by Helena Shaw
“I guess,” Dawn replied, shrugging as Becky tossed her items haphazardly into a plastic shopping bag.
“Well, I hope they come in here,” Becky gushed. “It would be so cool, like The X-Files or something.”
“I don’t think it’s anything like that,” Dawn shot her down. “It’s an animal attack, and hopefully no one else gets hurt.”
“Yeah,” the girl said, her cheeks flushing as she spoke. “Yeah, sucks about that poor hiker.”
“It really does,” Dawn agreed as she handed over her cash and scooped up her things. Not only was she now running behind, but something about the spectacle the town was putting on over the death of a stranger was really rubbing her the wrong way. What if it had of been someone they knew or cared about? No one knew this hiker, but they could have. It was awful to think about, and having the FBI poking around was no better. For people to actually be excited about it? It was low, really low.
Dawn’s shoulders tensed as she walked toward Jim’s. Starting her day feeling that put off by her neighbors was going to do her no favors, and she tried to shake it off, but by time she got to the bar at eleven, she was pouring herself a shot of whiskey just to calm down some.
To make matters worse, Courtney was nowhere to be seen as Dawn started to fire up the grill. Courtney did have a habit of being late, but Dawn was already in a foul mood and she found herself cursing Courtney as she began to wipe down the tables and lay out fresh utensils.
“Morning,” Jim said as he strolled into the bar that carried his name.
“Hey,” Dawn said, unable to hide the edge in her voice.
“Just you?” he asked as he hung up his slightly tattered jacket before moving to the bar to pour himself a pint.
“Just me,” Dawn confirmed with a hint of venom on her tongue. “Courtney hasn’t even called. She probably spent the night with that guy, and now I’m stuck doing both our jobs.”
“Hey, now,” Jim said with a chuckle. “You’re the one who said she should go. She asked if you were cool with it, and you should have known that also meant she was coming in late.”
“I know,” Dawn relented. “I’m not even really mad about that. It’s just... people.”
“All of them?” Jim laughed again, this time a little louder.
“Everyone I’ve seen so far today,” Dawn said. “Except you, of course.”
“Well, I’m flattered,” Jim said as he began to drink his beer.
“Everyone is turning this animal attack into a circus or something,” Dawn griped. “They’re treating it like it’s something out of a movie, and I mean, someone died. They died horribly, and no one is treating that with any sort of sadness or respect. It’s a spectacle.”
“Maybe they don’t know how else to think about it,” Jim said, his eyes turning soft and fatherly. “Think about it. Maybe they aren’t being sad because that’s too hard for them. If they treat it like it’s some fantasy, like it’s a movie, it’s easier for them to process and deal with. Maybe it’s just how they’re coping with it.”
“You have a point,” Dawn said, hot shame creeping into her cheeks. “I guess I’m just on edge.”
Jim nodded. “I think we all are. Except for Courtney. Where is that girl?”
“I’ll give her another half hour,” Dawn said. “Then I’ll call her. Don’t want to wake her if she was up all night.”
“Now that sounds more like the Dawn I know,” Jim said. “I’ll be in my office, if you need me.”
The half hour window that Dawn had given Courtney quickly turned into forty-five minutes, then an hour. Even after Gabe arrived and the bar opened for business, there was no sign of the redheaded waitress. Dawn imagined Courtney bouncing through the front door of the bar and sharing with everyone how wonderful her night with the great Gavin Mosley was, but even at one-thirty, there was no sign of her.
The last of Dawn’s frustration and anger with Courtney’s lateness faded by time two rolled around. The first customers of the day had just been seated, but there was still nothing to be seen of her friend. No call, no text to Gabe’s cell, nothing to indicate that Courtney knew she was late for work.
“Hey, Jim,” Dawn said as she poked her head into the owner’s office. “Can you watch the tables for a second? I’m just going to call Courtney’s mom and make sure she’s just hung-over or forgetful or something.”
