29
Luther banged on the door until his knuckles hurt. Goddammit, Les, answer.
It was almost exactly the middle of the day. His brother ought to damn well be up by now, even on a Sunday. Luther hunched his shoulders against a sudden brisk wind. He hoped the weather wasn’t about to take a turn, too. That was the last thing they needed.
He’d snuck in a couple of hours of sleep the night before, but Luther was getting pretty close to running on empty. And empty was a common theme in the investigation right now. They’d found nothing to point them toward anyone besides Adam. Two officers from a neighboring county had let an elderly man and someone matching Adam’s description past their roadblock last night, but his colleagues thought it was a coincidence, someone who happened to look like Ada
