“Carter,” Marc stated, shaking his head while muttering.
Mitch added, “I’ve been in contact with my TSA counterpart in DC, Carin Torgensen, and she is ready for us to continue this investigation with their approval. She’s not happy with what we’ve uncovered and wants us to find out how they lost a valuable drug dog handler and now know that an attempt was made on her life.”
“We need you to interview Jocelyn today,” Jack ordered, nodding to Blaise. “Take Chad with you again. Luke, you continue to follow up on those that have been met with already. Mitch, see if you can get a rush on the damage to her car that was from the other automobile hitting her. Marc, I want you and Blaise to go back up on the mountain and see what you can find.”
“So what are we looking for specifically?” Marc asked.
“She didn’t just wander up on that road leading to nowhere,” Jack explained. “She would have been there for a reason and my guess is that if we find that reason, we’ll find who tried to kill her.”
Chapter 17
Sitting in Dr. Saren’s office the next day, Grace relived the night before. “I’m so glad you could see me today! I woke with such fear, but the things started coming back to me. Then I tried so hard to remember about my childhood. Does this mean it’s gone forever?”
“No, no,” Dr. Saren assured. “Repressed memories can easily come back in bits and pieces. It’s usually not like TV where someone wakes up and suddenly their entire memory is back.”
Sighing heavily, she looked down at her hands, tightly squeezed together in her lap. At the counselor’s prompting, she admitted, “I remember so many good things about when I was growing up. But I don’t remember my parents’ deaths. Blaise said he could find out all the details.”
“Do you want him to?”
“I…I’m not sure. Right now, it just feels good to remember pleasant times.”
“Then I think you should write down all of the things you remember from your childhood and save the sadder occurrences for later. You may recall them on your own or maybe from another dream. Or you may decide to let him find out and tell you. But it needs to be on your time.”
The counselor peered at Grace for several long, silent minutes. “What else is on your mind?”
Lifting her gaze, she admitted, “I’m kind of lost.” A small giggle escaped, and she added, “I guess that sounds pretty dumb coming from someone who can’t remember hardly anything. What I mean is that I want to do something. But what? I know Gypsy and I trained as a drug dog and handler, but,” shrugging, “I don’t remember that right now.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Something. Anything. I’ve been at Blaise’s house for a few days and help with his rescue animals. But that doesn’t take long. He doesn’t want me out much because we don’t know who was after me.”
“And you’re bored?”
“God, yes!”
“You said that you had made some friends…a few former clients of mine.” Seeing Grace’s nod, Dr. Saren suggested, “Then why don’t you spend time with them. It’s fine to want your memories back, but you don’t want to waste time not building a new life.”
“I do like spending time with them. I can’t really go into the city right now, but one of them has a place in the country. Maybe Gypsy and I could visit and enjoy some time there.”
“I think that makes perfect sense.”
Standing to leave, Grace hesitated at the door. Turning back, she asked, “Do you think my memories will come back at night?”
“At night, your mind is relaxed and that is often when we have our clearest thoughts. So, yes, your memories could come from your dreams. Are you afraid to sleep? Afraid of the nightmares?”
Grace thought of the man who held her through the night, first with his body worshiping hers and then in care when he soothed her fears. Her lips curved into a slight smile as she shook her head. “No…no, I’m not afraid anymore.”
*
Arriving at the Albert County Sheriff’s office, Blaise and Chad walked in out of the summer heat into the cool interior. Mitch had contacted the office, preparing the Sheriff for the Saints’ visit.
Showing no surprise to be greeted by Sherriff Antonio Montez, shaking hands, he offered a friendly greeting and escorted them back to a small conference room.
“Gentlemen, I understand you want to talk to Deputy Jocelyn Montez, my daughter. I’ve radioed for her to come in and she should be here shortly.”
Blaise expected to be questioned as to the reason for their visit, but the Sheriff was completely professional. Declining the offer of coffee, they exchanged pleasantries until Jocelyn entered the room.
Petite, with ebony hair sleeked back in a tight bun, the uniformed deputy confidently walked in, immediately shaking their hands. The Sheriff nodded at the assembly and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Jocelyn turned her dark eyes toward the men and cocked her head to the side. “How may I help you?”
“We’re investigating the disappearance of Grace Kennedy—”
“WHAT?” she cried out, her eyes large, confusion filling her face. “Disappearance? What do you mean…I mean…she’s—”
“Deputy Montez, she’s been reported missing and we’re talking to those that were close to her.”
Dropping all semblance of composure, her eyes filled with tears as she blinked several times in an attempt to keep them at bay. Taking a ragged breath, she said, “Please tell me what you know and how I can help.”
“Why don’t you tell us about your relationship with Ms. Kennedy first.”
Nodding, she drew in a fortifying breath before beginning. “We met at the K-9 Training Facility. We were the only two females and kind of bonded immediately over that initially. But then we became friends. There was another trainee, Carter Boren, and the three of us formed a tight group there.”
“And after graduation from the K-9 program?”
