“He must have been the one to send the text messages to me,” Shane says.
“Which means he has to know your personal cell phone.” I pick up the thought. “Did you give your number to the deputies?”
“Yes, are you saying it’s one of us?” Shane’s voice lowers.
“I’ll gather all the guys and ask them to talk to Larissa,” Chad says. “Some of them are still searching.”
“Actually, let Larissa and I join them one by one.” I gesture to Larissa to follow me. “When you recognize the voice, tug my sleeve.”
“Okay, I can do that.” She walks briskly at my side as we head toward one of the searchers.
We eliminate each man, and we don’t find a sign of Tami. I suspected Randy, especially since Molly is missing and acting suspicious, but at the end, the only two who aren’t cleared are Al and Justin who did not volunteer for the search.
My heart is heavy as I drag myself back to the hotel to give the bad news to Tami’s parents. I’m not giving up, but at this point, I need a bloodhound, and I need one fast. Snow is starting to fall and will cover the scent trail.
My brother, Scott, has a bloodhound, but he’s been living on the road in a camper. He’s extremely secretive ever since his cabin burned down, and he acts like a fugitive, even though he hasn’t violated any laws.
Becca thinks he has post-traumatic stress disorder from an encounter with our mother, Minx, and he either saw something he shouldn’t have seen, like Minx committing a crime, or he’s turned into a recluse because he’s been driven crazy from being shot while chasing a mysterious mountain maiden, one of the mythological nymphs or fairies that lure men deep into the throes of insanity.
I call him anyway, because I need his bloodhound, Nancy.
“Todd? What is it?” His voice is rough and creaky, like he hasn’t spoken to anyone in weeks.
“We have a missing person. Are you close enough to town, and is Nancy with you?”
“Nancy’s always with me,” he says. “I can get to town in thirty minutes.”
“Where are you parked? Maybe I can meet you and bring Nancy down.”
“Now, that don’t make any sense,” he says. “Takes longer to come and go. It’s starting to snow, so I better get down to where you are.”
“You’ve heard about Tami’s new Halloween Hotel, right? She invited you to the grand opening.”
“Yeah, but I’m not much of a party person,” he says. “Is Tami missing from there?”
“How’d you know it’s Tami?”
“Hitch in your voice, bro,” he pronounces as if he’s diagnosed me with a fatal illness. “I’ll be there.”
Thirty-Five
~ Tami ~
I have to keep calm and leave a trail for Todd. I’ve already dropped my cowgirl hat when I struggled with Justin, but he took my phone. Hopefully he left it on, and someone’s calling it. I have to do what I can to delay our progress.
“Keep moving.” He prods me with the gun. I don’t believe he’ll shoot—not if he wants to set up a situation where he’s the hero, but at the same time, I’m not quite sure of his sanity.
“I can’t see where I’m going.” I purposely stumble, crashing into a prickly bush. My shirt catches, and a portion of it rips when he yanks my arm to keep me moving.
“You can if you want to live.” He keeps a firm hold of me and propels me forward.
“This isn’t funny.” I’m sure he doesn’t care, but I’m going to talk anyway. “You know how much trouble you’re going to be in?”
“All I know is you owe me. You kept me away from Mooma.”
His words send chills down my spine. He sounds seriously unhinged. Does he believe I killed Mooma?
“I was only a kid. I didn’t mean to hurt Mooma.” My words come out as grunts and moans as I fall on my knees.
“Get up.” He yanks my arm, but I relax all my muscles, and it’s hard for him to get me moving. I whip my pillowcased face side to side, blindly, and shake like I’m terrified and having a seizure. Actually, I am terrified, and I’m probably about to seize in a panic attack.
He kicks me with his pointy-toed boots. “You’re going to get up and move.”
I’m not going to take this lying down. Wiggling to get out of his way, I’m able to wedge my foot between his legs and trip him up. He tumbles down into a ditch, and I use the opportunity to wriggle out of the pillowcase. Another piece of evidence for Todd. I bet he can analyze any hairs I leave inside as well as saliva for DNA.
