam assumed I knew them and started to stop, and I panicked, told her to get out of there fast. I called my dad right away.” She paused a moment. “I didn’t even think about snapping their photo until later. Sorry.”

Jack said, “That must have been a moment, but you kept your head. You did good, Kim.”

She beamed at him. “For a minute there, I thought they knew I was watching them and I nearly peed myself. But now I don’t think they were paying any attention to us. They were focused on getting into the forest.”

Cam pulled out her cell, found a photo of Manta Ray and handed it to Kim. “This is the man you and Pam saw?”

“Oh yes, that’s him.” She sighed. “He’s so hot, plus the poster said he’s from Ireland, even has an Irish accent. What a bummer he’s a criminal.”

Jack said. “You said they were going into the forest. Did they have any kind of gear with them?”

“Nope, they didn’t have any camping gear or backpacks. The two guys with Manta Ray were carrying small blue gym bags that looked brand-new. That was it, not even water bottles.”

Jack knew there wasn’t underwear in those gym bags, there were weapons.

Cam said, “I don’t suppose Manta Ray was still wearing prison orange?”

“No orange. He had on jeans that looked so stiff they had to be right off the rack. His plaid shirt and hiking boots, too, everything looked brand-new. I guess he didn’t know you never start on a long hike in brand-new boots.”

“And the two men with him?”

“Nothing special. Long-sleeve shirts, jeans, and those wool caps. Their clothes weren’t new, but not ratty, either.”

Cam wondered if they were experienced hikers, if they could handle the wilderness, or if they were city raised, like Manta Ray.

Cam said, “We assumed they’d be picking up gear and supplies once they were inside the forest, at some predesignated drop. That’s got to be what they did, then. They had Manta Ray’s escape well planned.”

Chief said, “Kim, give Jack the folder.”

Kim was sitting on it. She pulled it out, opened it. “Dad had me meet with Leo Pruitt, our local artist, to get these sketches done. Mr. Pruitt doesn’t spend much time on the planet, usually all he paints are rocks and bears, but he tried. They’re not bad, pretty right on, really, even though I only saw them for a few seconds.” She handed Jack a pencil drawing. “He didn’t draw Manta Ray; no need to.” Cam turned in her seat to look at the drawing in Jack’s hands. It showed a heavyset man with dark beard scruff and a buzz cut.

“This man was taller than Manta Ray, and he looked hard and tough, you know? Like a thug.”

“Manta Ray is a bit over six foot,” Cam said, “so this man was maybe six foot three?”

Kim nodded. “Yes, he was big. He looked like he worked out in a gym, maybe used steroids. He had big, thick legs that stretched out his jeans, and I remember there was a small tear over his left knee.”

Jack looked down at the drawing. “Too bad he was wearing sunglasses.”

“Yes, but Mr. Pruitt nailed them, though. The lenses were square, perfectly square, with black frames, and they looked weird. He’s the one who handed Manta Ray the cap before he put on his own, so I saw his hair. It was dark brown.”

Chief called out, “Did you see him walk, Kim? Did he seem old? Young?”

Kim twirled her ponytail around her busy fingers while she thought about it. “I only had a fast look at the three of them, but he didn’t seem as old as you, Dad.”

“Thanks, kid. So late thirties?”

She nodded. “I guess so. And he was tanned, at least his face was.”

“Show us the second man,” Jack said.

She pulled out a second drawing. This sketch looked pretty rough. It showed a slender face covered with aviator sunglasses and a dark wool cap pulled low, hiding all the hair.

Kim said, “This guy was lots shorter than the big guy and Manta Ray. Maybe five foot eight, same as me. He looked like he might be in charge, though; well, that was the impression I got. He kind of swaggered, took the lead, expected the other two to follow him. But there was something different about him, the shape of his face, his really sliced-thin cheekbones.” She shrugged. “I thought first he might be foreign, Hispanic maybe, but I’ve been thinking about him a lot, and here’s the thing.” Kim leaned in close. “I’m not so sure it was a he. It might have been a she.”