Текст книги "Shattered Secrets"

Автор книги: Karen Harper

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

3

“Of course we want to cooperate with the outside authorities, but please run that by me again before I say yay or nay about parading our young maidens before you, Sheriff McCord,” Brice Monson insisted. He had agreed to meet with Gabe that morning in the deserted common room of the largest building in the Hear Ye compound. Monson raised one eyebrow as he examined the photo Gabe showed him.

Gabe had to admit that “Bright Star” Monson’s looks alone could make someone think he was from another world. The man was pale with hair either bleached or prematurely white, and eyes the hue of water. His face was gaunt and his torso thin as though he lived on alien food in this area of homegrown goods. He always wore loose-fitting, draped outfits that reminded Gabe of something a swami would wear—or was that a guru? It was hard to tell the man’s age. His long hair was pulled straight back in a ponytail, which accentuated the shape of his skull. He wore a strip of leather tied around his forehead as if a dark halo had slipped.

“You’re aware, Mr. Monson, of the abductions of two—possibly three—young girls from the area. The most recent loss was of a six-year-old, and that photo of a child in your group greatly resembles her. I’m accusing no one of anything and I realize blonde girls that age can look somewhat alike, but the mother of the missing child is adamant that I look into this, which I’m sure you understand.”

“But all our young maidens are with families,” Monson said, handing the photo back. “I assure you, if someone in our flock had taken such a girl, we would be smitten with confusion and rebuke because we had forsaken the light. But yes, to comfort that mother’s heart, we will allow you to step into the room where that child is, maiden Lorna Rogers. There are two other daughters, if you would like to meet with the parents or their other girls.”

It suddenly seemed like such a wild-goose chase that Gabe almost backed off. But since he thought some sort of mind-control game was going on with the clever, charismatic Monson, he followed him into what looked like an old-fashioned schoolroom at the back of the building. About a dozen girls of the approximate age he’d requested were weaving baskets into which their adult mentors—craft teachers?—were placing bouquets of bloodred bittersweet boughs.

“For our market booth uptown on Saturday,” Monson whispered. Darned if the guy’s voice didn’t make Gabe think of the serpent whispering to Eve in the garden. Did he command control of this place by talking in that low voice instead of yelling?

Once the teachers caught sight of them, they and their young charges stood and bowed slightly to Monson, because Gabe knew it sure wasn’t to him. The girls were all dressed in similar navy blue or brown dresses and reminded him of reruns of Little House on the Prairie. All had long hair pulled straight back from their faces with black cords similar to the one around Monson’s forehead.

“Please, return to your games,” Monson intoned with a single sweep of his right arm. The girls, without a grin or giggle, settled back to their tasks.

Games? Gabe thought. Right away he spotted the girl Marian Bell had been so riled up about. She did resemble Amanda Bell, but, this close, he noticed differences right away. Lorna Rogers was shorter and had not one freckle, while the Bell girl’s nose and cheeks were dusted with them. Still, driven by his need to turn over every rock, he approached the child and the others with her.

“Is that weaving hard to do, Lorna?” he asked.

Her eyes widened as she looked up. She stared at his uniform, especially his badge.

“No, sir,” she replied quietly, still not looking him in the eyes. “It’s lots of fun, and I want to make more baskets for the walnuts too.”

Aside from her distinct freckles, Amanda Bell had green eyes and an obvious lisp. This girl had neither. Gabe nodded and stepped back, realizing Monson had sidled over to hear what was being said. Did everyone whisper around here?

“Thank you for your time and patience,” he told Monson as he started out of the room. “Sorry to have bothered you and the maidens.”

“I’ll see you clear out,” Monson said, and Gabe noted the double meaning of that.

At least he’d learned some things today. Lee and Grace Lockwood were crazier than he thought for coming here to live, letting their boy and girl be part of this. And though Lorna was not Amanda, he definitely didn’t trust Brice Monson.

* * *

Tess drove around Lake Azure, where the Lockwoods used to picnic and play as kids, when they were a family. The wildness of it seemed tamed now with manicured lawns and earth-hued condos set back in landscaped plantings of trees and late-flowering foliage. None of the residences looked the same, some two-story, some ranch, some A-frame. Part of the lake was cordoned off for swimming and paddleboats. Canoes were pulled up on two man-made sand beaches edging the green water. A large, two-story lodge stood at the center of it all. This was a Cold Creek community?

