Missing in Conard County Read online

  It still seemed odd that no one had anything negative to say. She hadn’t been in high school for a while, but she easily remembered the cliques and the gossip and the way some of the students had avoided others like the plague.

  These three girls were unusual in their pursuits. Not cheerleaders, the perennially popular, but nerds. Chess club? Debate club? Soccer, and not even first string? Either they’d become basically invisible or no one today had wanted to mention the petty kinds of comments students like them often drew.

  She bet it was the latter. She’d seen their photos. Nerds or not, they were all pretty enough to attract attention at a hormonally driven age.

  Sighing, she fluffed her damp hair a little with her fingers and decided she needed to eat before she took a complete plunge. This entire situation was so upsetting, and she’d never dealt well with the feeling of helplessness. Right now she felt helpless. Closing her eyes, she could all too easily imagine those girls out there somewhere, terrified out of their minds.

  Someone had taken them. She believed that now after Al’s recognition that the car hadn’t braked before going off the road. And for all three of them to have been taken? Drugs.

  She felt her heart lift a bit, leaving the worst of her despair behind when there was a rap on the door. She opened it and Al stood there. He spoke before she could even greet him. “I was thinking about picking up dinner for us if I’m not becoming a nuisance. You interested?”

  “Already done. Come on in. There’s plenty. How’d the search go?”

  He was cold enough that when she stood near him she could feel his body sucking the heat from the air. He tossed off his gloves and parka and knelt before her fireplace. “You mind?”

  “I was thinking about doing it.”

  “Then let me. I need it. You know, like a candle in the dark.”

  She felt her heart and stomach both plummet. “Nothing?”

  “Not a damn thing. A glove? A shoe? A scarf? Nope. Not even that much. You?”

  “If anyone ever had a mean thing to say about those girls, we didn’t hear it today. Tomorrow we’ll talk to some teachers, too, but I’m not sure it’s going to make any difference.”

  The dry logs he piled into the fireplace started quickly. He tossed the match onto the flames and remained squatting, holding his hands out toward the fire, lost in thought.

  After a few minutes, she asked, “Hungry?”

  “Famished,” he admitted. A couple of seconds later he stood and came to the bar to help her unload the bags. “You went all out.”

  “I was seeking comfort,” she admitted. And hoping he might stop by, but she didn’t want to tell him that.

  “You don’t have to explain that to me,” he agreed.

  Tonight she brought out dishes. They had a lilac pattern on them, leftovers from her mother’s collection that she’d never bothered to add to. A few dinner plates, salad plates and bowls remained. Enough for two people, at a pinch maybe three.

  She’d skipped the steak sandwiches and instead had asked Maude for containers of tomato soup and thick grilled cheese sandwiches. More comfort food.

  “Ah, man,” Al said, “I love Maude’s grilled cheese. It’s like eating Texas toast covered in melted Havarti. She seasons them, too. I hope you like dill.”

  “Love it. That’s one of the reasons I decided to try them.”

  “It’s a hit and I haven’t taken my first bite.”

  The soup was rich and surprisingly good, Kelly thought. She wasn’t the biggest fan of tomato soup but Maude’s might change her mind.

  Sitting at the bar with Al, feeling the heat from the fireplace warming her back, it was almost possible to believe everything was normal.

  It was not.

  She ate quickly, trying not to think about whether the missing students were eating anything tonight, whether they were warm enough, whether they were being terrorized. Later, she told herself, forcibly squashing the thoughts. They could talk about all this mess after they finished eating.

  One of her previous partners had scolded her for losing her appetite. “You owe it to the victim to keep yourself in the best functioning shape possible.”

  But sometimes it was hard. Sometimes her whole body and mind wanted to rebel at the idea that anything, anything, could be normal in a situation like this.

  Al kept the conversation general and light. She gave him credit for that because her attempts to respond in the same vein weren’t exactly stellar.

  She looked at Al. “After Connie and I talk to the teachers tomorrow, I want to go back to Rusty’s tavern.”

  He raised a brow. “Yeah?”

  “Everything seems to have started there, doesn’t it? And they said they’d make a list of everyone who was there that night.”

  Al nodded slowly. “I’ll go with you, if you don’t mind.”

  Why would she mind? If police work had taught her nothing else, it had taught her that two brains were often better than one.

  Settled in her plan, she resumed eating.

  * * *

  CLOSER THAN KELLY would have believed, and yet farther than it seemed possible, two girls awoke in a darkened basement, chilled to the bone despite the ragged blanket that had been tossed over them.

  A single movement, and Chantal cried out. “Wire,” she said. “Oh, God, wire.” Her wrists and ankles were bound and every movement of the thin, bare wire cut at skin. “Mary Lou? Jane?”

  “Me, too,” answered Jane, her voice thick as if she’d been crying. “He drugged us again. Chantal, I don’t think I can go without water, but it must have been in the water bottles.”

  “Yeah.” Probably. Chantal’s mind recoiled, then seemed to stiffen. “Mary Lou? Mary Lou?”

  “I don’t think she’s here,” Jane answered, her voice breaking. “She was right beside me earlier. Now she’s not answering.”