“I was about to do the same,” Jim said. “But I think she’d prefer if you called. Tell her I’m disappointed in her.”
It was a thin attempt at a joke, but Dawn told him she would as he left the dark closet he called an office. There was barely enough space for the old table that doubled as a desk, or Jim’s old Compaq computer and an even older rotary phone.
Dawn hadn’t owned a cell phone in over two years, and that meant she’d gotten quite good at remembering people’s numbers without the aid of a contact list. She stuck her finger in the loop of the dial and began to run it around until the she completed the number to Courtney’s house.
“Hello?” a familiar voice answered, though it was strained with worry.
“Hey, Mrs. Frey?” Dawn said. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh, I’m sure it is,” the woman on the other end of the call said. “I was just going to call you girls at the bar.”
That seemed to be an ongoing theme.
“Um,” Dawn said, realizing she might not have the best news for Courtney’s mother. “See, I was actually calling to see if Courtney is there.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Frey said, her voice a thin whisper. “No, I haven’t seen her. I thought she maybe just went to work early.”
“I’m really sorry,” Dawn said. “She isn’t here. I know she probably doesn’t want you knowing this, but she left with a customer not long before close. She didn’t leave you his number or anything, did she?”
“No, dear, she didn’t,” Mrs. Frey said, her voice cracking.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Dawn insisted. “She left with that baseball player who moved to town, Gavin-somebody.”
“Mosley,” Mrs. Frey said. “Well, that’s probably it. She’s done nothing but talk about him since her brother saw him. I can’t blame her for being a little enthusiastic.”
“Me either,” Dawn said, trying to sound relieved, but it wouldn’t come. “Can you just get her to call the bar when she does get home? Just so Jim can chew her out a little.”
That wasn’t entirely why. Dawn was really starting to worry, and she knew it wouldn’t get better until she talked to Courtney herself.
“Of course I can,” Mrs. Frey said. “She’s going to get an earful from me, too.”
Their banter was meant to reassure one another, but it didn’t seem to be going well. Maybe if a hiker who, if rumor was to be believed, was about Courtney’s age hadn’t been found dead in town, they wouldn’t be so alarmed. With everything going on, though, both women were struggling to act like they really believed everything would be okay.
Once she was done on the phone, Dawn had to force herself to go back to business as usual at Jim’s. There weren’t many customers, just a few regulars who were after some beer and commiseration, and there was little to take her mind off where Courtney had gone off to.
Even when things did pick up, Dawn couldn’t concentrate. Their small dinner rush was nothing compared to the worry eating away at Dawn’s gut. Nothing was going right. She forgot which beers the bar carried, she gave people the wrong change, but it was when she dropped a plate full of nachos on the floor that Jim stepped in and told her to take a break.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Gabe tried to assure Dawn as she paced the small kitchen. “Remember when she took off for the weekend to see Chuck?”
“Yes,” Dawn said, her voice tight and snappy. “I went with her, remember? We told you two days before we left that we were going.”
“True, but that was just some guy,” Gabe said as he flipped a burger. “This is someone famous. Girls like Courtney go nuts with guys like
him. They’re probably naked at his house, laying out on a bearskin rug, or something like that.”
“Yeah,” Dawn said, but she didn’t believe him. She knew Gabe was just trying to reassure her, but he was painting a picture of Courtney that she just didn’t like.
“I think I’m good now,” she announced. “Better to get back to work to keep my mind off things.”
“Let me know if she calls,” Gabe called after her as Dawn stepped back out into the bar.
What she expected to see was a few patrons waiting for Jim to get them beer, or maybe a burger. The last thing she wanted to see was the three FBI agents and the town’s only cops in tow.
“I’m really sorry,” one of the agents whose name Dawn didn’t know was saying to Jim. “We need to talk to everyone who was here last night.”
“What’s going on?” Dawn said, her feet moving below her without her knowing. “What happened?”
