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Page 15


  His training held, and he stopped, giving her a chance to catch up and grab his harness. Still worried about the tire tracks beside the lane, she took a thirty-foot leash from her utility belt and clipped it on Robo while the car sped past, moving toward Timber Creek. At the same time, a cruiser drove up with its lights flashing and pulled to a stop in the middle of the highway.

  Brody. He’d come to back her up. What a relief to know he would handle traffic while she and Robo did their work. He must have really booked it to get here so fast.

  Brody exited his vehicle and waved her on, giving her the right of way to enter the highway. Mattie left the leash clipped, but now felt free to let Robo go to the end of it out front.

  He trotted on toward the highway while Mattie jogged behind, letting the leash play out about fifteen feet. A growing concern threatened her concentration. The last time she followed Robo on a scent trail, it had ended badly.

  Mattie caught up to Robo and glanced in both directions as they stepped onto the asphalt. No cars, Brody on guard. Robo crossed the black width of asphalt and began sniffing the far side of the road. Quartering back and forth, he swept out a few yards in every direction, coming back to the same spot.

  He sat at the edge of the highway and stared up at Mattie. She thought she knew what he was telling her.

  “Good boy, Robo,” she said, stroking between his ears and putting one hand under his chin as he lifted his head to gaze into her eyes. She used the moment to try to calm herself.

  “This is one end of the scent trail,” she called to Brody. “This must be where Sophie got off the bus. I’m going to see if I can get him to go back now and show us where she went from here.”

  “I’ll move behind you into the lane and block this end.”

  “Perfect. We’ve had enough traffic coming in.” Cole, the sheriff, and her: enough to cover any other tire tracks.

  “Okay, Robo, let’s find Sophie. Search.” Mattie indicated the scent trail by sweeping her hand along where she imagined it lay, in the direction toward the house.

  Robo had become a pro at backtracking a scent trail, and he seemed to know exactly what she wanted. He moved off in the direction from which they’d come, keeping his nose down on a beeline that Sophie’s footsteps must have created earlier. This time though, when they reached the midway point, Robo left the lane and quartered the area. He came back to the smashed grass and sat.

  A black wave of fear made her breath quicken as he raised his eyes to stare into hers. He opened his mouth in a pant, pink tongue showing.

  The scent trail ends here.

  There was no scent trail between here and the house—Robo had picked up Sophie’s scent right here when he’d searched for it earlier. One end of the trail was at the bus stop, the other here, where it looked like a vehicle pulled off the lane and turned around.

  She cleared her throat to loosen the tightness. “Good boy, Robo.” She took a breath and turned to find Brody. He’d left his cruiser at the end of the lane, lights flashing, and he’d walked partway down behind her. She waved him in to join up with them.

  “Her scent trail ends here,” she said.

  A furrow of concern appeared between his brows as he scanned the area and noticed the flattened grass. “Vehicle turned around here.”

  “We need to look for tire prints.”

  “Be careful not to disturb this area.” Eyes to the ground, Brody started to skirt around one side of the smashed grass.

  After putting Robo into a down-stay, Mattie searched the other. She wanted desperately to find prints that might tell them if this vehicle’s tires matched the ones found near Smoker’s Hill. But if they did . . . Mattie knew what that would mean.

  She read the story left by the indentations in the grass and choked out words. “I think someone came down the lane behind her, turned in here to switch directions, and then left the property.”

  “Agreed. There are some partial tire prints between the clumps of grass that we might be able to cast.”

  Mattie looked to where he was indicating and spotted a narrow strip of tread pattern that could possibly be a match for the one found along the highway at the Banks crime scene. She voiced her opinion to Brody.

  He examined the print closely. “It’s hard to say. This one’s not as clear. But . . . maybe.”

  He straightened, looking up and down the lane, scanning the area. “I’m going to tape off this area so no one comes into it. You and Robo go ahead and search the rest of the property. Make sure she’s not here somewhere.”