At that, she winced. “We stayed in touch…but we were both so busy. God, that sounds terrible, doesn’t it? I talked to her about six weeks ago, just as she was moving closer to her job. But, I’m ashamed to admit that I haven’t talked to her since then.” Thinking for a moment, she said, “No, it was sooner than that. She had just worked for the RIA TSA for about a week and it was my birthday. She couldn’t come to the party, but called that night.”
Chad, jotting everything down, asked, “How did she sound?”
Smiling, Jocelyn said, “Great. Just great. She was loving the airport trainee work and was expecting to finish on schedule and become a full-fledged TSA employee there.”
“Did you know that Carter now has her old job?”
A flash of disgust crossed her face, but she quickly replaced it with a professional demeanor. “No, no. I had no idea. Carter and I…haven’t talked much after K-9 graduation. Well, actually not at all.”
“Can you tell us why?”
Sighing heavily, Jocelyn turned her head, staring out of the window for a moment. Finally, she turned back to the two men and said, “It’s rather embarrassing. I never even told Grace what happened. After the graduation party, we were fairly intoxicated.” Sitting up straighter, looking them in the eye, she said, “Carter and I spent the night together. It was truly a one-night stand. We both knew it. But we did go out the next morning for breakfast and he was such an…ass. He talked about Grace the whole time. How she got the job at RIA because she was a female. How he really needed the money and she could still live off her parents’ insurance money.” Shaking her head in disgust, she said, “I was angry with myself that I had even slept with him and irritated that I thought we were such friends while in training. Anyway, after that, I never called and he didn’t either.”
Offering a gentle nod, Chad thanked her for her candor.
“So,” she said, after taking another deep breath, “Grace is missing and he has her job. Damn.” Lifting her gaze, she implored, “What can you tell me about her?”
“Nothing right now,” Blaise lied smoothly, not willing to have anyone know she was alive and well. “We had a report from her apartment manager and we’re now investigating.”
“Gypsy? Her dog?” Jocelyn asked, eyes widening again. “Is she missing too?” Seeing Blaise’s nod, she said, “She would never leave her dog. They must be together.”
“Can I ask about your work here?” Chad queried.
With a self-deprecating chuckle, she said, “Nepotism is alive and well, I suppose. My dad’s been the Sheriff of this county for the last two terms. He wanted me to come and join the K-9 team here and,” offering a little shrug, “it is home. But I do work part time at the Charlestown airport. It’s a small airport, so they use me sometimes to fill in.”
Finishing the interview, they all stood, Blaise lifting his hand to shake hers. “We’ll find out what happened to her,” he promised, seeing despair cross her face.
“Please keep me informed,” she begged. Gaining their acquiescence, the three headed out of the conference room and toward the front door.
Blaise noticed the Sheriff eyeing them from behind the counter, offering his goodbye as well.
As he walked through the front door, he glanced behind him, seeing daughter and father deep in conversation.
*
Blaise picked Marc up at his house. Marc’s property was very similar to Blaise’s—plenty of wooded acres. But Marc had built his house from the ground up. A two-story log cabin, much smaller than Jack’s, it had been his project for over a year. He had help with the log building on the outside, but most of the inside had been finished with his own two hands. It was rustic but comfortable—just like Marc himself.
While Blaise drove, Marc said, “I’ve had Luke give me whatever he could about the area and topography. There’s a small private airstrip on one of the farms, but it has no hangars, just an old outbuilding as the office. From what I can tell, it houses only crop dusters. I’ve checked with a few of my pilot buddies who’ve flown over that area, but so far nothing that would indicate a place where Grace would have gone or why.”
Blaise maneuvered the snaky curves going up the old two-lane road, noting the drop off on the other side. “I can’t believe she had to speed down this road in the dark,” he bit out, his voice dark with anger.
“Do you want to know where she went over the side?” Marc asked cautiously.
“No.” A pause. “Yes,” he said, heaving a sigh.
“We’ll watch for it on the way back down.”
Thirty minutes later, the road leveled out, meandering through farmland and woods. A few houses dotted along the sides, but most were placed back from the road. After a few more miles, they noticed a crop dusting plane land behind a grove of trees.
“You in the mood to check it out?” Blaise asked.
“Hell, yeah,” Marc agreed, eager to see what the tiny airstrip consisted of.
Turning off the road onto a gravel drive that went for a mile through a wooded area, they came to a clearing. An older barn sat next to a small wooden building. The dust was still billowing behind the old plane that taxied toward the barn.
Parking next to the building, the two men got out and walked toward the pilot, who looked at them, surprise on his face. He sauntered over to them, wiping his face with an old, faded, red bandana.
“Can I help y’all?” he called out.
Marc easily took charge of the conversation as he moved toward the plane. “Sorry to bother you, but we were driving by and noticed your crop duster. I told my co-worker I had to stop and take a look.”
The man crinkled his brow as he twisted around to follow Marc’s progress over to his old plane before turning his gaze back to Blaise.
Marc patted the side of the plane as he looked it over. “My grandpa used to fly a Boeing Stearman PT-17. First plane I ever went up in.”
The man’s grey bushy eyebrows lifted as a smile split his face. “Yeah, yeah, I remember those. I bought an old used one and flew it for a few years.”
