by Jen Blood
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Dr. Fuller asked, pulling Jack from his thoughts.
“Hmm? No, of course not,” he assured her. “What is it?”
“What’s the Bureau’s interest in this case?”
He hesitated. There was a lie at the tip of his tongue when he tossed it aside. “I’m actually not with the Bureau any longer—I apologize, I didn’t tell Dr. Laurent. I’m a private investigator now. My client has an interest in this case.”
A shadow crossed Dr. Fuller’s face. Jack expected anger, but the woman simply cast a disparaging glance at Sophie and shook her head. “You didn’t know, huh, Sophie?” she asked.
Sophie shrugged. “I’m getting old. He may have said something—I guess it just slipped my mind.”
“Of course it did,” Fuller grumbled. She nodded toward the door. “Well, get out of here before I report you. I could get in real trouble for this.”
“I really am sorry,” Jack said sincerely. She waved him off.
“Oh, I’m sure you are. Just take your girlfriend and go.”
Sophie started to go with him, and Fuller laughed out loud. “Not so fast, Sophie. I meant the girl in my office. You’re not getting off so easy.”
“Thank you,” Jack mouthed to Sophie, then headed out before Dr. Fuller changed her mind. He hurried to the office only to find Jamie asleep on the sofa, curled up on her side with her arm over her eyes.
He knelt beside her. “Hey,” he said quietly, trying not to startle her. Sometimes with Jamie, he felt like he was dealing with a wild animal—one wrong move, and he would send her running from him all over again.
This time, however, she didn’t start. She moved her arm away from her eyes, and greeted him with a weary smile. “Hey,” she echoed, just as quietly. “You all done?”
“I am. You still up for lunch, or did that headache chase away your appetite?”
She laughed, sitting up slowly. “Nothing chases away my appetite, corazón.” She emphasized the word, rolling her tongue on the ‘r’ as he did. He grinned.
“All right, then. Let’s go. I want to get out of here before Dr. Fuller calls the police on me.” Jamie looked at him inquiringly. “I’ll explain in the car,” he assured her.
Jamie stood, and he was pleased to note that she didn’t pull away when he slipped his hand into hers. A jolt of electricity ran through him at the contact—the kind of reaction that would have made a lot more sense if he were fifteen again, instead of a grown man. He decided he would need to get used to it, though. Jamie had that effect on him.
Chapter 14
I SLEPT IN THE CAR on the way home from Augusta with Jack. We’d eaten a good lunch and then stopped for dessert after that, talking all the while. My headache eased with aspirin and food, settling to a dull throb that I barely noticed thanks to the distraction Jack provided.
At the end of our journey, Jack dropped me at my car, parked in the back of his building in Rockland.
“You can come up if you like,” he said, the two of us standing outside my truck by the light of a slowly sinking sun.
“No, I should go. They’ll be waiting for me.”
“You seem tired. Are you sure you should—”
“I’m fine, Jack,” I interrupted, before he could go any farther down that road. “I’ve slept more today than I have in weeks, frankly. But even if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t do anything to endanger my people or the dogs if I wasn’t sure I could handle it.”
“No, I suppose not,” he agreed reluctantly. I wasn’t sure he actually believed me, and the thought rankled. I loved Jack’s company, but it seemed sometimes that he was too intent on saving me—casting me as damsel in distress when I had worked hard my entire life to be anything but.
“I’ll talk to you soon,” I said.
A flicker of confusion crossed his face, but he nodded. “Sure,” he said, affecting as casual a tone as I had. “Give me a call, we’ll do this again. Minus the coroner’s office next time.”
“Oh, I don’t know. That sofa was awfully comfortable,” I said. Despite myself, I was stalling. Should I set a time when we would meet again? I fought the urge to go to him; to lift my face to his, look into his eyes… Let myself feel whatever it was I was trying so hard not to.
Jack’s gaze lingered on mine. A smile touched his lips, and his confusion melted away in an instant. It was as though he were reading my mind.