  Mattie had a feeling in her gut that no matter how hard they searched, they weren’t going to find Sophie. She wasn’t the type to play games. There was no way she was hiding. “All right. We’ve got to make sure, but Brody . . . I’m afraid someone might have taken her.”

  “What if her mom has her? Does she have custody?”

  Mattie swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

  He gave her a curt nod. “Doesn’t matter. We’ve got one child dead and now one missing. I’ll talk to the sheriff about it. This is no time to wait to see if a parent is playing games.”

  “Agreed.”

  Mattie turned back to Robo. She needed to see if he could pick up a scent along the highway, then turn him loose to search the property—that would give her some time before having to go back to deliver this news to Cole.

  Chapter 16

  While Mattie and Robo were searching the property, Cole went back inside to search the house one more time, checking closets and the crawl space. He knew it was wasted effort, but he had to keep himself busy. The dogs followed him everywhere he went, hovering close. He didn’t know if he was projecting his own fears onto them, but they seemed disturbed, and he wished he could determine what they knew. After turning up nothing, he decided there was no reason to wait to call Olivia. If she had Sophie with her, he needed to know, and he needed to know now.

  His ex-wife had quit returning his calls sometime during their first few months of separation, so eventually he’d given up. They hadn’t spoken to one another since last summer. This had caused pain for both him and his daughters, especially around Christmas time, but other than driving to Denver to track her down and force her to talk to her kids, he could think of nothing else to do about it.

  He still had Olivia on his quick-dial list, so he swiped to it and dialed. As expected, there was no answer, and he left a message. “Olivia. This is Cole. I have an important question to ask you about Sophie. Do not ignore this message. This is an emergency. Call me back as soon as you get this.”

  He disconnected the call, swearing softly under his breath. After telling the dogs to wait inside, he stepped out onto the porch and rejoined the sheriff. McCoy was putting his cell phone back inside his pocket.

  “That was Deputy Brody,” McCoy said. “Tess Murphy is down at the end of the lane. Says she’s here to work late-afternoon hours at your clinic.”

  Cole had forgotten all about that. “That’s right. We have two hours of clients scheduled.”

  McCoy’s phone rang again. He held up one finger as he answered it. “Yes . . . all right, just a moment.” He turned to Cole. “Your clients are starting to arrive.”

  Cole looked in the direction of the highway, but shrubbery around his yard blocked his view. “Why are they not coming on down the lane?”

  “Deputy Cobb and Robo have marked out a scent trail, and they’re still working the area. We don’t want anyone to come into it yet.”

  Cole nodded that he understood. Searching his memory, he tried to recall what he’d seen on his schedule from when he’d peeked at it earlier. “I think all we have is routine stuff this afternoon. I need to get down there and talk to those folks, reschedule.” Intending to walk down the lane, he started to move off the porch.

  McCoy restrained him with a firm grip on his arm. “Wait, Cole. Let’s have Tess handle it. Can she call your other clients and tell them not to come?”

  “She won’t have their numbers w
ith her, but I’ve got them on the schedule I have in the truck.”

  McCoy put his phone back to his ear. “Tell Ms. Murphy that we’re going to reschedule clients. Have her wait there and explain it to the ones that arrive. Dr. Walker and I will call the ones we can reach to cancel them.” McCoy disconnected the call. “Let’s get your schedule out of your truck and start calling folks.”

  It was the last thing in the world that Cole wanted to do, but at least it would keep him busy, and he didn’t want to have to deal with a pileup of clients at his doorstep right now. “I’ll go get it,” he said, setting off down the sidewalk toward his truck. McCoy went with him.

  At his truck, Cole opened the door on the passenger side, spotted his book on the seat, and reached for it. As he raised his eyes, he was able to see out the driver’s side window, and down the lane. Midway down, a rectangle of yellow crime scene tape fluttered lightly in the spring breeze. It snatched his breath away.

  Finding his voice, he turned to McCoy. “What . . . what did they find?”