“Dang it,” Justin growls, patting around for his gun and trying to point his flashlight. “You bitch. Get up.”
Without the use of my hands, it’s hard for me to get up, but I somehow regain my feet. I can see flashlights in the distance, probably a search party, so I take off that direction.
“You’re going to love me. You owe me.” He comes after me and tackles me.
I hit the ground hard.
“You’re not going to get away with this.”
He slaps me, stinging my face, and I gasp with pain.
I hear him call for backup, and I keep trying to get up, but he’s now decided to press me onto the ground and sit on my mouth so I can’t shout. I wish I could bite his ass, but his jeans are foul-smelling and oozing with dirt. I’m suffocating, and when he unleashes a silent stinker, I almost wish he’d shot me.
All I can do is peek at the flashlights swinging back and forth, but they don’t come closer. Instead, they converge to a place farther from me, like they found something.
The crunch of tires on gravel makes me realize we’re closer to one of the old logging roads than I thought.
“She’s not cooperating,” Justin says as several strong hands grab me and heft me into the back of a van.
“She doesn’t have to,” a gruff man says. “You’re the idiot who thinks she’s your friend.”
The sliding door closes, and Justin’s co-conspirators get into the front seat, leaving me and Justin alone in the back.
I give him my best imploring look, opening my blue eyes wide and saying, “You have to help me. You are my friend, Justin. We always got along, and I was nice to you.”
“Quiet.” He puts his finger on his lips. “I’m not going to hurt you, but it’s because of you I lost all those years with Mooma.”
“What lost years? I didn’t do anything to Mooma. It was an accident.”
“You’ll see, sweetheart. Be a good girl and make it up to me.” He pulls my head and shoulders into his lap and positions me so I’m looking up at him. He strokes my hair and untangles some of the knots, then runs his fingers over the contours of my face.
His expression is both worried and stupidly love-stricken. I can’t believe I never suspected him.
“I’ve finally got you where I want you,” he murmurs with a tender voice. “You’re going to like where we’re taking you. We’re going to be so happy together, but first, you have to pay for what you did.”
I quirk my eyebrow. “What did I do?”
“You made a mistake, Tami Tutu, but I can forgive you if you promise to marry me.” His grubby fingers caress the shell of my ear.
Gross.
I shake my head vehemently. How can he be so crazy to think I’d want to marry him?
Immediately, his eyes narrow, and his face scrunches into a frown. “You will learn to obey your master.”
I swallow without moving my mouth. He’s more deranged than I thought. It’s true that he was left with foster families, but he always behaved and didn’t get in trouble. I’m sure he grieved for his mother, but he never mentioned her and seemed to adjust to life without her.
If anything, he became more sociable after graduating high school as valedictorian. His classmates voted him most likely to succeed, although no one looked down at him when he remained in town. He fixed computers and built websites, printed pamphlets and did some accounting work during tax time.
“Don’t look so frightened,” he says in his honeyed-crooning voice
. “I’m going to treat you real good once you’re my wife. But first, your dad has to pay the dowry. Now, you rest up well and be ready for our wedding.”
Yikes. Seriously freaky. I know Todd is looking for me, so my first job is to stay alive. At least he’s not going to kill me. I’ll have to catch him unaware, so I’ll obey him and act compliant.
Closing my eyes, I pretend to snuggle in his arms and get comfortable. Believe me, it’s an almost impossible task taking breaths inside the van. Justin and the other two brutes emit bowel breath on a regular basis. What did they chow down on? The Buzzard Bean Carrion Chili at Sixty Miners? I try holding my breath, but that doesn’t last long, and I sound like I’m snoring while huffing and puffing through my mouth in a desperate bid to save my olfactory glands.
“That’s right, you go to sleep,” Justin croons. “We’ll be home soon. Rest well, sweet Tami Tutu.”
His cracked lips graze over my forehead, and I turn my face toward his chest so he can’t kiss me easily. Too bad his cologne isn’t strong enough to cover up the clouds of putrid gut gas leaking from the men’s unholy orifices.