“Dawn, go back in the kitchen,” Jim was trying to tell her, but she wasn’t listening. Her eyes were locked on Agent Kevin Nash’s as panic bubbled up in her throat.
“What happened?” she demanded of the agent who so easily held her gaze. “Tell me what’s going on!”
“Ms. Garrett,” he said. His voice was steady and strong, but his green eyes betrayed a sense of sadness. “I hate to have to do this, but Courtney Frey has officially been listed as a missing person.”
Chapter Five
A deep sense of dread began to course through Dawn’s veins long before the mysterious federal agent’s words truly sunk in. Courtney couldn’t be missing. It couldn’t be true. Sure, she was a little impulsive and sometimes a bit flakey, but she wouldn’t just go missing.
“No,” Dawn argued before her brain realized she was speaking. “She isn’t missing. She just went home with that baseball player. Go check his place on highway seventy-nine. She’s probably just staying there.”
“I’m sorry, miss,” one of the agents told her. He was older than his partner by what appeared to be a few years, and older than Agent Nash by a decade. He had a stern, unsympathetic look on his face. “We’ve spoken to Mister Mosley after Mrs. Frey suggested the same thing. There was no sign of her there.”
That was when his partner stepped in. “Right now, this bar is officially under investigation.”
“Investigation for what?” Jim cut in. “Nothing happened here. We want to find Courtney more than you do!”
“I assure you,” the oldest agent told him, “that we are very concerned with finding the whereabouts of Miss Frey. We need everyone here to cooperate with that effort.”
Dawn couldn’t tell if Jim was ready to scream or cry. The old guy looked like as tough as a grizzly bear, but inside he was all mush and heart. Even Gabe, who put on such a tough show for everyone he encountered, had a glazed, semi-present look in his eyes. The only one who could even think to question the agents was Dawn.
“But I saw them leave together,” Dawn said. “You saw them leave together,” she said as she turned her attention toward Agent Nash. “Tell them what you saw.”
Agent Nash wasn’t the one to answer her line of questioning, though. Instead, the senior agent cut in before Nash was given a chance.
“We are aware of who you and Agent Nash saw our victim leave with,” he began.
“Victim?” Dawn stopped him. “Oh my God, is she dead?”
“No,” Agent Nash finally spoke up. “Not that we know of, at least. Victim was…” he shot the other agent a scathing glance “…a poor choice of words. Miss Frey is only a missing person at this time.”
“And we talked to Mosley,” the third agent said. “He dropped the girl off in front of her house. There was no sign of her at his place or anywhere near it. Not a single trace. He tells us...”
“Agent Hart,” the senior officer stopped him, “I think at this point in our investigation, we should keep the details confidential until we have suspects on the line.”
“Are you calling me a suspect?” Dawn said, her panic deepening at the agent’s off-the-cuff suggestion.
“You aren’t a suspect,” Agent Nash cut in. “We just want to get our ducks in a row before we start spilling too much.”
“But the other missing hikers,” Jim said. His normally deep, burly voice was now a shaken shadow of its former self. “They say it’s an animal attack. There are no suspects in an animal attack, right?”
“We can’t rule anything out,” Agent Hart said.
“Are you saying there’s some kind of serial killer out in the woods?” Dawn said, unable to stop herself. “She’s the fifth person to go missing in a month, and you won’t even consider that ball player is who is behind it? His word is good enough for you, is that it?”
Dawn’s voice was turning accusatory, and she was only narrowly avoiding shouting.
“Ma’am, just settle down,” the senior agent told her. His tone was downright condescending.
“Don’t tell me to ‘settle down,’ ” she shot back. “My best friend is missing, and you want me to ‘settle down?’ ”
“Okay, okay, enough,” Agent Nash cut in. “Listen, we need to ask you all a few questions. Miss Garrett, is there a place here that we can talk alone? Off the record, for now.”
“Now, listen here,” the senior agent stopped him, anger touching the corners of his eyes. “You’re just as much a witness as the girl might be. We can’t have you leading her or tainting her memories of last night. I’ll have a word with her.”