Feeling she didn’t belong there, she drove back into town. She’d already wandered along the new part of Main Street, reading the handwritten menu on the Little Italy Restaurant sign, peeking in Miss Marple’s Tearoom and the Lion’s Head Pub. She’d gone inside the pub because she could see a bulletin board, where she put up one of her posters. That board was a twin to the dartboard that was just inside the door.

“Want a pint or a shandy, luv?” came a very British male voice from inside. “Fish-and-chips be ready straightaway!”

That all sounded good, but she made an excuse and went back outside. No one recognized her at the fire department. The dispatcher was alone since it was all volunteer, but he said the only postings allowed were for duty shifts and schedules. She knew she’d be allowed to put a poster up at the sheriff’s office, so she headed next door. Despite the fact that it wasn’t in the same place and, no doubt, had different people from those who had staffed it years before, her feet began to drag.

She found herself both hoping and dreading that Gabe would be there. Her stomach did a weird little flip-flop at the thought of him.

Inside, a young, pretty brunette sat behind the front desk. “Can I help you?” she asked with a smile.

“I was just wondering if I could put up a poster for a house for sale if you have a public bulletin board. I told the sheriff I’d be putting some up around town.”

“Oh,” she said, rising. “I’m his day dispatcher, Ann Simons. Are you Teresa Lockwood?”

“Yes. I go by Tess now.”

“Oh, right. So I heard. Sure, I got the idea Sheriff McCord wouldn’t mind. You passed the board we use in the entryway there if you can find a place for your sign,” she said, pointing. “I don’t keep it very up to date, and please ignore the Most Wanted posters on it. We’re glad to have you back for a little while, Tess.”

“Thanks. People have been very kind.” She headed for the corkboard, then turned around. “Ann, if you hear of anyone who needs a solidly built house just outside town, then—”

The front door banged open, barely missing Tess. A woman flipped her long blond hair back over her shoulder with a metallic clatter of bracelets. She wore knee-high boots with fringed cuffs, tight black leather pants and an orange brocade jacket. Her face looked too old for the hair or the clothes—or was her rough complexion just the result of too much sun? Tess wondered if maybe she was a regular at Marva’s tanning salon.

“Is he back yet?” the woman demanded of Ann.

“No, but I’m sure you’ll be the first to hear if there is anything to know,” Ann replied calmly.

The woman huffed out a sigh as her shoulders drooped. “I’ll wait. That’s all I do now, wait. And study the other cases and find similarities despite the differences the sheriff’s been preaching to me.”

She collapsed on the pine bench in the waiting area, hunched over and swung her suitcase-sized orange leather purse between her legs. Tess watched her out of the corner of her eye. The woman looked Tess’s way and exploded again.

“You’re Teresa Lockwood, aren’t you?” she cried, jumping to her feet. “I mean, of course you’ve changed, but I’ve studied the old newspaper pictures and articles in the library so long and– You are, aren’t you? I don’t mean to startle you,” she said as she hurried toward Tess, “but my daughter’s disappeared too. If you could just help me, I’m desperate for word of her. Here, let me show you her picture—I mean, you were younger when you were taken, but you are both blonde, and the sheriff—”

“Marian,” Ann said, stepping between the two of them, “why don’t you just sit down and wait for Sheriff McCord?”

“Because I said I’m desperate and I am! Surely this woman can help me find my girl if she can just recall what happened to her years ago.”

“Come on now,” Ann cajoled, tugging on Marian’s arm. “Let’s have some coffee and calm down. Deputy Miller or the sheriff will be back soon, and—”

“Calm down? I need to talk to her—to you, Ms. Lockwood,” she cried, peering over Ann’s shoulder.

Tess was shaking. Had her own mother been this berserk when she was lost? Her heart went out to this woman—Marian—even though she wanted to flee. She finally found her voice.

“I’m sorry,” she told the woman, “but the sheriff, like his father before him, knows all I could tell. I came back, so I hope and pray your daughter will too, and then—”

“Amanda Bell. Her name is Amanda, and I’m Marian Bell. I live up in Lake Azure on Pinecrest if you recall anything at all—where you were kept, anything!”

“I don’t,” Tess whispered, more to herself than to the others. She didn’t, did she? No, of course not. If she did, it would help find the other—now two?—missing girls. It could lead to Gabe’s solving the case. It would end the horror that still haunted her like a monster just out of reach, trying to devour her. But, God help her, she could not recall a thing that would lead to anyone or any place.

