“That…was…hilarious!” his friend choked out between howls of laughter. “You get…more…crotchety…by the damn day!”
Shelby scowled out the cab’s windshield. “Someday your two-bit sense of humor is going to earn you a stiff sock to the jaw. Now if you’ll shut up for a minute, I’ll tell you the real reason I think we should play it cool.”
After several failed attempts, Mack managed to subdue his mirth to a more or less acceptable level for Shelby to resume speaking.
“First of all,” Shelby said, “I’m still on the fence about Sheriff Hammer. She seems open enough, but we don’t know what her limits are or how she will react to any given situation. I don’t need a thousand-dollar fine or a court date for doing something that would likely provide limited results. In fact, we might examine Leslie’s car and find nothing of value whatsoever. Secondly, and related to the first, is that I don’t need legal trouble bogging down my efforts to find my daughter. If that means kowtowing to the interim sheriff, then so be it. Finding Leslie is the goal, not my personal pride.”
“What’s our move, then?” Mack asked, still wiping sweat from his brow that had beaded during his recent exertion.
“Hammer told us where they found the car, and there’s nothing to say we can’t check out the scene. I’d be willing to bet we’d find more information there than by looking over the car anyway.” Shelby turned to Katherine. “Would you mind driving us back to my vehicle?”
Katherine shrugged. “I don’t mind at all, but I’d like to tag along—unless you have some objection.”
Shelby thought it over briefly, then shrugged. “I don’t suppose I do.”
“Then let’s go,” she said. “We can take the truck.”
Shelby nodded and settled back for the ride. “Sounds good. Let’s do it.”
They drove along together peacefully, the quiet punctuated every couple of minutes by a remark or story from Mack, who couldn’t seem to tolerate the silence. For his part, Shelby was lost in thought. He was disappointed they hadn’t been able to access the impound lot, but meant what he’d said about it being likely they wouldn’t find anything of real interest. The police would have spotted obvious signs of a struggle, after all, and the risk of entry wasn’t worth the low probability of reward. The thing he hadn’t mentioned to the others was that he suspected the order Hammer had given the attendant—about not letting anyone in without specific permission from her—was aimed directly at Shelby. She had guessed that was where he would go and that he would likely attempt some kind of trickery to gain access. It was unsettling she would learn his methods so quickly. Sheriff Hammer was a woman worth watching out for—and getting to know a lot better.
“You turn here,” Shelby said suddenly as they approached the road on which Leslie’s car had been found. Then he realized Katherine had already activated the turn signal and began chuckling. “Sorry. I forgot you’ve spent more time around these parts than I have. And on the road, no less.”
Katherine smiled. “I could drive these roads blind. And essentially have, counting some of the snow storms we get up here.”
The truck slowed as they turned onto the road, and Shelby kept a close eye out for any sign that would indicate the place Leslie had stopped her car. Then he spotted rubber skid marks burned into the pavement and pointed. Katherine saw them at the same time and turned on her flashers. She pulled over, parked, and they all piled out of the cab.
Shelby’s eyes took in the scene. He pointed to some tracks on the shoulder. “This is where she pulled off the road. Not only did she slam the brakes on the road, she stopped in a hurry off the shoulder as well. You can tell by the way the tracks sort of dig into the dirt near the end and slide sideways.”
“There are a couple of footprints over here,” Katherine said, pointing at the ground nearer the trees.
Shelby hurried over and confirmed the find. “Sure enough. And they’re the right size for Leslie and around the same weight too.”
Mack raised an eyebrow. “Are we doubting this was her?”
“Just gathering information.” Shelby glanced up and down the shoulder. “What’s strange is that I don’t see any footprints on the shoulder in any direction. If she’d left the car and started walking, you’d think we’d be able to see the tracks.” He walked to the edge of the woods. He knelt on one knee and began examining the brush and grass.
Mack followed reluctantly, as if worried he was in the presence of a madman. “Shel…what the hell are you doing?”
“Searching for trail sign.”
“Trail sign? Oh, right, I forgot. You think you’re Daniel Boone.”
“Hardly, but I do know something about tracking, thanks to Old Tom.”
Mack’s eyes lit up. “Hey, that’s right! You never told me about him.”
“I remember Old Tom,” Katherine said. “Most of the kids were afraid of him, but Shelby took to him. There was a rumor Old Tom was turning Shelby into an Indian.”
“I think we’re supposed to say Native American,” Mack said.
“Well, whatever the case, I would have been thrilled if that had been possible,” Shelby said. “Old Tom was about as smart and crafty as they come. He was the best thing that could have happened to me at that point in my life, and I’ll never forget him. But now isn’t the time for memory lane.”
Shelby ducked into the woods that bordered the road and began picking his way through the underbrush, pausing every now and then to examine a bush or patch of leaves, searching for signs of Leslie’s progress.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Mack asked. “I don’t see anything.”
“That’s because you don’t know what to look for. In this case, I’m looking almost exclusively for displacement.”
“I’m assuming you’re going to tell me what that is?”
“Anything in the woods removed from its original position. Broken twigs, shifted soil or rocks, broken twigs, and certainly the footprints themselves, are all examples of displacement. The evidence is there, if you only know where to look.”
