Love Inspired Suspense December 2015, Box Set 2 of 2

by Margaret Daley

  Marge’s eyes twinkled. “She always comes in right before Brad leaves work and gets a drink at the café. She usually picks him up.” Marge, one of the best gossipers in Port Aurora, waited for his response.

  He smiled and said, “Thanks. Merry Christmas,” then grabbed his bag and started for the exit of the store, which was dripping with Christmas decorations.

  Celeste intercepted his departure. “Hi, Jake. It’s good to see you again. I heard about your injury. How are you?”

  She had meant everything to him at one time, but when he looked at her now, a cold rock hardened in his gut. “I’m fine, as you can see.” Then he continued his trek toward the door, welcoming the blast of icy wind as he stepped onto the porch.

  The heartache and humiliation of their breakup, done in front of a large audience at their engagement party, still fueled his anger. After his mother had left him with Gramps and gone on her merry way, he’d been wary of forming any deep relationship. First losing his father in a fishing accident and then his mom because she didn’t want to be a mother anymore, had left its mark. Rachel’s friendship had helped him through those hard times because she had gone through something similar with her own mom. Then when he’d fallen in love with Celeste, it felt so right. But the whole time, she’d been making a play for Brad Howard, the son of the richest man in town, using Jake to make Brad jealous.

  Jake climbed into his grandfather’s SUV and headed home. He was glad to have gotten that inevitable meeting over with. The earth didn’t shake and swallow him because he’d seen her today. He was a different man than the one who had naively fallen for Celeste eight years ago.

  In the dark of a winter day, Jake turned down the long drive that led to a cluster of several homes, one being his grandfather’s on a few acres. He shouldn’t have stayed in town so long. Although dinner at Linda’s wasn’t for a few hours, he wanted to spend time with Gramps and help him as much as he could around his place. Gramps, at seventy-three, moved slower and wasn’t as energetic as he once was.

  When Jake entered his childhood home, Mitch, his black and brown German shepherd, greeted him at the door, his tail wagging. He hadn’t been sure how his dog would do, flying in a small plane, but he had been great. He would miss working every day with Mitch when he returned to the Anchorage Police Department. Mitch had been retired early because he’d lost one of his legs in the accident at the bomb site they had been searching.

  “Did you miss me?” Jake rubbed him behind his ears.

  Mitch barked.

  The noise brought Gramps into the entry hall. “Every sound sent Mitch to the window to see if you were coming home.”

  “I stayed a little longer than I planned. I’m surprised at how much Port Aurora has grown, changed.”

  “Yes, it’s been a harbor of busyness for the past year. Lots of construction in the summer. The roads still okay?”

  “Yes. Five or six hours from now they might not be.”

  “If the storm blows through quickly, they’ll have the roads plowed by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “All the way out here?” They didn’t when he lived here as a child, but Port Aurora’s population had been only twenty-eight hundred in the winter. With its growth came more needs for the residents.

  “Yep, that’s called progress. They don’t plow the long drive, but I’ll get out there and do that tomorrow morning.”

  “I can.”

  “No, you’re on vacation.”

  “I’ve been on vacation for months, and frankly I can’t wait to get back to work.”

  Gramps turned and ambled toward the great room where he spent a lot of his time. “Then let’s pray your doctor says you’re ready to go back to work at the first of January. Did you see any old friends?”

  “Rachel and Sean.” Since Celeste wasn’t a friend, he left her name out. Whenever she was mentioned, Gramps always got angry.

  “How’s Rachel?”

  “Fine.” Jake sat on the couch while his grandfather took his place in his special lounger. “We really didn’t talk long. Aunt Betty was upset about something, and Rachel was focused on that.”

  “Really? Betty is one lady that goes with the flow. She doesn’t let much of anything get to her. I should learn something from her.”

  The landline rang, and Jake reached toward the end table and snatched up the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Jake, I’m so glad you’re home.” The relief in Rachel’s voice came through loud and clear.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I stopped by Aunt Betty’s house on the way home, and no one answered the door, but her car is here. I just looked into the living room window and someone has tossed her place. It’s a mess.”

