by Jen Blood
Jack hesitated, but only for a moment. It was a risky move, but this area was small enough that word was bound to get back to Fred eventually about his true role in all this.
“I’m not actually working with this search—I do work with Flint K-9 sometimes,” he added hastily. “Just, not right now. I was hired by someone who’s concerned that your brother might be blamed for your mother’s death. My name is Jack Juarez. I’m a private investigator.”
Instead of the reaction Jack expected—overt distrust or abject anger—Fred actually softened marginally. “Who hired you?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to say.”
“But they want to help Albie,” Fred clarified.
“That’s right,” Jack confirmed. “We just want to make sure Albie is treated fairly once he’s found. Do you have any idea who might have wanted your mother dead?”
“I told you,” a woman’s voice said, from just behind them. Jack groaned inwardly. “There was no shortage of people who wanted Nancy gone.”
Jack turned to find Barbara Monroe approaching, looking considerably more put together than she had that morning.
“Not me, of course,” she assured them, then added gently, “Hello again, Fred. How are you holding up?”
“I’m all right, Barb,” Fred said. The protective mask fell from his face for an instant. Jack saw a flicker of vulnerability when he looked at the woman. Interesting.
“She’s not wrong,” he said to Jack. “My mother hardly would have won a popularity contest around here. She had more enemies than I can count. That’s what I was trying to explain to the police: it could have been just about anyone who killed her. Mom had a way of making you want to wring her neck about five minutes into any conversation.”
“Fred,” Barbara admonished. “Maybe she wasn’t to everyone’s taste, but she had her good points. She loved you boys, at least.”
Fred nodded. His eyes welled, and he looked away from them both. “Yeah,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I know she did, Barb.”
“What about recent incidents?” Jack pressed, once Fred got himself back in hand. “Were there any other interactions that might have something to do with her death?”
“Of course,” Barbara said promptly, before Fred could answer. “I told you earlier, exactly who my money’s on.”
“Who?” Fred asked. “Did you see something?”
Jack frowned, but could think of no way to convince Barbara to keep the information she’d shared with him that morning to herself. Sure enough, the woman continued without pause.
“Bear Flint. He was here the other night, after everyone else had gone. He’d been worked up all day over the animals, and then that night he came out and had a screaming match with Nancy. I guess she changed her mind about letting the police take the animals or something. I don’t know, I couldn’t hear everything they were saying. But Bear said he would take the animals himself, and there was no way she could stop him. I’ll be honest, I was a little afraid of him.”
Jack grimaced. This was definitely a change in tone from the story Barbara had given him that morning, when she’d said she was more afraid for Bear.
“Did you tell the police this?” Fred demanded.
Barbara nodded. “Of course. They said they would follow up. There’s been so much going on, I’m sure it’s taking a little longer than it might otherwise to get their ducks in a row.”
“You know this boy?” Fred asked Jack. “Jamie’s son?”
“I do,” Jack confirmed. “And I’m sure we’re not getting the whole story here. I know Bear well—the police are more than welcome to question him, but I know they’ll rule him out quickly after that.” He was pleased at the confidence he managed to infuse into the words, particularly since he wasn’t sure even he believed them.
Barbara started to say something but froze suddenly, a flicker of emotion crossing her face. Fear, Jack realized after a moment. Jack turned just as Bear stepped out of his truck and slammed the door behind him. Julie slid from her seat on the other side, and Jack noted Casper’s crestfallen expression at being abandoned in the cab.
“What is it?” Fred pressed, eying the boy himself.
“That’s him,” Barbara said. The expression on her face left no doubt as to her feelings on seeing her daughter with the hoodlum in question.
Bear hesitated at sight of the trio in the shadows, catching Julie’s arm before she could join them. He said something low to her, his head bent to hers.
“Why don’t you two excuse me,” Jack said smoothly to Fred and Barbara. “I’d like to ask Bear a few questions.”