Tess saw she still held the poster in her hand and quickly stuck it to the board between an announcement about a charity auction and a bank robbery in Chillicothe, the largest nearby city. She opened the door and went out into the brisk, sunny day, feeling assaulted, as though her soul had been shredded by that woman. Yet she forgave and understood her. Being recognized and interrogated like that—it was one of her worst fears about coming back.

Tess had started for her car when she heard a voice behind her.

“Hey, Tess, I thought that was your car. How’s it going, putting up posters?”

She turned to face Gabe as he caught up with her.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, his piercing eyes scanning her face. He put a gentle hand on her arm. He wasn’t wearing his hat, and the wind ruffled his mussed hair. “Were you in my office? Did Ann say something to upset you? I told her you might be in.”

“Marian Bell recognized me. She’s distraught, demanded I remember things I just can’t.”

“I’m sorry. She gets out of control, but I—”

“Understand why,” she finished with him. “I guess I was thinking about how it must have been for my mother as well as me. One thing I’m sure of. I must have felt forsaken when I was abducted and gone so long, like I was abandoned. I never really thought how devastated my family must have been—only that they didn’t come for me. I guess that was selfish.”

“Don’t think that way. You were a little girl. You were so young you might not even have formed memories into words at that point, and so you can’t recall things in words now.”

“Sounds like you’ve been reading up on it.”

“Over the years. Especially lately. I’m sorry you ran into Marian or vice versa. I’m going to have to break her heart again, set her off on another tirade. I followed a lead she gave me today that didn’t pan out. Her daughter, an only child she had late in life, was taken about four months ago and ever since, she’s been seeing her behind every tree, so to speak. But I’ll be sure she leaves you alone. I should have prepped her for you being back. If worse comes to worst, I’ll get a restraining order on her. Let me walk you to your car. Were you leaving?”

“I am now. Thanks for everything, Gabe.”

She unlocked her car door, and he opened it for her. “Don’t thank me for anything,” he said, “unless I get the bastard who’s been doing this.” Despite his words, his voice was deep and quiet, even soothing. She felt as if she almost stood in his protective embrace since he had one hand on the car roof and one on the open door while she stood there. She sank quickly into the driver’s seat, and he leaned down toward her.

Not looking at him but staring at her hands gripping the steering wheel, she spoke. “I want you to know I don’t blame you for my being...being lost that day. You told me not to run into the cornfield, but I didn’t listen, didn’t obey, even though my mother told me you were in charge. I just needed to say it, because I’m not sure I ever told you or your dad.”

“You remember that? I do too, but I still shouldn’t have been so angry that I paid no attention to the little scream you gave. Even when I decided to just ignore your antics and you didn’t speak again, I thought that was just the little tomboy next door carrying on, bugging me more. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone about our little argument either, including my dad.”

“But– I did? I screamed? I don’t recall a thing after you yelled at me and I ran through the corn rows.”

“I’m not pressing you to remember more. Sorry, if Marian Bell’s doing the yelling now. I’d better go in and break the bad news to her. Listen, call me if you need anything.”

“And if I remember anything else?”

“Yeah, of course, but no pressure from me. Keep in touch, okay? And good luck with selling the house. I’ll mention it to the mayor, since he sees lots of folks every day. He’s been in office for years now. He knows everyone.”

He extended his hand. She took it, and they shook. Despite the stiff, brisk breeze, his skin was warm, his touch strong. She needed that and gravitated to it when she didn’t want to. She had steered clear of romantic complications in her life because she just didn’t want to get close to anyone that way. And, of all people, for many reasons, Gabe McCord was way out of bounds.

He stood back and closed her car door. She started the engine and rolled down her window to say goodbye, even though they’d probably said all there was to say. She heard the crackle of his radio as words came over it.

He gasped and stepped back. “Gotta go. Marian Bell will have to wait,” he said. She thought he’d head for his car, but he ran down the street toward the old part of town.

Tess sat stock-still, watching him in the rearview mirror. Tomorrow was the twentieth anniversary of the day she’d disappeared. And what she’d overheard made her want to cover her head, curl up and scream. “Jace here, Gabe. Four-year-old Sandy Kenton’s gone missing from her mother’s gift shop!”