  The serious look on the sheriff’s face scared him almost as much as the yellow tape. “There’s evidence of a vehicle turning there in the road that we want to preserve. We might be able to get some tire prints.”

  “I’ve got to see it,” Cole said. Plucking his schedule book from the seat, he closed the door and headed around the end of the truck out into the lane.

  “Wait, Cole,” McCoy said. “Wait until Deputy Cobb is finished.”

  “My scent’s all over this place. Robo knows the difference between Sophie and me.” Cole kept walking.

  McCoy matched his pace and went with him. “There’s nothing to see but flattened grass and a few partial tire tracks.”

  Cole kept a grim silence, marching down the hard-packed lane until he arrived at the taped-off area. He stayed on the lane, where he knew he’d leave no prints and he wouldn’t disturb the evidence they were trying to preserve. He scanned the ground, searching for dark spots—blood. Not finding any gave him little comfort.

  McCoy stood firm and silent beside him. It was as if the sheriff had decided not to waste his breath on pointless reassurance. Cole met his gaze and connected with a fierce empathy in his eyes.

  “We’ve got to keep our heads clear and find her, Cole.”

  Giving him a brief nod, Cole raised the schedule book slightly and continued down the lane. “I’ll give this to Tess. She’ll take care of the schedule. And then let’s decide what to do.”

  *

  Mattie pulled a pair of latex gloves from a pocket on her utility belt and tugged them on. Robo had found a small piece of white paper fluttering at the base of a clump of rabbit brush. It was a memo about a parent-teacher meeting being held on Wednesday evening in two weeks. Sophie must have been bringing it home.

  Mattie closed her eyes and conjured an image of Sophie carrying the paper as she walked down the lane. A car pulled up beside her, and someone snatched her inside, kicking and fighting; this scrap of paper floated away on the breeze, scudding along the buffalo grass and finally lighting up against the rabbit brush, where it stayed until Robo found it. She opened her eyes, unable to bear following her imagination into the car or even to consider what might have happened next. Feeling light-headed, she put the paper inside an evidence bag.

  Sophie was nowhere to be found. After Mattie cleared the property and gave up on trying to track the suspect car out on the highway, she led Robo over to where Cole stood, holding his cell phone to his ear, beside Sheriff McCoy.

  Cole disconnected the call, shaking his head. “That’s the last parent calling back after I left a message,” he said to the sheriff. “She doesn’t have Sophie either.”

  Cole’s gaze connected with Mattie’s, and she sensed a panic that was just below the surface. Or perhaps she sensed her own.

  “I’ll try Olivia again,” he said, swiping and tapping his phone. With a grim expression, he held the phone to his ear.

  “Olivia,” he said after a moment, relief flooding his face. He took a few steps away from the group and turned his back. “Do you have Sophie with you?”

  His shoulders slumped, and he turned to shake his head at McCoy. “You’re in Denver?” He walked farther away, speaking quietly into the phone.

  Sheriff McCoy beckoned to Mattie with his chin, taking a few steps in the opposite direction. She went with him. “I’ll contact Deputy Brody,” he said, “and we’ll get the Amber Alert out. Detective LoSasso says she can cast the tire prints, and we’ll courier them over to Byers County for comparison.”

  “What about calling out the volunteers to search the roads and area around town?”

  McCoy gave her a sharp look. “You’re thinking what?”

  “I don’t know.” Her heart fluttered, making it hard to take a breath. “What if he released her outside of town? Maybe we could find her.”

  “I’ll make the call. We’ll focus on roadways and the county roads into the wilderness area.”

  A white sedan stopped at the end of the lane, and when a woman with curly gray hair exited the vehicle, accompanied by a slender girl with shoulder-length blond hair, Mattie recognized who it was. “That’s Mrs. Gibbs and Angela, Dr. Walker’s housekeeper and other daughter,” she said to McCoy.

  “Go ahead and explain to them why we have the road blocked. I’ll make the call to activate the volunteers.”