  Helplessly, ignoring the cutting pain in her wrists, Chantal edged closer to Jane. “She’s gone?”

  Jane seemingly didn’t even want to answer. After a few seconds she said in a cracked whisper, “Maybe she got knocked out more than we did.”

  “Shh,” whispered Chantal. “Hold your breath and listen.”

  But there was no other sound in the dank space, not so much as soft breaths. A tomb couldn’t have been any more silent.

  Mary Lou was gone. But to where and for what?

  “Oh my God,” Jane whispered. “Oh my God. What did we do, Chantal?”

  “That’s not going to help,” Chantal whispered fiercely. “We’ve got to get our heads working again. There’s got to be something we can do now.” She had to believe that. Never once in her life had she simply given up, even when a situation looked hard. Like trying out for the soccer team. She didn’t have any real athletic ability, but she’d wanted to do it anyway because it was the kind of activity that was good for college applications. So she’d practiced until she’d become good enough to make the second string. Because she refused to be defeated by her own mind.

  She believed in her ability to conquer the difficult, and she was trying to believe she could conquer this, as well.

  But the wire around her wrists and ankles gave lie to that. Hopelessness, as cold and dank as the dark room, settled over her.

  * * *

  REVE HAD HAD ENOUGH. Maybe taking the three girls had seemed like a good idea at the time, but the one he’d just dealt with... No fun at all.

  Well, he’d have no more to do with her. He still had two more and if he was careful, they’d probably work better. But he was going to keep them tied up in the dark longer, and keep them a whole lot hungrier. By the time he got done, they’d think he was their savior. Yeah.

  In the meantime, he needed to ditch this one. Driving down back roads in the dark with his headlights off wasn’t a whole lot of fun, but he was wary they might resume the
helicopter search. They seemed to have called it off at dusk, though. Giving up, he supposed.

  He didn’t go far out of town, maybe ten miles. He knew of some wide-open ranchland that hadn’t been used in years, and it would provide the perfect place to dump whatshername. Trash. That’s all she was now.

  He didn’t bother to wrap her in anything. The last thing he wanted was for her body to be protected from the elements or scavengers. Nope, she’d come into this world as naked as a jaybird, and she was going out the same way.

  The hard ground aided him, leaving behind almost no sign of his passing. When he got far enough from the road, he stopped.

  Damn, she’d grown heavy. Or maybe he was just hurting.

  Didn’t matter. She was knocked out and would stay that way just long enough. With a grunt, he rolled her naked body into a ditch. Cold as this night was, she’d be dead almost before she woke up.

  Then he dragged a couple of tumbleweeds over her, checking to make sure the ditch wouldn’t let them blow away too easily.

  In a week or so, she’d be nothing but bones. As for her clothes...he had a woodstove to burn them. No sign she’d ever been anywhere near his place.

  As for the other two...that abandoned, run-down house was perfect, with a solid basement but everything else going to hell. Nobody ever went there. Not even kids looking for a thrill. In a few years there’d be nothing left of the house except the hollowed-out basement.

  Turning slowly, he drove away, making sure he didn’t leave any deep tracks behind him. He stuck to old tractor ruts, hard as rock in the dry winter. He wouldn’t stir up anything noticeable, and once it snowed there’d be absolutely nothing to see.

  The winter had aided him, he thought. Traditionally the area didn’t get a whole lot of snow and what it did was dry and blew around. The last couple of years had been unusual with heavier snows, but not this year. Here they had reached January with nothing but a few light flurries that hadn’t stuck. That wouldn’t last, but it had lasted long enough for this job.

  Damn, he ached from that kick. He’d have liked to treat her to a bit of a beating, but he was trying not to leave evidence, and even if all they ever found were her bones, assuming the wolves or coyotes didn’t drag them away, they’d be able to tell she’d been hurt before dying.

  Nope, teen girl freezes to death in January on the high plains of Wyoming. Wouldn’t be the first. No clothes meant only that the carrion eaters had pulled them apart and dragged them away. It kind of amused him to think of the hours that would be wasted seeking scraps of cloth.

  He realized he was thirsty and decided to go to Rusty’s for a beer or two. He went several times a week and no one would notice him, except maybe for Spence and Jeff, if they were there and wanted to play pool. He had a life.

  And the life provided cover.

  * * *

  CHANTAL AWOKE SUDDENLY. The jarring movement reminded her of the wire cutting painfully into her wrists and ankles. She drew a long breath, steadying herself, letting the pain wash over her and then away. Beside her, Jane still slept, a quiet snore escaping her. This basement was causing her allergies to act up, uncomfortable for Jane when she couldn’t even blow her nose.

  But those quiet snores hadn’t wakened her. She listened intently but heard only the lonely sound of the wind. If their captor had come and left more food and water, she didn’t know. Not that she wanted any of it now.

  A headache pounded behind her eyes, either from hunger or from the drug they’d been given...when? She didn’t even know how long ago they’d been knocked out and Mary Lou had disappeared.

  All of a sudden she understood why people would find a way to scratch hash marks for days into the walls of their prisons. Except in here she could not be sure what was night and what was day. There was absolutely no way to keep track of time. That could prove maddening, she realized. As maddening as the endless night that swallowed them.