“I’d like to ask a few questions myself,” Barbara said grimly. “Julie!” she shouted.
The teenager looked up sharply at her mother’s tone, and scowled in their direction. “What?”
“I’ll see you later,” Bear said quickly. He was headed for his truck when Jack went after him.
Behind him, Jack could hear the raised voices of mother and daughter. He didn’t bother listening in, however, sure he already knew the gist of the fight. Right now, he had his own teenager to worry about.
#
“Hey!” Jack said, jogging after Bear when the boy didn’t slow his pace. “Will you wait a minute, please?” He grabbed hold of Bear’s arm, and Bear jerked it away as he whirled to face the older man.
“What do you want?”
“I want to talk to you,” he said, lowering his voice. He looked back over his shoulder, to find that Julie and Barbara were headed for their house. Fred had vanished in the meantime, though Jack wasn’t sure whether he’d gone back to his mother’s house or was leaving for the night.
“So, talk,” Bear said impatiently. “What are you even doing here? Are you just slinking around hoping my mom will show up again, or do you actually have a lead?”
“You mean besides the suspicious-looking kid here the other night fighting with Nancy, not long before the animals were set loose and Nancy was killed?”
A touch of panic flickered in Bear’s eyes before he tamped it down. “I already told you: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wasn’t here. I didn’t have anything to do with Nancy getting killed. You know I didn’t.”
“I don’t know that, as a matter of fact,” Jack said. He looked at Bear seriously, though he found it hard to summon any genuine anger. The kid was terrified—that much was obvious. “I only know what you’ve told me, and it turns out you left out a pretty significant part of the story. Why did you really hire me?”
Bear bristled. “I told you: I hired you to find out what happened, so Albie doesn’t get in trouble.”
“Not so you don’t get in trouble?”
Bear faltered, but only for a moment before he recovered. Anger flashed in his eyes. “Are you saying I don’t really care what happened to Albie? You really think I could have set this up so he took the fall? Why would I have hired you if I did that?”
“I don’t think that’s what happened at all,” Jack said, his own tone measured. “But I need you to be straight with me about what’s going on. Why were you there the other night? What possible reason could you have had to go back to the Davis house the night Nancy was killed?”
Bear hesitated. Jack could see him weighing the wisdom of lying versus simply telling the truth. He waited patiently, letting the boy come to the decision on his own. Unfortunately, Bear came to the wrong decision.
“You know what? Just forget it, all right?” the boy said, his jaw tight. “This was a stupid idea, me hiring you. I’ll figure it out on my own. I’ll pay you what I owe you. Just drop the case—I’ll do it myself.”
“You’ll do what yourself?” Jack asked, his own tone still measured despite his growing frustration. “What does that even mean? I’m not dropping this now—”
“Just forget it,” Bear repeated, his voice rising. “Forget the whole thing. I was wrong, okay? Maybe Albie actually did it. Then what am I going to do, pay you to prove it and he gets sent to ja
il? Just drop it. Let the police figure it out.”
“And what if the police end up at your front door?” Jack asked. “Because it sounds to me like that’s a real possibility. What do you plan on doing then?”
“Let them come,” Bear said, feigning indifference. “I can handle it. I’ve got nothing to hide. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“If you’ve done nothing wrong, why not just talk to me?” Jack persisted. “We’ll walk through the night together. Explain to me what you saw when you were here—”
“I wasn’t here,” Bear said, reverting to his original party line. “I already told you that. Whoever told you I was was lying. I don’t know what they were talking about, but they got the wrong guy.”
He tipped his chin up, daring Jack to push further. Jack knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who the liar in this particular situation was, though. And it wasn’t Barbara.
“Fine,” Jack said. The word came out clipped, angrier than he had intended. “If you want to play it that way, go ahead. But if that’s the case, I think you’re right: it’s probably smarter if I don’t work for you. I need to believe my clients are telling me everything when we work together.”
