“No one is inside the car.”
He didn’t know whether to be happy or sad at that pronouncement. Then the chief opened the driver’s door and leaned down to pop the trunk. Oliver felt some relief when he saw the trunk was empty as well. But dread settled in like a cold, heavy, wet fog.
Where was Anna?
27
There was nothing wrong with Anna’s car. There were no keys, and when Oliver produced his keys, the car started easily. If she’d parked the car here herself, she could have easily walked back to the road to flag someone down. But why leave a perfectly running car?
Tess immediately called Sergeant Logan back to the scene.
He did his own once-over of the car. Wearing a stoic cop face, he stood next to Tess and Oliver. “It will take some time to call in all the personnel in the area’s search and rescue team. If you want, I’ll go get us some coffee or water for while we wait.”
“Thanks, Steve. That’d be nice.” Tess wasn’t hungry or thirsty but worried for Oliver. While they waited for Steve to return, Victor Camus showed up.
“Can I help with anything?” he asked. “I heard the call for search and rescue on my scanner.”
Since Tess didn’t know the man too well, she wasn’t sure, but Oliver was happy to see him.
“He’s the best tracker in the area,” the pastor explained.
Tess outlined the situation.
Victor shook his head. “I’ll wait for the dogs. If I go traipsing about the brush now, I’ll mess up any scent trail.”
Tess saw the disappointment in Oliver’s face that Victor couldn’t charge in and search; she felt his impatience. Waiting was the most difficult task in the world. But Camus had a steadying effect on the pastor, and she was glad that he’d shown up.
Steve returned a few minutes later, but it was an hour before the first Jackson County search and rescue vehicles began arriving, and another half hour before the sheriff arrived and organized everyone so he could brief them. Tess was certain the fear that the woman was dead was dancing on the fringes of everyone’s thoughts, if not completely settled in.
But the first dogs on scene showed no indication Anna was in the area. In fact, there was no sign of Anna Macpherson anywhere within a large radius of the car, and the investigation took an ominous turn.
The text messages were obvious fakes. Tess believed Anna had not sent the ones Oliver received.
The disappearance was now deemed “foul play suspected.” A somber Victor took Oliver home while Tess stayed to talk to the Jackson County sheriff as the search and rescue teams packed up to leave and a tow truck arrived for Anna’s car.
Tess had a long conversation with the sheriff. He had the resources to conduct a wide-ranging search and was moving forward, and for that, Tess was grateful.
“It’s obvious her car didn’t break down. But if she was kidnapped, why?” Sheriff Gray wondered. “Did she pick up a hitchhiker and get into trouble? Yet her absence would seem to indicate she was taken somewhere in another car. We’ve got more questions than answers.”
“I agree,” Tess said. “If she was kidnapped for ransom, no one has contacted Pastor Mac.”
“You hear anything at all, let me know.”
“I will.” Tess thanked him, grateful that Gray was thorough, easy to talk to, and not a game player.
By Saturday morning the case was front page and helicopters were scouring the forest from the air. Search and rescue sent teams into the area where the car was found to check out some old logging roads, but there was no sign or scent of Anna. The consensus was someone in another car took her from the scene. The million-dollar question was why.
Mayor Dixon had taped a poignant and classy interview for TV while Tess was in Butte Falls, Tess had to admit. She hoped it would bring calls, because it was taped before they’d found the car. The only downside to the interview was that second-guessers were questioning her reticence to start a large-scale search and call for helicopters the minute the missing report had been filed. She resisted the urge to be snarky and say, “Until we knew where the car was, we had no idea where to search.” To mobilize man and machine they needed a starting place.
As for the search, Anna Macpherson could be anywhere in an area as big as Long Beach and covered in trees. Tess was up late studying a topographical map of the area between her town and Octavio’s church.
At breakfast Saturday morning, yawning, she was still looking at the map, and that caught Addie’s attention.