The van rocks steadily, sometimes grinding gears and other times struggling to traverse the unkempt logging trail.
Wherever we’re going, I know Todd will find us. He’ll never give up, not because he claims he loves me, but because he’s a relentless lawman bent on doing right and protecting his town.
After some miles of rough road, the van crawls up the bank of rocks and makes a turn. I can hear sounds of traffic, and the road noise smooths out.
This isn’t good, because we’re speeding away from Todd.
“Where are we going?” I mumble through my teeth. Hey, any filter, no matter how gappy, is preferable to a full-on assault of eau de sewage.
“What did you say, sweetheart?” Justin flips the hair from my eyes. “You’ll like it there. We’ll have tea parties every day, and you’ll love the piano we got for you. Everything will be old-fashioned and pretty, and it’ll be our home, sweet home.”
“Could you tell me exactly where this sweet home of ours will be?” I smile as innocently as I can.
“Oh, don’t you be worrying your pretty head. As long as your daddy pays up, we’ll all be one big, happy family. Mark my words.”
He leans down, lips puckered, and it’s all I can do to keep from barfing. “Now, now, Justin, dear, don’t you know it’s bad luck to kiss the bride before the wedding?”
Thankfully, he believes me.
~ Todd ~
The bloodhound comes up empty.
Well, not quite, because we found Tami’s hat and a strip of cloth from her jacket. We also found a pillowcase with a few blond hairs inside, and a gun which we’re going to dust for fingerprints.
Nancy loses the scent trail on a logging road where a mishmash of footprints disappears into a vehicle. Because of the fresh snowfall, it’s pretty easy to see where they’ve gone.
“Donnelly, get the Tahoe over here,” I call out to Shane. “Chad, you’re riding shotgun.”
At times like this, I trust my brother to have my back.
“What about me and Nancy?” Scott holds the leash to the bloodhound. “You might need us if you lose the tire tracks.”
“Okay, in the back then. They couldn’t have gone far.”
Moments later, Shane pulls up with the all-wheel drive, and we pile into it. Unfortunately, Scott was right. We lost the trail when the tracks turn up an embankment onto Highway 49.
“Any idea which way they went?” I kick the pavement in frustration. The traffic going both directions has covered up any tire marks.
“We don’t even have a vehicle identification to put out an APB,” Shane says. “Is Tami’s phone on?”
“I’ve been calling it, and it goes to voicemail immediately. Either it ran out of juice, or they turned it off.”
“We’re going to have to question Larissa again,” Shane says. “I’ll prepare a lineup. Maybe she got a glimpse of the kidnapper’s face.”
“It’s either Justin or Al. They’re the only two unaccounted for.”
“Assuming it’s one of the deputies and not someone unknown,” Shane says. “At this point, we have nothing.”
“Oh, we have Dillon. He’d better tell everything he knows.” I swing my body back into the Tahoe. “Meanwhile, we get the files on Al and Justin and put out an APB on them and their vehicles.”
I break every speed limit to get back to Colson’s Corner. We visit Justin’s apartment—no surprise, he’s not there. Neither are Al and Dillon at their homes. While Shane goes back to the Bee Sting to interview patrons, Scott goes with Nancy to give the news to Linx. I burst into the station and take Diana into the interview room.
“I told you I’m not speaking without a lawyer present,” she says. “I’m innocent of Viola’s murder.”
“I’m not here to talk about the murder.” I lean across the table and give her a hard stare. “Tami King has been kidnapped, and your nephew could be involved.”
“Oh, so now you’re going to pin this on my family, all to protect old King George. I get it. You cops are on the take, and now that we’re getting close to having a valid claim on Tami’s property, you want to derail us.” She doesn’t sound the least bit worried that Tami is lost.
“I’m trying to get to the truth because Tami’s in danger.”