  “Call the police, stay outside and I’ll be right there.”

  “I’m already inside. My cell doesn’t work this far from town. The first thing I did was call you.”

  “Make the call to the police and then get out. Okay?”

  “Yes.” The urgency in Jake’s voice heightened her concern for her aunt.

  CHAPTER TWO

  After reporting to the police about the trashed living room, Rachel hung up her aunt’s phone not far from the front door and started edging back. Her heart pounded against her rib cage, her breathing shallow. She should get out like Jake said, but what if Aunt Betty was knocked out on the floor? She didn’t think an intruder was still there since there was no sign of a vehicle other than Aunt Betty’s. But if someone robbed her, and from the disarray of drawers emptied and cushions tossed on the floor, it was obvious that was what happened, then her aunt could be hurt, tied up or even…

  No, she wouldn’t consider that. She wouldn’t leave until she found her aunt. The least she could do until Jake came was walk through her cabin and search. Rachel had first-aid training because of all the hiking and camping she did in the warmer months. If Aunt Betty was hurt, she might need medical attention right away.

  She moved through the clutter, careful not to step on anything. Maybe this was the only room involved. Maybe her aunt had been looking for something in the living room and…

  When Rachel entered the kitchen, it was worse. Everything was out of the cabinets and refrigerator. If someone had been looking for something, they probably found it, but Aunt Betty had little in the way of money. Rachel noticed the television was still in place as well as the small appliances. There was a walk-in pantry near the arctic entry at the back. The wooden floors were littered with flour, sugar, cereal. She would disturb the kitchen if she walked across it. Instead, she’d check the rest of the house first. By then, she hoped that Jake had arrived, and he would know how to proceed.

  She walked several feet into her aunt’s bedroom before she couldn’t go any farther because of the mess on the floor, but from that point she could look into the open closet. No Aunt Betty.

  A sound from the living room sent a wave of panic through her. It was probably Jake, but just in case, she flattened herself behind the open door.

  “Rachel, where are you?”

  Jake’s deep baritone voice pushed the panic away, and she came out from behind the bedroom door. “I’m in Aunt Betty’s bedroom.”

  “I should have known you wouldn’t listen to me,” Jake mumbled as he came into the short hallway.

  “You brought Mitch.” Rachel knelt next to the leashed German shepherd and petted him. “He looks good.”

  “I thought if we needed to search for your aunt he could help. He loves tracking. Have you found anything?”

  “A mess, as you can see for yourself, but no sign of Aunt Betty. I haven’t looked in the bathroom or the second bedroom, though.”

  “I’ll check them and then we’ll wait for the police. You stay here with Mitch. This will only take a minute.” After handing her the German shepherd’s leash, Jake walked toward the open bathroom door and peered inside. “The same thing here but no Betty.”

  The door to the second bedroom was ajar but not open. Jake shouldered his way into the r
oom but stayed by the entrance. “She must not be here. Could she have gone somewhere with anyone?”

  “Maybe. I suppose she could have fled when she saw the chaos, but she most likely would have contacted her sister or me.”

  “Have you called Linda?”

  “No, I didn’t want to alarm her if I didn’t have to. If anything happened to Aunt Betty, we would be devastated.” Like when Jake had left Port Aurora years ago. His departure had stunned her, as if he’d taken part of her with him. She cared about the town and its people, but her family and Jake had been the most important people in her life. “I’ll call her, then we can stay inside by the front door.”

  While Rachel placed a call to Aunt Linda, Jake picked his way through the mess in the living room to look into the kitchen. When she answered, Rachel said, “I’m at Aunt Betty’s house. Her car is here, but she isn’t. She was upset today, and I wanted to make sure she was all right. Do you know anything?”

  “Well, that explains the weird message from her at lunchtime. I was waiting until she got home to call her. Her car is there?”