“You think Anna’s in there somewhere?” She filled Tess’s coffee cup.
Anna had displaced Glen as the topic of conversation, though Tess couldn’t shake the feeling that the two cases were one.
Tess hiked a shoulder. “No, I don’t. It’s looking as if someone took Anna somewhere. She could be anywhere. This is so frustrating. I’d rather do just about anything other than wait. But there’s almost nothing to do right now except wait.” She held out her hands, palms up.
“Kidnapped? By who and why?” Addie was aghast. She set her coffeepot down and leaned over the table to look Tess in the eye. “Please find her.”
The concern and fear in her eyes radiated across the table and hit Tess hard. She swallowed, put her hand over Addie’s. “I will. . . . I will.”
She wasn’t hungry, but Tess ordered an omelet for breakfast anyway, knowing she’d need the energy. Addie gave a satisfied nod and moved on to another table.
Through her sleep-deprived fog, Tess felt the full import of finding Anna’s car all over again and it took her breath away. Oliver had prayed last night for his wife, and while Tess listened, she had too much experience under her belt to believe there would be a positive result to Anna’s situation. It hurt. Anna was a victim in this mess; Tess had to believe that. Oliver obviously believed in God and that his God had some modicum of control over this life. If that were true, why did innocents like Anna suffer, even die, at the hands of evil men?
It brought back the memory of that day, years ago, her sixteenth birthday. She’d been so excited. She and her dad were going to celebrate with a b-day Dodgers game. They were both true-blue Dodgers fans. He worked days and was planning an early out so they’d make the game. She was waiting for his shift to end, his car to pull into the driveway.
But it wasn’t her dad’s car that pulled into the driveway. It was the chief of police bringing the news that Daniel O’Rourke was never going to come home. He’d stepped in front of a battered woman to protect her from her crazed husband and taken a bullet in the forehead. He died instantly on the ground in front of a beat-up Long Beach duplex. His partner, Ronnie Riggs, returned fire and killed the husband, but it was little consolation to sixteen-year-old Tess.
Emotions from that day came flooding back. Tess choked them down, gulping coffee and wondering how anyone could believe God was good when innocent, even heroic people died too soon due to the actions of evil men.
Tess cast a glance around the dining room, struggling to keep her composure. She wiped her eyes, hoping no one noticed, and forced her thoughts back to the present.
She’d been up late with Pastor Macpherson and Officer Bender, hashing over any possible scenario for why someone would kidnap Anna. Macpherson was shell-shocked but he was still helpful. He pulled up a file he kept of all the threatening e-mails he’d received over the years—there weren’t many—hoping maybe they held a clue, maybe this was personal, not related to Glen. But the threats were all directed at Oliver. Anna was never mentioned.
None of it made sense. The Macphersons were not wealthy, and if the bag of money were the issue, no demands had been made. Tess submitted requests for Anna’s phone records, and Macpherson had logged into their bank account. There had been no activity on the debit card for a week. As for the phone, it was an older model with GPS, but there was no ping, so the device was obviously off.
This morning Tess had noticed all the activity over at the church. She could see cars filling up the lot as if it were Sunday befo
re she left her room to come to breakfast.
Help and support or folks looking to stare at tragedy? Tess wondered. Then she chastised herself for being so cynical. Anna was a nice person. Even though Tess herself had only known the woman for a couple of months, she felt her absence keenly. These people who’d known and loved her for years must be hurting.
She ate half of her omelet, then asked Addie for a thermos of coffee to go.
Before Addie handed Tess the coffee, she said, “Don’t wear yourself out. Call the sheriff if you need to.”
“I’ve talked to the sheriff at length, Addie. Don’t worry. I’m not afraid to ask for help if I think I need it.” Even after she made the comment to Addie, she felt a twinge of guilt. Glen’s murder investigation had taken a backseat to Anna’s disappearance. Both deserved a thorough look. Should she hand one off to an agency with more resources?