  Telling Robo to heel, she struck off toward the newcomers, arriving just behind Cole, who’d ended his conversation with his ex.

  “What’s going on, Dad?” Angie was saying. “Why are the police here?”

  Cole put his hand out to clasp Angie’s arm, as if he needed to touch her. “When I got home, Sophie wasn’t here,” he said, not wasting time on preparatory comments. “The police are helping me look for her.”

  While Mrs. Gibbs put her hand to her throat, Angie scanned the property, her eyes landing on Mattie. “Maybe she’s still at school?”

  Mattie shook her head. “She got off the bus here.” Unable to continue, she turned to Cole.

  “When I got here,” he said, “she was nowhere to be found.”

  “You weren’t here to meet her?” Angela asked, frowning.

  “I was running late,” he said, his eyes downcast, and Mattie could tell that he felt terrible about it.

  “Dad! I can’t believe you weren’t here to meet the bus.”

  “I should have been here,” Mrs. Gibbs said, stress enhancing her accent, “instead of getting me hair done.”

  Cole raised his hands. “Passing the blame around won’t change the situation, so let’s skip that part. It looks like someone came into the lane and picked her up. That’s why they have the area taped off.”

  Angie seemed to be searching for answers while her eyes swept the property, appearing to avoid the yellow crime scene tape midway down the lane. “Maybe a friend came by to get her.”

  “I’ve tried all the friends I know to call, and she’s not with any of them,” Cole said. “Who would you call? Maybe I missed someone.”

  The three collaborated on Sophie’s friends and came up with the same group that Cole had already contacted.

  “We can probably let you drive by to get to your house soon,” Mattie said to Mrs. Gibbs. “Let me check with the sheriff.”

  “I need to search all of Sophie’s favorite places,” Angie said.

  “Let’s walk.” Cole took Angela by the arm and led her down the lane, talking to her as they went.

  Mattie knew he needed time alone with his older daughter. She and Robo waited beside the car with Mrs. Gibbs while she contacted Sheriff McCoy, who said to stay put until Detective LoSasso arrived. Mattie relayed the information to Mrs. Gibbs and directed her to move her car out of the way and park near the top of the lane.

  Stella drove up in the county’s plain car—a dark-navy Ford sedan—stopped at the top of the lane, and rolled down her window. Mattie joined her.

  “I’ll leave the vehicle here,” Stella said. “Co
uld you help me carry supplies?”

  “Sure.” Mattie heard the trunk pop open as Stella released it, and she went to the back of the vehicle, Robo staying close beside her. Inside were two large plastic tool kits and a jug of water. Stella and Mattie each picked up a case, Mattie grabbed the water, and they set off down the lane.

  “I’ve upgraded that BOLO we have on the Heath Pathfinder to regional,” Stella said while they walked. “Sandy Benson is spreading the word among the forest rangers and the wildlife department. I looked further into Merton Heath. He’s no longer on parole.”

  Which meant he was free to travel about the country as long as he obeyed the law to register his place of residence, which apparently he’d done. They had every right to question him as a person of interest once they found him, but so far, they had nothing else on him.

  All they had was a dead teenager, and now a missing child.

  “The boys we interviewed have been at baseball practice since school let out, present and accounted for. All except Brooks Waverly. His father grounded him. Said he sent him to Hightower to pick up some parts for their tractor. He’s going to call me when Brooks gets home,” Stella said.

  “What is Brooks driving?”

  “The family’s silver Toyota 4Runner.”

  Another silver Jeep-like car. “We can’t wait. Let’s call him on his cell phone.”

  “I thought of that. His dad took it away from him.”

  Mattie let out a breath of frustration along with a quiet curse.

  “He expects him back soon. We’ll go out there and search when he calls me. To add on more bad news, I couldn’t locate Burt Banks, and Juanita doesn’t know where he is.”

  “We know he’s not playing poker,” Mattie said.

  “At least not at Hank Wolford’s place.”

  They arrived at the area marked off with yellow tape, and Stella began searching through it. “This one will do right here.”