"Wen Spencer - Ukiah 3 - Bitter Waters" - читать интересную книгу автора (Spencer Wen)

"No problem," Ari said. "You two really weaseled out of there fast; not that I blame you, the first
of the media was already showing up. Hey, that reminds me though. There's a new federal agent in town
asking questions about the shootout."
"Federal agent? What branch?"
Ari grunted and searched his pockets for a business card. "Grant Hutchinson. Homeland
Security. He pulled me into questioning on Friday. He had photographs of you two."
"Us?" Max asked as Ukiah glanced up, startled out of his focus. Max flashed the business card
so Ukiah could see it and then studied it himself. "What kind of photos?"
"Professional photographer's photos, really high-quality stuff. Most of the pictures were of you
guys, but he had one of me. He wanted me to ID you two."
"Did he say why?" Max asked as Ukiah went back to tracking.
Ari made a rude noise. "No. Not a clue. He kept me in interrogations for an hour, asking
everything from my religion down to if my belly button was an innie or an outie."
"What did you tell him about us?" Max asked.
"Your names," Ari said. "That the kid is a tracking wonder and that you two were out in Oregon,
trying to find Kraynak's niece. I don't know any more than that, other than, as far as I've ever heard or
seen, you're good people."
"Thanks," Max said. "Friday, eh?"
"Friday afternoon, just after I went on shift," Ari said.
As Max questioned Ari about the federal agent, Ukiah finally found the trace he had been
searching for: the rich earth of the hillside stamped into the shape of a small shoe print. All but crawling,
he followed the track down the street another hundred feet before it vanished. He crouched in the
drumming rain, patiently sweeping the cement with his fingertips. The chill of the night vanished for him, as
did the beat of the rain. The distant hiss of tires on wet pavement silenced. Even the light went as he
focused in tight on the rough cement. He became aware of the sand versus gravel content. The faint feel
of bird tracks left from a sparrow crossing the newly poured cement sometime in the far past.
Nothing of the boy.
He flicked through his other senses. Unless he found something here, the trail was gone. He could
begin a spiral search pattern, hoping to stumble across a new start, but in the rain, every minute made the
chance less likely.
Fine-tuned, he realized he was drawing in air ever so faintly tainted by blood. He stilled
completely, aimed at the scent. It pressed against his skin, invaded his nose. Locked onto the smell, he
sniffed, nostrils flaring, casting about dog-like. Slowly, he worked his way to a corrugated pipe set into
the ground where a side alley joined the main road. Water ran in a tiny stream down the street and into
the mouth of the pipe. No water, he noticed, poured out of the pipe on the other side of the alley.
"Kyle? Kyle?" he called into the pipe. His voice echoed back at him.
Under the sound of rain and rushing water and his own heartbeat, he thought he could hear the
faint ragged breathing of something small.
"You found him?" Max came to crouch beside him. Ari trailed behind.
"I think he's in this pipe." Ukiah considered crawling into the drain. No, only a small child would
fit. He examined the narrow darkness with his flashlight. "It's T-shape with a drain in the center. If he's in
there, he's down the center pipe somehow. There's so much white noise with the rain that I can't be sure.
I'm smelling blood."
He sniffed again, drawing in the coppery smell. Blood, but not enough information to tell the
source.
 Ari shifted restlessly behind them. "It could be a wounded raccoon or possum."
"You said he got into weird places," Ukiah countered.
Ari eyed the pipe as if it would bite him. "Yeah, but, shit, that's a creepy little hole in the ground."
Max stood and swept his flashlight back up the hill to the boy's yard. "His brother told me that
they had been playing with a ball, throwing it back and forth. If the ball landed on this street, it would