“I’ll see you soon, corazón,” he said. And oh, the way he said that word. I felt my cheeks heat every time he said it, his voice a low murmur that made me feel my heart beating all the way down to my toes.
He was the one who turned and walked away, leaving me rattled as I climbed behind the wheel and set out. It took nearly the entire drive back to the search before I felt like myself again.
The temperature had dropped to a pleasant seventy degrees by the time the K-9 search teams returned to the mountain. Monty was waiting for me, the Flint K-9 team on their feet and eager to get a move on. Phantom greeted me with wagging tail and an uncharacteristic bounce in her step—my girl is usually too reserved for such displays.
Casper, meanwhile, wove his leash in circles around Bear, the pit bull’s body vibrating with energy. Monty’s Catahoula, Granger, howled at the lot of us, pacing back and forth while other search teams assembled.
“Where’ve you been all day?” Monty asked suspiciously. “You ship me off with the dogs and come back looking fed and rested and just a little…”
I raised my eyebrows at him and shot a look toward Bear. Monty grinned. Message received.
“…satisfied,” he finished. “It looks good on you, Jamie.”
“Well, I’m not satisfied,” I assured him. “And I won’t be, until we find Albie safe and sound. Where are we with that?”
“We’ve been over every square inch of Maiden’s Cliff,” Chris Finnegan replied, in a voice loud enough to include all searchers on the scene. “A couple of dogs were on scent this morning, but nobody’s had any luck since then. We’re now expanding the search to include all of Camden Hills State Park and the associated mountain range.”
“We used to camp in the park when we were boys,” a man’s voice said, though the speaker was lost among the other searchers. He emerged, and I was surprised to see Fred Davis once again. He wore jeans now, and an expensive-looking LL Bean sweater that wasn’t at all suited for a search like this. Both were filthy, his face flushed—clearly, he had been at this for most of the day. He couldn’t have looked less comfortable if he’d been in hooker heels and a corset.
“He’s always had a soft spot for this area,” Fred continued. “Our father used to take us camping here. Dad wasn’t much for hiking—he had a limp that slowed him down, but he still loved the outdoors. I could see Albie settling in around here.”
Julie Monroe was beside him, as she’d been this morning. She looked decidedly less convinced of this theory. I wondered who knew Albie better now—his virtually estranged older brother, or the underage temptress who lived next door. My bet was on Julie.
“Any thoughts on where he might go if he left the mountain?” I asked, directing the question to the girl. “If he got tired of the woods and decided civilization might be safer?”
“He’s got some spots around here,” she said. “I’d check those before everybody spends all night walking hell and back up there.”
“Spots like where?” Bear asked. A flush of pink touched Julie’s cheeks at my son’s attention.
“Walker Park in Rockport, for one. The Camden Amphitheatre. Children’s Chapel—he likes watching the Belted Galloways. The cows,” she explained to Fred, who looked clueless.
“How do you know all this?” Fred asked.
The teenager cast a wilting glare at the man. “He talks to me. And I actually listen.”
“Has anyone cleared those spots?” I asked Sheriff Finnegan.
“This is the first I’m hearing of any of it,” Finnegan said. “But I’ll send someone out.”
I considered Julie’s theory. God knows I’d spent the better part of the evening doubting this whole search, but I wasn’t ready to give up just yet. “We’ll finish out our search here,” I said to the sheriff. “Julie may be right—it seems like if Albie were out here, we would’ve come across some kind of scent trail by now. But just in case...”
“Just in case,” Sheriff Finnegan agreed. “That seems smart to me.”
“Suit yourself,” Julie said with a shrug. She sidled closer to Bear. “Do you need a partner? For the search, I mean?”
“You’ve been out here most of the day, and a good part of last night,” Sheriff Finnegan said, including both Julie and Fred in the statement. “I know you took a couple of hours off this morning, but that’s not enough down time in weather like this. I want you headed home—both of you.”
“I’m not tired,” Julie said immediately. “I can keep going.”