“My dad bought a 1980 Piper Brave—”
“No, kiddin’? One of them yellow ones?”
Marc laughed and nodded. “And that was the first plane I ever flew.” Sticking out his hand, he said, “Marc Jenkins. And this is my friend, Blaise Hanssen.”
“Bob Davison,” the older man said, shaking their hands. “Well, I don’t get many visitors up here, but you’re welcome to come into the barn and sit a spell. I’ve got some cold water and beer in a little ice chest I brought from home this morning.”
Blaise, taking his cue from Marc, followed the man as he led them to the ancient barn. Settling down on a couple of rickety wooden chairs, that Blaise was afraid would not hold his weight, he took the proffered beer.
The conversation immediately crackled with the excitement of two pilots, finding a love of old planes. Blaise hid his grin, knowing Marc was working up to his questions.
“Are there any other airstrips around?”
“Well, I think I’m the only crop duster around here. Not many people use the old ways anymore. Sometimes, I see some planes flying kind of low, but they might come out of the Charlestown airport.”
Blaise and Marc handed their bottles back to the old man as they stood. He grasped Marc’s hand and said, “You ever want to take a trip down memory lane, son, you just come on up and we’ll go up in that old girl out there.”
“I just might take you up on that, sir,” Marc laughed as they left the barn.
Back in the car, Blaise glanced over to Marc. “What do you think?”
“On the surface, just an old farmer who, years ago, started doing his own crop dusting and keeps it up.”
“And below the surface?”
Marc shook his head. “Don’t know. Something flashed in his eyes when I asked about other airstrips.” Shaking his head again, he said, “But, then, I might be looking for something that’s just not there.”
“At this point, to keep Grace safe, I’m willing to follow up on everything,” Blaise vowed.
Chapter 18
Grace smiled at Bethany as they turned down the lane where the large wooden sign proclaimed Mountville Cabins Rental and Wedding Venue.
“Oh, this is lovely!” Grace exclaimed as the house came into view.
“This was the house my grandparents built and lived in their whole lives. They lived upstairs and the registration lobby and guest recreation hall were downstairs. There are ten cabins they built that circle around the little lake over there.”
“And you lived here for a while too?”
“Yep. My grandmother kept the cabins after my grandfather died and, when she began having health problems, I quit my marketing job in Richland and moved here.” She continued to drive, saying, “I’ll take you on the grand tour so you can see the place.”
Bethany pointed out the small, but neat, A-frame cabins that were spaced around the lake. When they came to a place with a bench and flowers planted around, she said, “There used to be a cabin there, but Jack had it torn down and a garden planted instead.”
“I have a feeling there’s a story behind that?” Grace asked gently.
The pretty blond looked her way, her braid flipping from her shoulder to her back. “There was a man who used to stay there all the time. He was a serial killer and, well, before he was caught, he took me as well.”
Sucking in her breath, Grace’s face showed surprise and heartfelt sympathy. “I am so sorry,” she gushed.
Shrugging slightly, Bethany said, “All’s well that ends well. And now you can see why Dr. Saren is my therapist also!”
Stunned into silence, Grace did not know what to say. Bethany took pity on her and said, “So do you want to hear about how I met Jack?”
“Absolutely!”
Laughing as she parked the truck by the pier leading out over the lake, Bethany admitted, “It was definitely a serendipitous meeting! Gram, who was already suffering from Alzheimer’s, wandered off and got onto Jack’s super-duper secret pro
perty. He and the others came charging out of the woods, encircling us.”
Grace, entranced with the story, rushed out of the vehicle to make sure she did not miss any of it. Gypsy, excited, jumped down with her.
“Gram thought he was someone from her past. Jack thought we were intruders. The other men seemed confused. And I was just pissed.” Bethany’s blue eyes met Grace’s chocolate ones, as she admitted, “Well, pissed…and turned on!”
Laughing, Grace nodded as she said, “When I first saw Blaise, I ran away. I wasn’t sure who he was or why he wanted to help, but I was not at all ready to take a chance. I was afraid of everybody and everything.”
The two women walked out on the dock and sat on the end. Gypsy trotted faithfully by her side until Grace let her run. “Go girl, chase some squirrels.” The dog took off, enjoying the summer day and the chance to run in the woods.
Leaning back with their faces to the sun and their weight resting on their arms behind them, “This feels so good,” Grace moaned. “How nice for you to have been able to spend your childhood vacations here.”
“It was good, although Gramps always put me to work.” Laughing again, she said, “But that was good. It made it easier when I came to here to live.”
“So tell me about the other women,” Grace requested, then clarified, “The other Saints’ women. Did they all meet under odd circumstances?”
“Oh yeah. Well, you know Miriam and Cam’s story…how he was sent to Mexico to rescue her when she was kidnapped while working as a Red Cross nurse. Faith has a special gift. She sometimes gets visions and helped the Saints on a case. She and Bart hated each other at first.”
Thinking of how protective the large, handsome, blond was over his petite fiancé, Grace was surprised to find out they did not like each other at first.
“In fact, the women’ll be out later. Bart and Faith’s wedding will take place here in a couple of weeks.”
Remember Love: Saints Protection & Investigations Page 14