“You and the goddamn Boy Scouts.”
“Nope, I was never in the Scouts.”
“Let me guess, then. Old Tom?”
“Exactly.”
Mack looked at Katherine. “It doesn’t look like he’s going to tell me. You want to do the honors?”
Katherine laughed. “Old Tom was an Odawa Indian rumored to be over a hundred years old. He spent his entire life in the woods of the upper Great Lakes region. Shelby started hanging around him in high school, even played hooky to pass his days in the wild.”
“How do you know these things about me?” Shelby asked. “Was I that obvious about everything?”
“Not really, but I was infatuated with you, remember? Besides, there was a period of time during which a lot of rumors floated around about you.” Her voice, which had softened as she said this last part, trailed away into nothing and ended in awkward silence.
Shelby filled it by saying, “Old Tom taught me most of what I know about the woods and nature. He was a brilliant outdoorsman and I pestered him constantly to teach me about the northern woods and water. I guess I wore him down, because he finally began teaching me. I think he also enjoyed passing the knowledge along, because at that time, not many in his own family were interested. He worried a lot about the old ways disappearing, and he was right to be worried. Whatever his reasons, I benefitted greatly from his experience and generosity.”
Mack whistled slowly. “I just got chills. All these years later, you’re using that ancient knowledge to track your only daughter. You can’t make this stuff up!”
“You’d have to be a crazy person to want to,” Shelby said. Then he held up a hand. “Hold on, there’s another set of tracks that come all the way from the road. Smaller and lighter than Leslie. A young girl, perhaps.”
They continued walking, all silent until Shelby stopped once more.
“And here they’re joined by others.” Sh
elby moved around the area, stopping occasionally to poke around in the grass and dirt with his index finger. “I see at least four different sets of tracks, including the ones I’m assuming to be Leslie’s. Two are definitely males, both around six feet and two hundred pounds, give or take. And then the other set of smaller ones.”
“Anything you can tell about those?” Mack asked.
“The tracks all head off that way,” Shelby said, pointing west. “Leslie’s tracks are distinct and set apart. The smaller set is mixed in with one of the male footprints. I’d guess she was being physically forced to walk.”
“And Leslie?”
“She either went along willingly or they had another way of forcing compliance.”
“Like a gun,” Mack added, his voice taking on a hard edge.
They followed the trail until it disappeared at the edge of another paved road. Mack sheltered his eyes with one hand and looked across to the other side.
“You think they continue over there?”
Shelby shook his head. “No. You can see a bit of tread mark on the shoulder here. It’s pretty obvious that they either had a car waiting or someone picked them up. I’d guess the former.”
“Any idea as to the vehicle?” Katherine asked.
“Negative. Not enough tread to tell much. We can at least pass this info along to Sheriff Hammer. Maybe the cops can put out a call for any witnesses who saw a car parked along this road. A license number is probably too much to hope for, but maybe a color, make, and model.” Shelby sighed. “Well, we’ve come to a snag. I didn’t really think we’d just walk up on them, but I hate thinking about what could be happening right now. I keep trying to imagine a reasonable explanation for all of this, but every time I hit a wall. Nothing makes sense. Nothing good, anyway.”
“Wild guesses won’t help,” Mack said. “I saw this a million times on the force. Family members would start running over scenarios in their heads and practically go crazy trying to figure it all out. The truth was almost never what they settled on. And often it was something innocent. We need to stay calm and steady.”
Shelby nodded and reached over to give Mack’s shoulder a squeeze. “Thanks, man. I needed to hear that. I’m usually the one saying that to others, but this time—”
“It’s your daughter, Shel. What would you expect? You can’t be Mr. Stoic all the time. And you shouldn’t try. This is personal.”
“Right—personal.” Shelby looked into the woods, his eyes hardening. “And if we find Leslie harmed in any way, you know what’s going to happen to the men responsible, don’t you?”
Mack didn’t even try to conceal the gleam in his eye. “Yeah, I know. And I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
10
The door opened a crack, spreading a shaft of sick yellow light down the steps. Leslie, who had at last drifted into a light slumber, awoke immediately, her head jerking up and heart thrumming to a quick beat. She waited, but it took a full minute before a shadow appeared in the light. The door eased open, creaking slightly, and the light increased its territory, revealing the outlines of what appeared to be a garage or, more likely, given the steps, a basement. It was cool in the basement, but instead of a refreshing coolness, it felt damp. The air seemed to be attempting to crawl inside Leslie’s bones, as she sat with her back against something with a smooth, rounded surface—a metal pole, probably.
The shadow had turned to a silhouette, which now began descending the stairs. It paused at the bottom and stood silent, unmoving. Then, it spoke.
“It’s good to see you again, my dear.”
The voice filled her with dread—she had heard it before, but even though her mind raced, identification was evasive.
“I gather from the look on your face that you do not recognize my voice. I’m inclined to feel hurt.”
Leslie steeled her nerves before answering. She had no desire, whoever this man was, to let him detect fear in her voice.
“It would help if I could see your face.”
“Of course, of course. All in good time. But first, I would like to talk with you a bit.”