He looked at Bear pointedly. The kid didn’t give an inch, shrugging. “Fine. Doesn’t matter to me. Let me know how much I owe you, and I’ll get the money to you.”
“I’m not worried about that.”
Bear frowned, clearly at war with himself over…something. God knew what, but definitely something. Finally, he shrugged. “Whatever.” He looked around, then took his phone from his back pocket and checked the time. “I should get going.” Instead of leaving, however, he hung back uncertainly. “Listen,” he said, looking more vulnerable, suddenly younger than he had. “Could you still keep my mom out of this, please? She doesn’t need to know what happened, right?”
Since in all honesty Jack still didn’t have a clue what had happened, he nodded without a second thought. “Of course. I gave you my word before. I won’t go back on that.”
“Thanks,” Bear said awkwardly. He nodded toward Jack’s car, parked beside his own truck. “So…aren’t you leaving?”
“I’ll be along soon,” Jack said. “I just want to take a look around.”
More awkwardness ensued before Bear nodded. He looked miserable. “Oh. Okay, then. I guess I’ll see you around.”
“I’m sure you will,” Jack agreed. Bear turned to go. As he was leaving, Jack called after him impulsively. “If you change your mind about anything, you know where to find me.”
Bear nodded, but said nothing as he returned to his truck.
Jack waited until he was sure Bear had gone, but just as he started toward the Davis house Fred appeared on the horizon, watching him curiously. It was barely dusk—he felt far too exposed to continue with the plan he’d initially set for himself. Resigned, Jack waved half-heartedly to the elder Davis brother. Breaking and entering would definitely be simpler under the cover of full darkness.
Chapter 16
AS THE EVENING TURNED TO NIGHT, despite circumstances I found myself increasingly grateful to be outside. A cooling breeze kept the bugs at bay, and I savored the stretch of my legs with each stride, the feel of my muscles working in concert. Phantom felt like an extension of me, or maybe I was an extension of her… Whatever it was, it was nice to have her beside me.
“Did you have a good day, Phan?” I asked.
I’ve heard dog owners who’ll ask a dog a question, then answer in some silly voice that’s supposed to belong to the dog. I understand the charm of that, truly—Bear used to make me ‘talk the animals’ all the time when he was little. It’s always struck me as a little presumptuous, though. I ask the questions, because I’m human and we humans love to hear ourselves talk. But Phantom doesn’t answer, because she’s a dog—they don’t do language as we understand it. I love reading her nuanced body language, though. The tilt of her head, the panting canine grin, the dozen different positions of her ears and tail—every one of which conveys a different meaning.
Now, for example, she looked back at me with ears forward, tail wagging. She heard me, and she knew I was talking to her about something not terribly important. She seemed happy to simply hear my voice; to share this moment with me. We walked on, quieter, and I felt genuine peace settle over me.
After the sun went down that evening, Phantom and I followed a trail from Maiden’s Cliff southeast up to the top of Mt. Megunticook, the highest peak in the range. With darkness upon us, the sound of searchers calling Albie’s name took on an eeriness that had been lacking in daylight.
I was relieved when Bear returned to the search shortly after nine o’clock that evening, reporting no trace of scent at any of the places Julie Monroe had said Albie might have gone. Fred Davis had long since gone home, as well. Under cover of darkness, most of the searchers out were professionals either with the state warden service, Flint K-9, or Maine Search and Rescue Dogs, a local organization that had participated in some of the toughest searches throughout the U.S. and Canada.
My headache had dissipated, and there was no trace of Brock’s voice in my head. I moved with ease, grateful for the fresh air and the time apart with my dog. The call of searchers and the distant bay of hounds has always been the most beautiful song to me, a lullaby that eases me like nothing else. Phantom continued on with me close behind, the night clear and the ground well illuminated by my headlamp and the stars above.