Despite myself, I felt a tug of sympathy for the girl. She might still look good, but there was no mistaking the fatigue in her eyes. Her arms were covered with welts from bug bites, and heat stroke was far too likely in this kind of weather for anyone who didn’t know to take the proper precautions.
“He’s right,” I said. “You need to get some rest tonight. If Albie’s still missing in the morning, you can come back out then. But you need to get something on those bites and get some food into you. Have you been staying hydrated?”
She produced a stainless-steel water bottle from her bag and shook it. Water sloshed around inside. “I’ve had about a dozen refills today—I must have peed on just about every bush in those woods. I told you: I’m okay.”
“I’ll take you home,” Bear said, to my surprise. And Julie’s, based on her expression. “We can check out those places in Camden and Rockport first, then get you fed. Okay?”
Her eyes widened when she looked at him, and she nodded with just a hint of a smile. The girl looked like she’d just won the lottery. “Yeah. Okay, sure.”
“You don’t need to go out of your way,” Fred said to Bear. “I could give her a ride back.” Julie wrinkled her nose—not a lot, but enough that I certainly noticed, and I expected Fred probably had as well.
“That’s okay,” she said quickly. “I’ll just go with Bear. We’ll be fine.”
Without another word, Bear took off back toward the parking lot. Casper tagged along, looking both confused and deflated. Julie, on the other hand, looked over the moon.
Normally, I would call Bear out for this. There were limited search teams, and we were running on borrowed time as it was. I knew him better than to think he was leaving us on a whim, though—Bear had earned the benefit of the doubt on that count. Wherever he was going and whatever was going on with him, I was certain he wouldn’t put his own needs above those of Albie’s. Besides which, it seemed to me that, however I might feel about Julie, the girl could use some looking after.
#
Once we’d determined the area each of us would be responsible for, I was grateful to head out with Phantom all on my own. I can fake extroversion if I absolutely have to, but I’ll never be mistaken for a people person. I had a bug net to wear if the mosquitoes got too thick, but thankfully tonight there was a good strong breeze coming up on the mountain. I breathed in deep, let my hand brush against Phantom’s head, and set our course.
None of the mountains in the range known as the Camden Hills are that high up, the steepest point being Mt. Megunticook at 1,385 feet. The trails this time of year were well maintained and generally well-traveled, particularly on the other side of the range from where we’d begun, at Camden Hills State Park. As day bled into night, I was happy to be alone alongside my dog, out in the fresh air and away from the rest of the world. Phantom didn’t wander too far ahead, and returned to me frequently for check-ins without being prompted.
“You’re as bad as Jack,” I told the dog at one point. “How many times do I have to tell you people? I’m fine.”
I crouched to give her a thorough head scratching, then checked us both for ticks before we moved on. I found two crawling on her ears, and one making its way up my leg. I’m not squeamish about bugs as a general rule, but I’ve seen the havoc Lyme disease and half a dozen other tick-borne illnesses have caused. I’m not a fan.
“All right, girl,” I said to Phantom, as I straightened and looked skyward at the first glimpse of a crescent moon overhead. “Let’s get this done. Find him, Phantom.”
Once again, my shepherd headed off into the night.
Chapter 15
JACK SETTLED IN WITH CASH and the kittens for a couple of hours that afternoon after returning from Augusta, then headed back to the Davis place for another look around at shortly past seven o’clock. A cursory glance when he arrived told him the animals—or all he could see of them, anyway—had been cleared out, and the place seemed virtually deserted. The exceptions were a sedan that appeared to have been fastidiously maintained, and Nancy’s ancient station wagon, the windshield smashed and one taillight broken out.
As he approached the house, Jack noticed a solitary figure in the pasture, hands on hips, back bowed in weariness or defeat.
Fred Davis.
“Mr. Davis?” Jack called. He prepared himself for the inevitable challenge of questioning a grieving family member. It was hard enough with a badge behind him. Lacking that, he found himself uncertain of how to begin.