4

Gabe felt as if a bomb blast had gone off close to his head. His ears were ringing, his head felt as though it would split, his lungs ached. In Iraq, he’d been thrown ten yards and suffered torn nerve connections from an explosion. Now his own blast of fury and panic propelled him down the street to the Creekside Gifts shop. He almost hurtled through the door. Woo-ooo, a haunted house automatic recording went off, followed by witchlike cackling.

He didn’t see Jace, but the store manager, Lindell Kenton, Sandy’s mother, was slumped over the checkout desk halfway back in the store. Gabe brushed aside fake cobwebs and two suspended mannequins dressed as witches. Lindell sat on a tall stool behind the counter. Her tear-streaked face tilted toward Gabe.

“It can’t be,” she said, and started to sob. Her face was red, her eyes swollen. “She was just playing in the back room, like always. She...she just disappeared when I answered the phone here. Win’s on his way. This can’t...can’t be happening. Not now. Never!”

Gabe knew she was referring to the time of year. The two previous kidnappings had also occurred in October, though ten years apart. Tomorrow was the date Tess had been taken. He’d been planning to keep an eye on her and things in town. He’d always treated October 13 as a day to be careful—in short, be wary of copycats, protect people and places. But now this.

Jace appeared from the back room, shoving his way through two dangling ghosts made of sheets. “I’ve been up and down the back alley,” he called to Gabe. “Next, I’ll check all the stores and buildings on this side of the street.”

“Go start that. I want Lindell to walk me through everything.”

But he followed Jace to the back door, relieved to see he’d used rubber bands to fasten small paper sacks over both door handles to preserve possible prints. “And, Jace,” he called after him, “check the alley Dumpsters and the creek out back. It’s shallow enough there to see into. But we’ll have to drag it to the east where it gets deep.”

“Her mother says she wouldn’t leave the building.”

“But she did—one way or the other.”

As Gabe hurried back into the front room, Lindell started speaking. “It was just a normal day.” Her voice was nasally and thick with crying. Gabe put his hand over hers, gripped on the counter. “Normal—I mean that we do this two days a week when she’s not at my sister’s house with her kids. She plays here, helps me,” she said, and dissolved into sucking sobs.

“Okay, Lindell, you’ve got to help me. We’ll find her. Don’t jump to conclusions,” he insisted, though he was jumping to them too, despite the fact that the other girls had been taken more or less from their backyards. “There’s a lot of stuff in here for Halloween and probably more things in the back. Could she be hiding? Could she have hit her head and knocked herself out? Come on, take me to the last place you saw her and talk me through it. Don’t leave anything out.”

Still shaking her head at his questions, she got up from the stool. Her cell phone on the counter rang. She jumped to answer it. Gabe moved closer to hear.

“Just a customer,” she whispered.

“Tell them there’s an emergency, and you’re closed. Hang up but keep the phone on and with you.”

She did what he said. Her voice quavered on the word emergency as she talked to the customer. “Maybe we’ll get a ransom call,” she said when she hung up. “I pray to God it’s someone who wants to give her back for money.”

Looking dazed, Lindell led him into the back storage room. It was a maze of stacked boxes, costumes and masks laid out on a worktable. He knew a lot of local folks would buy their costumes and candy at the big Walmart on the highway, but this was a popular place too, even with the Lake Azure residents. They always had a huge costume party here for Halloween, so, no doubt, a lot of people could have been in here and seen Sandy, cute, blonde, friendly, probably trusting.

In another area he saw shelves with small Christmas trees, cloth Santas and carved manger scenes. Halloween isn’t even here yet, Gabe thought as he concentrated on what she was saying and showing him.

He’d known Lindell and her husband, Winston, for as long as he could remember. Elementary school and beyond; they were three years ahead of him in school. The Kentons had been high school sweethearts, prom king and queen. Win worked for the state park system; Lindell ran this shop. They had two boys in middle school, then Sandy, their baby. Damn, if this was another of the abductions that had haunted this place for twenty years. The sign on the road into town that touted the scenic nature and friendly folks ought to also read Home of the Cold Creek Kidnapper.

* * *

Tess knew she couldn’t go home right away. Her thoughts were racing. It was almost the day she was taken. But if it was another of the abductions, this time it was from a gift shop in town. Perhaps this terrible event wasn’t related to her abduction at all.