“No way!” Dawn said. As much as she wanted to find Courtney, sitting down one-on-one with an agent whose name she didn’t know sent spikes of panic down her spine.
“It wasn’t a request,” the agent growled at her, but Agent Nash came to her rescue.
“Hey, cool it,” he said, his own snarl meeting the older agent’s head on. “Can’t you see she’s freaked out enough as it is?”
That much was true. Everyone was staring at Dawn, and that was when she looked down to see that her hands shaking. She hadn’t even noticed their violent spasms until then, but as soon as she did, she began to feel faint.
“Whoa, there,” Jim said. He caught her just as she started to lose her balance. With more agility than he looked like he might possess, he pulled over a nearby barstool with the toe of his boot and helped guide Dawn to sit on it.
For a second, no one said a word as Dawn struggled to calm herself down. Between Courtney going missing, the feds now wanting to talk with her, and everything else going on, it was no wonder that she’d momentarily lost her constant grip on the calm and cool mask she carefully wore each day.
When it was obvious that she wasn’t going to pass out, the men in the room seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Though her hands still shook, the moment of panic was over, and Dawn struggled to regain her composure.
“Here, sweetie,” Jim said as he leaned over the bar and poured a pint of beer. “This’ll help those nerves.”
“Thanks,” Dawn said as she reached for the mug, but the senior officer’s voice stopped her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded of Jim.
“What do you think I’m doing?” Jim shot back. “I’m giving the poor girl a beer. I think she’s earned the damn thing.”
“During an investigation, you’re giving a girl who looks barely nineteen a drink?” Agent Hart answered for his partner. “That seems a tad irresponsible of you, sir.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass how irresponsible it seems,” Jim shot back at him, his grizzly side showing through. “She’s worried sick about her friend, and you fools aren’t doing anything to help her with that. If a beer calms her down enough to remember something that might help, I think the fact that she’s a few months under twenty-one isn’t going to hurt nobody.”
“The law is the law,” Agent Hart argued, his stubbornness only irritating Jim more.
“Enough!” Agent Nash stopped them both before either of them did something they’d regret. “This
is ridiculous. None of these people are suspects and she can have a beer if she damn well wants to, got that?”
He might have been younger than his fellow agents, but Agent Nash held his head high and his shoulders back as he roared at them. Everything about him commanded not only respect, but an overwhelming show of dominance that reminded Dawn of the rutting bucks she’d seen the few times her dad had taken her out hunting. His stance, his voice, even his eyes told the room he was in charge, and anyone questioning that fact would regret it.
“Now,” he said once he had command of the room, “I said I would like to speak to Miss Garrett privately for a minute, and I mean to do just that. Hart, Connors, I believe these gentlemen could have seen something that may add to our investigation. Perhaps your time would be better spent talking to them rather than chewing out a traumatized young woman over a single glass of beer.”
Agent Nash’s suggestion was taken as a command, and Dawn offered him an appreciative look. If she had to talk to any of the three agents, she was glad it was him. Even though they’d only spoken briefly, there was something about him that made her wonder if she might just be able to trust him.
“We can use Jim’s office,” Dawn said as she led the agent through the galley door that led into the kitchen.
“That’ll do just fine,” Agent Nash said, but he might have regretted that after he saw the space.
Jim’s office was small for one person, but with the two of them inside, the door barely had room to close. Jim only had space for one chair, and Agent Nash gestured for Dawn to take it before he leaned back on the table that doubled as a desk.
“Please,” Dawn said as she sipped the beer that was still in her hands. It wasn’t until she’d sat down that she realized her grip on the frosty mug was so strong that her knuckles were turning white. She had to force herself to relax her grip, and she gently stretched out her fingers while she thought of what to say.
“You were there last night,” she finally settled on. “You saw Courtney leave with that guy. You can’t tell me that you don’t think he had something to do with this.”