She rolls her eyes and snickers. “Ask me if I care. That pretty princess has gotten her way her entire life. I’m sure this is all a big show on her part to drive business to her scary hotel which lies on top of my gold mine. If anyone has a motive to kill Viola, it’s Tami. Viola said she had the original claim on the Hanging Glory Mine, and it was written in Chinese.”
“Did she show it to you?” I’m seething to get to the bottom of Tami’s disappearance, but sometimes an indirect approach yields more information.
“Not yet. I paid her for the claim documents, but that old witch held out on me. She said the information was worth twice what we agreed to.” Diana’s upper lip curls into a snarl.
“In that case, you have motive to kill Viola.”
“Not until I get my hands on the claim papers,” Diana says.
“Would paper have lasted this long? Who would be around to notarize it or make it official? Are you sure Viola wasn’t selling you a load of bunk?”
“Our family is from the earliest days of the Gold Rush,” Diana says. “Back in the day, the Chinese and Hawaiians came up this way since they were discriminated against down in Coloma where placer gold was easy to pan. They came up over these ridges and worked the smaller streams where the gold concentrations dropped off big-time. The Hawaiian didn’t write anything down, but my ancestors, the Chinese guys did. They found the streams disappearing into the mountainside and discovered veins of underground gold. They took their pickaxes and pounded on the rock to break the gold free. It was hard, backbreaking work, and at first, no one else cared because the rest of the Forty-Niners jumped over this area for easier pickings elsewhere.”
“Spare the history lesson. This has nothing to do with Tami and the Kings.”
“Would it interest you to know that King Henry, George’s great-grandfather stole that nugget from Wing Van Dirk? My great-grandfather?”
“Are you establishing a motive for Dillon to kidnap Tami, along with his buddies, Al and Justin?”
Diana glares at me. “You’re not going to pin this on Dillon. He might be friends with the other two, but Viola’s research proves the old family story is true.”
I slam my hand on the table, making her jump. “I’m not interested in your family story. Tell me where Dillon, Al, and Justin hang out. Tell me everything you know about them.”
“You should know by now I’m not the murderer, if you’ve got half a brain cell. Drop the bogus charges, and I’ll help you find Tami.”
“No, can do. You made terroristic threats to blow up the hotel, and I can hold you on that charge alone.”
“Oh, that’
s not a terrorist threat.” She shakes her head, and her eyes bulge. “Honestly, Sheriff. That hotel is cursed. I heard Baja Angel in the basement.”
“Wait a second. Are you saying you heard someone in the basement? When?”
“I’m not telling you unless you take off these cuffs and let me walk.”
“The mayor says you stole the pickaxe.”
“I didn’t steal it. I borrowed it to test a theory.” She shakes her cuffed hands at me. “Listen, Sheriff, if you want to nail the dangerous murderer and the guy who kidnapped those girls, you better let me go.”
“Why should I?”
“Deputize me, and I’ll tell you what I did with the pickaxe.”
“Ah ha! You admit to stealing it.” I point to the voice recorder. “And you are on record trying to bribe a cop.”
“You’ll be erasing all of that to get your Tami Tutu back.”
“If you’re withholding evidence, I can throw the book at you.”
She lifts her eyebrow and gives me an exaggerated wink. “You won’t. You love your Tami Tutu too much to jeopardize her life.”
“Tell me what you know.” I glance at a text message from Shane. He’s picked up Al and Dillon for drunkenness and peeing on the jack-o-lanterns in front of Joey’s diner.
“You’re not going to let me go, are you?” Her voice is low and growly.
I shake my head, confident that Al and Dillon will give their friend away.
“Then take me back to my jail cell. You’re obviously too straight and narrow to do a deal with the devil.”
I flick the recorder off. “Tell me why I should deal with you.”
“Old King Henry was a murderer, and the first sheriff, William Weaver, let him go for a cut of the action, of course.” She pushes to her feet. “Too bad you’ll never know what they have planned for Tami Tutu.”
“I don’t have time for nonsense.” I shove her into the cell and meet up with Shane who has Al and Dillon.
Unfortunately, they’re too soused to give any useful information, and they both claim they know nothing about Justin and his weirdness.
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