  “Yes, where she parks it in the shed.” Rachel glanced at the chaos and hated to tell Aunt Linda, but she continued. “Someone tore her house apart as though they were looking for something. For all I know, they could have found it.”

  Her aunt gasped. “I’ll be right there.”

  “No, stay put. The police are on the way. What did the message say?”

  “That she should never have taken those pictures.”

  “What pictures?” Rachel asked as Jake returned to her side.

  “I’m not sure. You know how she’s always snapping pictures. She was excited about some new project and was going to show us this weekend. She told me one day the town might want to even display the photos.”

  Maybe that had been what she’d wanted to talk to Rachel about. But then if that were the case, why had someone searched her house? Strange. “Display what?”

  “She was being secretive. You know how she is about the big reveal when she gets an idea. Why would anyone try to steal from her? The only things worth taking are the TV and her camera, although it isn’t a digital one like most people use today. Are they still there?”

  “The TV is. I didn’t check for the camera in her darkroom, but Jake said that second bedroom was trashed like the rest of the house.”

  “Really, I can’t see someone taking it. It’s old. Not something that someone would steal. How about her food processor I gave her for her birthday?”

  Rachel remembered seeing it in the kitchen, in pieces. “It’s here.”

  A long pause from her aunt, then in a tight, low tone, she said, “Then something has happened to her.” Her voice sounded thick.

  Rachel peered out the front window, seeing headlights piercing the snowy darkness. “The police have arrived. I’ve got to go. I’ll be home as soon as I can. We’re probably overreacting.” At least she prayed she was.

  “Rachel, let me know what’s going on. If you need my help, call. Are you sure I shouldn’t come over?”

  “Yes, she might call you. Someone needs to be there. Besides, the police are here, and they’ll probably kick us out while they check the house. When we find Aunt Betty, she’ll need you and me to help her clean this mess up.” If they find Aunt Betty. She couldn’t rid her mind of that thought.

  Jake opened the door for the two police officers from town—the older man, Police Chief Randall Quay, and the younger one, Officer Steve Bates.

  The chief shook Jake’s hand. “It’s good to see you back home. What do you think?” He gestured toward the trashed living room.

  “I’ve searched the house as much as I could without disturbing anything, but there are some places I didn’t get to check. The closet in the second bedroom, the pantry and the back arctic entry.”

  “Aunt Betty used the closet in the second bedroom as a darkroom.”

  The chief nodded once, then turned back to Jake. “Can you help me? Since you’re here, I’d like to send Officer Bates on up the road. We are shorthanded with this storm that moved in early. It seems to bring the crazies out.”

  “Sure, I can help. Mitch here can track if we need that.”

  “Betty is a special lady. She taught me in Sunday school.” Chief Quay moved farther into the room while his officer left. He frowned, his gaze fixed on a broken vase. “She didn’t deserve this.” He pulled out a camera and started taking pictures of the living room.

  “I can cover the kitchen.” Jake started forward.

  “I appreciate it. We need to find Betty.” The chief turned to Rachel. “Can you make some calls to people she may know and see if she’s with them?”

  “I already called Aunt Linda, and she’s not with her. But I know a few others she’s close with at the fishery. I’ll give them a call.” Rachel pulled out her cell to use the list of phone numbers stored in it. She was relieved to be able to help and needed to stay busy to keep from fixating on what might have happened to her aunt. She picked up the phone and began dialing.

  *

  Jake carefully started on one side of the kitchen and made his way around it. Behind the island in the center in the midst of the emptied flour on the floor, he found footprints—one set, too big to be Betty’s, more like a man’s size eleven. He took a photo with his cell of that and anything else of interest. He refrained from touching anything in case the chief wanted to dust for latent prints.

  So far no evidence that Betty had been here when this happened—except her car parked in the shed. That would need to be searched, too. In fact, after he went through the kitchen he would go out the back arctic entry and check Betty’s old pickup.