But a thought nagged: if they were related, one and the same case, then logically, Anna was most likely dead. It pained Tess to consider that thought.
Tess left the restaurant and headed for her office. Yeah, she’d spoken to the sheriff and he was already helping her by doing the house-to-house knock-and-talk on Crowfoot. He’d also gotten a helicopter in the air. But no matter how much help she had, she needed a motive, a starting point, and didn’t have one. That was driving her crazy.
A group of people was waiting for her outside the police station when she arrived. She didn’t recognize any of them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t from Rogue’s Hollow. Tess doubted she’d met everyone.
“Can I help you all?”
“Are you the chief?” a woman asked.
“Yes.”
“We’re here to help find Anna Macpherson.”
“What are you doing to find her?” another asked.
“I’m doing all I can to find her—”
“Looks like you’re going to sit in your office and drink coffee.”
“Yeah, you got donuts in there?”
An ugly laughter rippled through the group.
“Are you only good at shooting children and not at helping adults?”
That comment struck like a baton blow and Tess blinked. Had she failed Anna? She took a deep breath and moved up to the top step and faced the crowd. “Search and rescue found no indication Anna was anywhere near her car.”
“Send out a helicopter or search dogs. Do something—we pay you for that.”
“Helicopters are up, but the dogs didn’t key on anything—”
“Is that just an excuse?”
Tess tensed, felt perspiration form on her forehead, and worked to keep a cop face. She’d faced hostile crowds before, but this unexpected group was hitting like a thousand bee stings, ripping the scab off the wound from the Cullen Hoover shooting. That battle had rocked her self-confidence, and she suddenly felt so completely inadequate.
The group started to get uglier, angry, but someone approaching caught Tess’s eye. It was Oliver Macpherson.
A person in the crowd saw him also, and like a wave they turned toward him.
“We’re trying to get the police to do something to find your wife,” the first woman said.
“All she knows how to do is shoot kids.”
For a second, for Tess, it was Long Beach all over again. If Oliver hadn’t been there, if his quiet presence hadn’t bolstered her, Tess wasn’t certain she would have been able to stand calmly.
Macpherson stepped toward Tess and the crowd parted.
“The chief is doing everything in her power to find Anna,” he said. “I heard some very unhelpful suggestions coming from this group. Chief O’Rourke hasn’t taken any time off since Anna went missing; she’s doing everything possible. I appreciate your help, but casting aspersions on the chief won’t help.”
There were murmurs, a little contrition.
“It just doesn’t seem like anything is happening,” someone called out.
“Well, as soon as we have a better handle on what we have, you can bet a lot will be happening,” the pastor said. “Please, you’ll help Anna and me by praying for this situation and supporting the chief.” He pointed across the street. “At the church a group is forming to search, knock on doors. If you want to help, Travis and Jethro are the people to talk to.”
Slowly the crowd broke up, several people shaking Macpherson’s hand as they left the station. He turned to Tess. “Sorry about that.”
She swallowed, some strength returning. “Not your fault. People watch too many cop shows on TV that they think adequately represent reality.” She shrugged with fake nonchalance, wanting to open the door, step inside, and shut it tightly behind her. “Makes them expect us to be miracle workers. I’m just a cop, not clairvoyant.”
He nodded. “I came to see if I could help you with anything.”
She pushed into the station, empty today. Civilian personnel were off on the weekends. The officer on duty was Del. Tess had heard him respond to a vehicle versus deer near the trailer park. Bender wanted to come in on his own time, but Tess had advised him to get some sleep, said she would call if she needed him. Right now her thin wall of composure was about to crack.
“Give me a second,” she said, handing Macpherson the thermos of coffee. “I’ll be back in a jiff. Take a seat in my office.”
Without waiting for an acknowledgment, she hurried to the ladies’ room. Tess closed the door to the small room behind her and leaned against it, wiping the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her trembling hand.