“What could we possibly have to talk about?”
“Quite a bit, as it turns out. You and I shared an intimate moment some time ago.”
Leslie’s mind quickly flipped through memories of every boyfriend over the last ten years, but the voice belonged to none of them.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t think we ever hooked up.”
“Oh, we didn’t. Not in the way in which you’re speaking anyway. You disappoint me, Leslie. Intimacy isn’t only about sex. But then again, perhaps that lack of understanding is why you’re no longer together with your child’s father.”
“I couldn’t understand why a father wouldn’t want to be around their own child, if that’s what you mean.”
“Speaking of the child, how is the little thing? You named her Shelby, yes?”
Leslie’s heart did a flip and when she spoke again, her voice was husky and low. “Who are you?”
“Your worst nightmare, sweetheart. Remember me now?”
The basement lit up as a switch was thrown. Leslie blinked twice, and then saw the man standing before her. She saw stars for a moment and willed herself not to faint. Nausea filled her gut and the back of her throat. A scream ripped from deep within.
11
Once again, Quinn Edwards sat at Shelby’s kitchen table drinking coffee.
“Thanks for having me again,” she said, looking at Shelby with genuine concern. “I know you must be consumed with worry over Leslie.”
Shelby winced. “That’s putting it lightly. It’s the worst feeling in the world to know your child is in trouble and be powerless to help.”
“Do you have any leads?”
“Not really, no, although it’s clear to me that whoever took her has a connection to me.”
“What makes you say that?”
Shelby explained about Leslie’s cellphone. “If that wasn’t a message meant to freak me out, I’ll eat my hat. Not to mention that I had a dream—a nightmare, really—about visiting Leslie in the morgue.”
“Oh my god—”
“It was pretty horrible.”
“Have your dreams been known to come true?”
“Not at all. In fact, I’ve scoffed at anyone who claims to have that kind of intuition. But now…I don’t know. I keep telling myself it was a coincidence, but I’m not sure I want to take the chance in this case.”
“I don’t follow you.”
Shelby sipped at his coffee, which he had liberally spiked. “I’m not much for the idea of fate. People often have more control over their circumstances than they want to admit—with some notable exceptions, of course.”
“And you think if your dream was prophetic, you should be able to do something to change that outcome.”
“You catch on fast.”
Quinn smiled softly. “You’re not really that complicated of a man, Mr. Alexander.”
“You might be surprised,” Shelby said, smiling back. He had to admit that he liked the way “Mr. Alexander” sounded coming off her lips. As a distraction, he shifted in his chair and pulled out his phone. “Do you mind if I make a quick phone call? I promised the sheriff I would touch base and I’d like to find out if she’s heard anything.”
Quinn shook her head. “Not at all. Would you like some privacy?”
“No, this won’t take long.”
Sheriff Hammer answered on the second ring, her voice brisk yet friendly. “Hammer speaking. Shoot.”
“This is Shelby Alexander, Sheriff. Got a minute?”
“It’s your nickel.”
“Those were days, weren’t they? Now I’ve got an unlimited minutes plan that costs more per month than the rent at my first apartment.”
“You’re telling me. I resisted a cellphone until it was forced on me by work. Damn things. Pretty sure they cause cancer.”
“What doesn’t these days?”
“Good point. What can I do for you?”
“We promised to share intel, remember?”
“I do, but I don’t have anything new for you.”
“Then maybe I have something for you.”
“Hit me with it.”
Shelby was on the verge of making a crack about hitting someone named Hammer, but resisted. “Mack and I followed trail sign and found some interesting things. It looked like Leslie went into the forest, instead of along the road.”
“Voluntarily?”
“At first, yes. And there was another set of tracks that ran parallel to Leslie’s—probably also female. Deeper in the woods, those tracks were joined by two men. From what I could gather, it looked as if the second woman was being escorted by one of the men.”
“The plot thickens,” Hammer said. “Any idea what she might have been doing out there?”
“Anything I could say now would be pure supposition.”
“I’m open to guesses.”
“Leslie’s not foolhardy and doesn’t love the outdoors, but she does have a big heart. She wouldn’t have gone off into the woods alone unless she thought someone needed her help. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if the second woman was used as bait to draw Leslie away from any safety the roadway might have provided.”
“Did you follow the tracks beyond the camp?”
“They ended at the next road. It looked like they had a vehicle waiting and used that to make their getaway.”
“Mr. Alexander, are you suggesting someone was waiting for your daughter to drive by?”
“It’s not as unbelievable as you might think. I’ve made a lot of enemies over the years.”
“Still, I think you might be a little paranoid. Please don’t take that as an insult; I completely understand it, given that it’s your daughter at stake. And if I were in your shoes, I would no doubt be coming up with the same ideas. The tracks are good info, however, and I appreciate you bringing them to my attention.”
“Sure. No problem.”
The conversation ended cordially, but Shelby disconnected feeling a hair disgruntled. He knew it would have been too much to expect the sheriff would believe everything he’d said. After all, it seemed a little crazy to himself, once he’d said it all out loud, but instinct told him there was more truth than fiction in his theory.
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