  When he reached the pantry, he used a gloved hand to open the door. His gaze riveted to the spots of blood on the wooden floor about six inches inside. He lifted his eyes and scanned the disarray, homing in on bloody fingerprints on a shelf as if someone tried to hold on to it. Maybe trying to get up? Whatever went on in here, a fight occurred in this walk-in pantry. Did the intruder find Betty hiding?

  The question still persisted. Then where is Betty?

  He took more photos, then proceeded to the arctic entry. A pair of boots and a woman’s heavy coat hanging on a peg were the only things in the small room. He took the coat and let Mitch sniff it, then kept hold of it in case he needed it again. His dog smelled the floor and paused by the exit outside. This was probably the way Betty came into her house since this was closer than the front entrance to the shed. Jake returned to the kitchen and grabbed a flashlight on the wall by the door.

  On the stoop, Jake took in the area. The snow falling had filled in any footsteps, but that wouldn’t stop Mitch. His German shepherd sniffed the air and started down the three steps, then headed toward Betty’s pickup.

  As he approached the driver side of the vehicle, he spied a bloody print on the metal handle. Not a good sign. Mitch barked at the door.

  Jake said, “Stay,” then skirted the rear of the old truck and opened the passenger door. The seat was empty.

  Then he investigated under the tarp over the bed of the Ford F-150, using the interior light from the cab. Nothing.

  “Where is she?” Rachel asked as she approached, carrying a flashlight. “I called at least twenty women she knew from church and the fishery, and no one knows where she is. One lady said she got ill after lunch and left. That would mean she should have gotten home by one. What happened in those three hours?”

  Something not good.

  “Is the chief through in the house?”

  “He didn’t find anything in the second bedroom but was going to go through Betty’s. Did you find anything?”

  He hated to tell her. Rachel had always been close to both of her aunts. “Blood in the pantry and on the driver’s door handle.”

  “Do you think someone attacked her in the house and—” Rachel swallowed hard “—somehow she got away? Did she try to leave and that person caught up with her?” Her large brown eyes
shone with unshed tears.

  “I didn’t see any blood inside on the seat. I don’t think she ever opened the door.”

  Rachel blinked once, and a tear ran down her face. She swung around in a full circle, the flashlight sending an arc of illumination across the yard. “Then where is she? Why would anyone want to hurt Aunt Betty?”

  Jake moved to his dog and let him inhale her scent on the coat again. “Find.” While Mitch smelled around, Jake said to Rachel, “Let’s see if he can pick up a trail going away from the house or shed.”

  Blond hair peeking out from under her beanie, Rachel swept her arm to indicate the yard outside the shed. “She could have decided to hide out here because she didn’t have her truck keys on her.”

  “Maybe.”

  “But then why didn’t she come forward when we arrived?” Rachel took one look at his sober expression and added, “Never mind. She would if she could…” Her gaze locked with his. “Could have.”

  Mitch picked up a scent, barked, then headed out of the shed across the field toward a stand of spruce and other evergreens. Giving his dog a long leash, Jake followed with Rachel beside him. Mitch plowed his way through four or five inches of snow.

  At a place his German shepherd had disturbed, Jake yelled, “Halt,” then stooped to examine a couple of drops of blood in the white snow with his flashlight.

  Rachel’s gasp sounded above the noise of the wind. He glanced over his shoulder at her face, white like the snow. He wished he could erase the fear in her eyes.

  “You should return to the house and let the chief know.”

  Rachel shook her head. “I started this. I want to find her. I’ve been praying she’s still alive and only hurt. Time is of the essence. She could freeze to death.”

  He rose, commanded Mitch to continue his search, then took her gloved hand in his. “We’ll do this together.” He felt better having her by his side rather than trekking back to the house alone about five hundred yards away.

  As they trailed behind Mitch, Jake prepared himself. Betty could have been out here without a coat for hours. He stopped again a couple of times when more blood became visible in the glow of his light. Mitch was following Betty’s path closely. If anyone could find her, his dog could.