She forced herself to stop at the Kwik Shop, where she bought a sack of freshly baked donuts for Gracie and Lee, a box of chocolate chip cookies for Kelsey and animal crackers for Ethan. She had gifts for them at the house, but she’d have to deliver them later, because she could not face her house in the clutches of the cornfield right now. She didn’t take the time to buy anything she needed for herself, but paid, got back in her car and drove straight past her house to the Hear Ye Commune about two miles down Valley View. She had to see little Kelsey and Ethan, put her arms around them, know that they were safe. That way, wouldn’t she feel safer too?

When she turned in at the compound, she saw a hand-carved wooden sign that read Hear Ye, While There Is Yet Time!

A dirt lane led to a small parking lot outside the main fence. She turned in with the words echoing in her head. While there is yet time. If the young girl in town had been taken, how much time was left to find her before she was driven out of the area, spirited away to be gone for months, maybe forever? Gabe and his deputy must be looking for her in town, but wouldn’t the girl’s abductor flee for the hills or some rural place to hide her?

Without stopping, Tess turned the car around and drove right back out onto the road. There was surely safety in numbers inside the compound, where Kelsey and Ethan would be warm, watched, loved. But somewhere out on some road, there could be a child, taken away, hidden, a little girl, shivering and too scared to cry.

Tess knew she had to drive these roads looking for something—anything! And she was going past Dane Thompson’s house and pet cemetery first.

* * *

As the minutes passed, Gabe could almost hear a clock in his head, one with an alarm clanging. Sandy’s father, Win Kenton, had arrived and was pacing and shouting. Lindell was still crying. She’d gone berserk in the storage room when they found the Barbie doll Sandy always kept with her. Gabe had to physically remove her in case there were clues in the clutter.

In the past half hour, Gabe had called in the BCI, the Bureau of Criminal Identification and Investigation, from near London, Ohio, up by Columbus. They’d been helpful on the other cases, though they’d never found the abducted girls. But they could provide forensic help, which a small, rural district could not afford. He’d notified the State Highway Patrol, even though he had no clue what sort of vehicle might be involved.

Jace had said there was no sign of the girl in the creek, at least nearby. They had the volunteer fire department dragging the eastern part where it got deep. Jace was still talking to store owners and shoppers to find out if anyone had seen something suspicious. That helped to spread the word, including that the sheriff was forming a civilian search team of the area in one hour’s time. The meeting place was the parking lot by the sheriff’s office and fire department. It had not escaped Gabe that this abduction had taken place in the building that used to be the sheriff’s office. Surely that had not been a perverted challenge or insult. But what if the kidnapper had chosen this site on purpose?

He walked away from the Kentons and called Ann on his radio. Before he could say a word, she blurted, “Marian Bell wants to offer a huge reward for any information leading to the recovery of her daughter and or Sandy Kenton. She’s still here, refuses to leave.”

“Better there than here, but it’s too early for a reward. Listen, call Peggy in too, wake her up. You two are going to have to help each other on the phones over the next twenty-four hours in case any info comes in. And a BCI unit is on their way. I’ll talk to the FBI later, but I don’t want them taking over, and there’s never been a shred of proof anyone’s been taken across state lines. Actually Tess Lockwood coming back alive only about seven miles from where she was taken weighs in against that.”

“I’ll call my brothers to help with the search as soon as I get to Peggy,” Ann said.

Peggy Barfield was Gabe’s night dispatcher, an older woman than Ann. Poor Peggy had probably only gotten about four hours of sleep. But this was—at least it could be—war. He hated ordering Ann around so brusquely, and was reminded he’d done a dumb thing with her. They’d been dating, when he knew better than to mix business with pleasure. Worse, he wasn’t that serious about Ann, but she—and her three local, redneck brothers—had it in their heads that Gabe should be proposing about now.

“Okay, Gabe, got it,” Ann said. “I’ll start making lots of coffee. I’ve got the urns here for the charity auction. You take care of yourself, for the possible victim, the community—and me.”

“Talk to you later. Let people wait inside if they show up early for the volunteer search.”

For the possible victim, the community—and me, she’d said. Now there was a motto for a reelection poster, but that was the least of his worries right now. How about adding For the first victim too—Tess Lockwood? When she heard about this would she be stoic or distraught? Would it trigger any memories? If only he could be there to comfort her when she eventually heard.

Damn. He spotted Mayor Owens hustling across the street toward the store, looking really steamed. Having him around was the last thing Gabe needed.