  She stared into the unyielding dark and tried to think of something they might be able to do. Some way to put an end to this. She knew well enough that without shoes and jackets they wouldn’t make it very far in the Wyoming winter weather. But some other way, because right now escape looked impossible.

  Then, out of nowhere, a deep sorrow welled up in her and as if she’d seen it with her own eyes, she felt the truth in her very bones.

  Mary Lou was dead.

  She had to stifle a cry, to bite her lip until she tasted blood. How could she know? How could it be?

  But she knew. And she didn’t want Jane to know.

  * * *

  MILES AWAY, Kelly jerked out of a sound sleep. Bugle, who’d been snoring beside her, lifted his head. The small night-light glowed, her protection against jumping out of bed in the dark for an emergency call and barking her shins or tripping. In that light she could see Bugle’s focus. He’d become alert, very alert.

  She listened, hearing nothing but the night wind and the occasional crackle from the banked fire in the living room.

  Then Bugle made a sound she almost never heard from him. It came from deep within him, a low groan, not a growl, and it sounded so incredibly forlorn that it seemed laced with sorrow. But over what? A bad dream?

  Then he put his head on her belly and whimpered softly.

  Knowledge crashed in on her. She knew what had wakened her so unexpectedly and what Bugle was trying to tell her. She knew why she felt her chest squeezing as if it wanted to silence her heart.

  One of the girls was dead.

  Chapter Six

  Day 4

  His phone rang well before dawn. Al was used to it. He had no set hours and folks knew they could call him if their animal escaped in this dangerous weather. He didn’t mind at all. Saving animals was one way he could make up for a bunch of things he’d done that he never wanted to remember. Besides, he generally believed that animals were kinder than people. Certainly more forgiving.

  He threw back the comforter, slapped his stockinged feet on the rough would floor and leaned forward to grab the receiver for the landline. “Animal Control. Carstairs.”

  “She’s dead.”

  He recognized Kelly’s voice instantly. “Who is? What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I just know one of the girls is dead. Bugle feels it, too. Damn it, Al, I’m going to smash something!”

  He’d worked with animals too long not to respect their intuition. Plus, Bugle had a link to those girls after smelling their garments.

  “Hell, I’ll be right over.”

  “I’m not crazy!”

  “I don’t think you are. I’m on my way. Give me a few. I need to make sure everyone’s got some water.”

  “Okay.” Her voice cracked. “Okay.”

  He dressed as swiftly as he could, wishing he had more zippers and fewer buttons, then ran out to the kennels in the insulated barn. Two felines and one canine raised their heads curiously but didn’t seem at all disturbed. The minxes were snarling at each other from cages five feet apart.

  Yeah, they had water. Plenty of food in their automatic feeders. The dog yawned at him and went back to sleep. The cats merely stared enigmatically. The minks ignored him.

  Sure that his charges would be all right for a while, he headed out to his truck. The light from the lamp he’d left on in his cabin silhouetted a squirrel in the window.

  “Hey, Regis,” he said. “What are you doing out at this hour?”

  He’d never get an answer. All he knew was that squirrels tended to stay in their dreys at night with the rest of their squirrel families.

  Crap, was the whole world suddenly going nuts?

  A million questions demanded answers but he refused to ask them until he got to Kelly’s place. All he needed to know for now was that she was clearly distraught and probably didn’t want to call anyone from her department. He supposed he ought to feel complimented that
she didn’t think he’d dismiss her or label her nuts.

  Still, the only evidence a feeling? Hers or the dog’s? Yeah, he wouldn’t want to explain that to most people, although he wasn’t the sort to dismiss it.

  He’d been in situations in Afghanistan where feelings of that kind had been all that saved his life and the lives of his squad. The sense that something was about to happen. That someone lurked and was ready to kill.

  Easy to dismiss by telling yourself you’d picked up on some small thing in the environment that you hadn’t consciously noticed.

  This was going to be different.

  At three in the morning there was no hope of finding any ready-made coffee unless he drove to the far end of town to the truck stop. That would take too long. Dang, he needed some caffeine as quickly as possible, but he was sure he could make it at Kelly’s house even if he’d have to wait fifteen or twenty minutes. She’d probably need some, too, before this night was over.

  The drive seemed endless, which it didn’t usually, but eventually he reached her little house on the edge of town and pulled into the driveway, two strips of concrete that were wheel-distance apart. An old-fashioned driveway, the kind that had come about in the days of wheeled carriages and wagons.

  No getting stuck in mud. Or snow. Or... He shut the stupid line of thought down. The lights were on in Kelly’s small cottage. Another time they might have looked welcoming.

  The instant he reached her door, the icy night wind whipping through narrowed streets like a hungry animal, she flung it open. She’d been worried over the last few days, but now she looked sunken, circles around her eyes. Bugle didn’t even rise from the floor to acknowledge him but lay there looking as depressed as a dog could look.

  She couldn’t even speak his name, simply stepped back to give him entrance.

  “Coffee?” he asked, deciding to start on safe ground.

  “I didn’t... My hands were shaking...”