I should have known, sooner or later, something like this would happen, she thought to herself. The shooting was never going to let her go. Wiping her sweaty palms on her thighs, Tess took a deep breath, fighting panic. It wouldn’t have hit so hard if some part of her didn’t feel that she’d let Anna and Oliver Macpherson down in some way. Maybe she should have left law enforcement completely, given up the vain hope she’d be able to salvage her career. Were people dead because she couldn’t let go? Was that honoring her father?
Pop. Always in the back of her mind was her father. He’d died a hero, and Tess was never going to reach his stature. She was tainted, frozen, ineffectual.
Stepping to the sink, she cupped her hand, filled it with water, and splashed some on her face. The cold water was bracing, but it didn’t stop the tears. She let them fall, feeling as if her only way out was to give everything to the sheriff and leave, go home to Long Beach, find a place to hide and not ever be in a place where she’d let people down like this.
Let her father down.
Sucking it up, hating the weakness of tears, Tess grabbed a couple of paper towels and patted her face dry, wishing harder than she had in weeks that her father were there for her to talk to.
Staring at her red-faced reflection in the mirror, she said, “Was there something else I should have done? Pop, I tried, but just when it feels as if my feet are under me, I get tripped up. What would you do? What would you say?”
Her voice echoed in the empty restroom. She knew there would be no audible answer. She leaned over the sink, warm forehead pressed against the cool mirror, breath fogging the glass. Something did come to mind.
“When you don’t know, go back to what you do know.”
It was one of her father’s rules, another one that hadn’t made her list. She couldn’t remember why it wasn’t on her list because it hit her like he’d tossed her a lifeline.
Standing straight and taking a deep breath, she said, “I don’t know a lot; that’s for sure. But I do know there’s a killer out there who needs catching. And there are good people like Oliver and Anna who have faith in me.”
She felt control return slowly.
“And I do know I’m not a quitter. I won’t quit, Pop. I can’t. And I won’t quit on Anna or Glen.”
Tess blew her nose and rinsed her face again, working to make herself presentable and hoping Oliver wouldn’t recognize her breakdown. She straightened her uniform and remembered how her father always fussed to
make sure his uniform was squared away and spotless, shoes sporting a deep shine, when he hit the streets.
“Want respect? Earn it with spit and polish and hard work.”
Confidence snapped her straight. I’m the chief of police. I know my job.
There would be doubts and doubters until they found Anna, but she wasn’t going to let that tie her up in knots. Anna and Oliver deserved her best, and that’s what they’d get.
Inhaling deeply, Tess wadded the paper towel up and made a two-pointer into the trash basket.
“Thanks, Pop,” she said before she turned away from the mirror and left the restroom to get back to work.
Oliver was standing when she stepped into her office. He was looking at her father’s folded flag. It was the one personal decoration she had hanging on the wall.
“Did you pour yourself some coffee?” she asked as she grabbed a cup for herself.
He faced her and shook his head. “Thought I’d wait for you.” He pointed to the flag. “I’ve noticed this before but never read the plaque. That’s your father’s?”
“Yes,” she said, concentrating on pouring coffee. “He was killed in the line of duty. I had to fight my brother for it, but he eventually conceded that it would go better in my office than his.” She handed him a cup of coffee and then changed the subject. “I saw a lot of traffic at church this morning.”
“People want to help.” He took the coffee.
Tess considered this for a minute. “So those people are searchers?”
“And prayer warriors. Travis is a great organizer. I’m too distracted.”
She could see he was tired; he’d probably gotten less sleep than she had. “Have a seat, Oliver. I’ll check my e-mail and see if there’s anything there to help us.”
She and Macpherson settled in her office. Tess turned on her computer. There were a couple of e-mails waiting, and she knew immediately they were the phone records she’d been waiting for. Both for Glen and Anna. Could this finally be a lead?
Crisis Shot Page 17