* * *

Tess slowed as she passed Dane Thompson’s house and vet clinic. She could see the fenced-in pet cemetery beyond the back lawn with its separate drive. Of course, the size of the cemetery had grown a lot from what she recalled. Once, before she was abducted, Char and Kate had taken her the entire length through the cornfield to read the tombstones—the names and quotes about the buried pets. There had been a few photos too, embedded into the marble monuments, but nothing like the electronic resurrection of pets Marva had mentioned.

Though she was trembling already, Tess shuddered at the memory of pictures of dead pets—some even after death, made to look natural, as if they were asleep. Or were they ones that had been stuffed and mounted by Dane’s taxidermist friend? Pushing thoughts of dead pets aside, Tess wondered if the kidnapper was getting so desperate that he took a child from a store in town? And if Marian Bell’s daughter was kidnapped only four months ago—she didn’t know any details of that abduction—the crimes were a lot closer together than hers and the second girl, Jill Stillwell’s, had been.

And why pick on one little town, one small, rural area? It had to be because the kidnapper knew it well, probably lived here. So, did he keep his victims nearby? Why didn’t he go to Chillicothe or Columbus, where there were more victims available and no one would recognize him? Her mother had said once that Gabe’s dad had tried to check for similar kidnappings, but no other statewide or nationwide crimes had the same circumstances. Now, this missing girl’s situation didn’t match the first two either.

Tess saw that the same huge cornfield that backed up to her house still ended behind the Thompson property. Like many of the large fields nearby, it was owned and farmed by a wealthy local man using huge, mechanical planters and reapers. That deep, dark cornfield abutting the Lockwood property was one reason Dane had been on the list of persons of interest when Tess was taken. That and the fact that people just plain considered him a bit weird. He’d never married, had stayed out of public life and, with his close friend, a taxidermist named John Hillman, had always been fascinated by dead animals. And for some reason she could not explain, Tess admitted she had an instinctive dislike and fear of this place.

She didn’t see the white van parked anywhere around, but she did see Marva raking leaves at the side of the house. Tess turned around at the next intersection and drove back. She wouldn’t go into the house, the clinic, of course, especially not the cemetery, but she could drive in and chat with Marva. Indirectly, she could learn if Dane was home or where he was. It would be something to help Gabe, because she could never help him in the way everyone thought and hoped she could—by remembering any details about what had happened to her.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she drove slowly up the paved driveway. She reached for the sack of donuts she had bought for Gracie and Lee and got out.

“Oh, Teresa—I mean Tess,” Marva called, obviously surprised to see her. She stopped raking. “Is this a return visit already, or do you have a pet who needs help? Dane’s not here right now—house calls at Lake Azure and someplace else.”

So Dane was out in his van somewhere while a new girl was missing. Gripping the sack in front of her, Tess walked closer. Dried leaves rustled under her feet. Did she remember this place? The farmhouse, the garage and clinic building? No, but she did recall being pulled through the pet gravestones here, didn’t she? Or was that the memory of when Dane yelled at her and her sisters and they fled? What a shock it would be if she’d spent the eight months of her captivity so close to home.

“You were just so kind to bring me that delicious coffee cake, and I saw these fresh-baked donuts in town, Marva. After all, we are neighbors of the same cornfield.”

“Why, yes, we are. I didn’t expect one thing back in kind, but I thank you.” She peeked in the bag. “Dane loves this kind, and coming from you, he’ll be extra pleased.”

“Why is that?” Tess asked, annoyed her voice quavered.

“Didn’t anyone tell you that some busybodies blamed him at first when you disappeared? This will mean to him that you certainly don’t believe that false drivel and slander. Why, he’s dedicated himself to protecting life, not harming anyone. Won’t you step inside?”

Tess shook her head and stepped back a bit. She considered telling Marva that another child was missing, just to see her reaction. She should probably agree to step into the house, even to wait to talk to Dane, but she was suddenly filled with the need to get out of here.

She’d have to tell Gabe what she’d done and learned. Marva was outside as if nothing had happened, but Dane was out somewhere—and with his van. Perhaps someone had spotted him uptown today. Maybe he’d have an alibi. Guilt and fear aside, Tess knew deep down she’d be best staying out of all this, for her own safety and sanity. So what was she doing here on the property of the man many suspected was the Cold Creek kidnapper?