My enthusiasm had begun to flag as we headed back down the other side of the mountain at around ten-thirty, with the tower at Mt Battie the ultimate destination. Just beyond Adam’s Lookout, I saw Phantom pause on the trail ahead of me. Her head came up, tail going stiff.
She glanced back at me once, and then was off. The trail up Megunticook and along the stretch we were on is the hardest in the range, so I was surprised to see Phantom on scent up here. Knowing how out of shape Albie was, I had assumed that he would stick to lower altitudes.
He must have heard people calling for him by now, hadn’t he? Must have heard the dogs barking, at the very least. Why would he still be running if he truly had no reason to hide?
I considered the question while I followed Phantom, stopping just shy of a run when she picked up her own pace. With some effort, I put myself in Albie’s shoes. A man with cognitive challenges, who clearly had some sensory issues. He would be sensitive to noise, wouldn’t he? And he would be terrified out here, regardless of what he had or hadn’t seen on the night Nancy died.
Would he come out when people called his name? When he heard hounds baying in the darkness for him? Or would he more likely just curl up and hide, praying it would all just go away?
I pulled out my phone, still on the move, and directed the magic cell god inside it to do my bidding. “Call Bear.”
The magic cell god did. Bear answered on the second ring. “Yeah?”
“I’m up on the trail from Megunticook to Mount Lookout. Phantom’s got a scent. Call the IC and tell him to shut everybody up, okay? And give the message to our handlers, too. Keep the dogs quiet.”
“You think you’ve got him?” Bear asked.
“Phantom sure does.”
“I’ll be right there,” he said, and hung up. Hopefully, his first move would be to convey my message before he raced up the mountainside to us.
Up ahead, Phantom was moving even faster. She was definitely on scent now, her focus absolute. I watched as she navigated the trail with ease, keeping her within the beam of my flashlight as much as possible.
I lost her about a hundred yards into her run, and had to content myself with the flashing light on my GPS to guide me to her. The night had cooled, the air almost chilly this high up. I focused on Phantom, and let everything else fall away. I could hear her moving up ahead, though she made barely a sound as she ran. I wanted to warn her to go easy—we didn’t know what to expect from Albie, after all. Whatever else had happened, he had been through hell the past seventy-two hours.
&nbs
p; The thing that made Phantom such an incredible search dog was that I didn’t actually have to tell her anything. She knew. She figured it out on her own every time, with a degree of empathy I had yet to see a human possess.
I looked at the GPS, my own heart hammering, and slowed when I realized that Phantom had done the same. Before long, she was in my sights once more. The mountainside had gone still, apart from a few lonely, isolated howls. I waited for Phantom to sound her alert—two sharp barks, and then she would lie down close to the subject of her search.
She just stood there, though.
I hesitated.
Something was wrong.
Phantom stopped, looked back at me, and whined anxiously.
“Easy, girl,” I said quietly. “What have you got?”
I took another couple of steps. Phantom returned to my side, still whining. My body was rigid with tension. I felt another headache coming on, another psychic intervention from Brock, but this time I fought it. There was no time right now.
I focused on breathing, and took another couple of steps.
This time, Phantom got in front of me. She physically blocked the trail, and looked up at me with those soft, intelligent eyes.
No closer, she seemed to say.
“Okay, girl,” I said. “I’m listening.”
I cleared my throat, and called in as gentle a voice as I could manage. “Albie?”
There was no response.
I shone my flashlight around the area where Phantom had stopped. It was dense forest up this high, just off the trail but definitely not a place anyone frequented. I paused, swallowing hard. Someone was here. I could feel them.
“You’re not in trouble, Albie,” I said. “We just want you to be safe. Your brother’s been out here looking, too. Everyone is just worried.”
There was a rustling in the underbrush straight ahead, and I froze. Phantom returned to block my way again. I stayed rooted to the spot, her body warm against my legs. I pointed my flashlight beam again, just once more, and stopped when it was in mid-arc.