Fred Davis turned, pulled from his reverie. He wore jeans and a sweater, both of them filthy, and looked like a man who had spent a full day—possibly more—on his feet. The grief had settled fully on his shoulders now, his eyes dark with it.
“Yes?” Davis said, suspicion in the word.
“I was here yesterday,” Jack said. “I took one of your mother’s cats, and a litter of kittens.”
Jack had been hoping this information might be enough to establish the beginning of a rapport, but Davis looked unimpressed.
“If you’re having a problem with them, you’ll have to talk to the Humane Society. It has nothing to do with me.”
“No,” Jack assured him. “They’re fine, actually. The tomcat does a lot to keep the kittens in line, and they’re old enough that they don’t require much from me. I’m happy to have them.”
“Oh. Well, good.” Davis looked slightly more at ease, though only momentarily. “If that’s not the problem, what do you want? Like I said, anything having to do with the animals goes to the Humane Society to resolve. If you need the number, I’m sure you can find it online.”
“That’s all right,” Jack assured him. The sun was low in the sky now, but it was still warm outside. Jack had worn jeans and a sports jacket, but wished he had gone for a T-shirt instead. Not only would it have been more comfortable, it would have helped him blend more here.
“I work with Jamie Flint, one of the K-9 search and rescue handlers.” Technically, it was the truth. “I just wanted to get a little more information about your brother.”
“Of course,” Davis said quickly. “Why didn’t you say so before?” Why indeed, Jack wondered. “What can I tell you?”
“You know the dog was found in the equipment shed by the Thomaston high school, I assume.”
“Sure,” Davis said. “I think Jamie was the one who took the dog until Albie gets back, wasn’t she?”
“That’s right,” Jack said. “I wondered if you can think of any other places he might have gone? He was obviously pretty bonded to this coach in high school. Are there any other memories involving that man—Coach Pendleton—that you think might have stuck in Albie’s mind?”
“No more than the ones I already told the police about,” Davis said. His forehead furrowed, lips pinched with suspicion. “Didn’t they talk to you guys about that?”
“They did,” Jack assured him. “Just thought I would double check, to see if you had remembered anything more.” He paused a moment, letting Davis relax.
“I was also wondering about what happened to your mother,” he sa
id. “And the remains found in the basement. Do you have any idea who might have been down there? Who the remains belong to?”
“None,” Davis said immediately. His eyes slid from Jack’s, and he swallowed convulsively. Jack watched as the man ran a hand through his thinning hair, clearly rattled. “The coroner’s supposed to have information tomorrow, and I guess they’re looking at digging up more of the place.” He paused, wetting his lips. “It’s a waste of time, if you ask me. Who knows where those bodies came from. Maybe they were already there when we moved in.”
Jack thought of Sophie’s conclusions at the lab earlier that afternoon. Male, thirty to forty years old. Dead at least ten to twenty years.
“How long had your mother lived here?”
“My father bought the house when we were kids. Summer of 1976.”
“So the idea that these bodies were in the basement, unburied, all that time and no one noticed doesn’t seem that likely, does it?” Jack said. He tried to keep his voice neutral. The last thing he wanted was for Fred to feel as though he were being backed into a corner.
“I don’t know,” Fred said wearily. He shrugged. “I don’t know what’s likely anymore. I sure as hell never thought I’d find something like this when I finally got my mother out of the picture and could start dealing with this hell hole.”
Jack raised his eyebrows at the man, but made no comment. Fred grimaced.
“I meant, after my mother moved out—not after I killed her. God.” He took a breath, then released it on a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m not… I’m still not really clear how I should be acting here. What I should be saying.”
“Don’t worry about ‘should’ right now,” Jack said, his tone gentler now. “Everyone handles grief in their own way. With everything else on your plate, it’s no wonder you’re feeling a little confused.”
Fred nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate that. I’m not sure what this has to do with the search for Albie, though. Shouldn’t you be out in the field actually looking for him?”