Tracks of Her Tears (5 page)

C
HAPTER FIVE

“I
’m going to Fletcher’s. I’ll meet you back at the house in an hour,” Seth said to his wife over the phone as he crossed the parking lot of the sheriff’s office. “Zane is hoping to have a search off the ground this afternoon, and I’ll need my winter gear.”

He also knew his wife would want to be in on the search, and he didn’t trust anyone else at her side.

The Solitude PD had been calling Bruce’s friends, checking the places he normally frequented, and spreading the word about his disappearance. The Rogue County Sheriff’s Department had put out a BOLO on Bruce’s car. The search of the park hadn’t turned up any more clues. On the bright side, they hadn’t found any more bodies either. As long as he didn’t see a body, Seth would believe that Bruce was alive.

“We have to find him,” Carly said.

The break in his wife’s voice hollowed Seth’s chest. She’d lost her father, and he couldn’t bear to think of the pain she’d feel if something happened to her younger brother. The entire Taylor family was just settling into a new normal.

“The temperature is going to drop tonight,” she said. “What if he’s outside?”

Light snow was already falling, and more was expected through the evening.

“It’ll be okay.” But Seth’s voice lacked confidence. Amber Lynn had been the last person to see Bruce, and she was dead. His prime lead, Travis, had provided little useful information. He was hiding something, but Seth couldn’t prove it. To make matters worse, the weather was going to hell.

Phil jogged across the asphalt. “Where are we going now? Fletcher’s?”

“Yes. What did you learn from Amber Lynn’s employer?” Seth walked toward his vehicle.

While Seth had been talking to Carly, Phil had called Amber Lynn’s employer. She’d worked as a receptionist for an accountant.

Phil fell into step beside him. “She was a good employee. Didn’t miss much work. Her boss seemed genuinely sad to hear about her death. She gave me Amber Lynn’s emergency contact information. Ethel Kaminsky is the only name listed.”

“No red flags?”

“None,” Phil said. “Amber Lynn left work as usual at four thirty yesterday. Her boss didn’t notice anything unusual about her behavior, but she admitted she was busy trying to finish some year-end business and wasn’t paying close attention.”

“Keep your eyes open for a cargo van.” Seth paused. “Bruce could’ve been in an accident.”

“Then how was Amber Lynn killed?” Phil asked. “And how did she get to the park? Were they both kidnapped after they left the bar or was Amber taken after Bruce dropped her at home?”

“Unfortunately, we can’t rule anything out yet.” Seth opened his car door.

Phil turned toward his patrol vehicle, parked a few spots down the row. “Any luck pinging Bruce’s cell phone?”

“No, but Bruce is famous for forgetting his phone or letting the battery die.” Seth hoped one of those was the reason he couldn’t be reached.

Phil followed Seth to Fletcher’s. A truck stop occupied a chunk of dirt on the interstate just inside the Solitude city limits. A service station divided the cluster of buildings. A few cars and two eighteen-wheelers were lined up for fuel. A mini-mart sat behind the long row of pumps. Through the plate glass window, Seth could see a couple of customers at the register. A half-dozen additional trucks were lined up in the long parking slots behind the mini-mart. A diner and a motel sat on one side of the station, while Fletcher’s occupied the weedy patch of asphalt on the other.

“I haven’t arrested anyone here all week,” Phil joked. At night the bar and parking lot would both be crowded. Drug dealers and a couple of hookers would be displaying their wares. Interstate truck stop traffic made selling drugs and sex easy. Fletcher’s was known for attracting an unsavory crowd.

“Must be the holidays.” Seth had made his share of busts at Fletcher’s. The owner, Bob Fletcher, had slithered out from under charges ranging from serving underage minors to drug dealing to sex trafficking. Bob didn’t think twice about throwing a bartender or bouncer under the legal bus. “While I question Bob, see how many surveillance cameras you can spot inside the bar.”

Seth and Phil went inside. Daylight emphasized the run-down and overall sleazy nature of the establishment. Dirt scraped underfoot, and dust motes hung suspended in beams of sunlight slanting through the blinds. Three men nursed beers and watched a hockey game at the bar. Bob Fletcher looked up from duct-taping a rip in a vinyl booth. In his midfifties, he looked like an aging biker. A tattoo of a tarantula decorated one side of his bald head, and beefy biceps bulged under a tight, long-sleeved T-shirt with the Rolling Stones logo on the front.

“Good afternoon, Detective Harding.” Bob set the roll of gray tape on the table. “I haven’t seen you in long time. I heard you were serving on some special task force. Does this mean you’re back?”

“It does,” Seth said. “Do you know why I’m here?”

Bob didn’t offer a hand. He eyed Phil’s uniform. “I guess you’re here about the girl.”

Seth should have known news of Amber Lynn’s murder would have gotten out. Word traveled faster than the speed of light in Solitude.

“I’d like to ask you a few questions about last night,” Seth began.

“Sure. As long as I can work while we talk. I’m shorthanded.” Bob moved behind the bar. “I really can’t tell you much.”

“Mind if I use the restroom?” Phil asked.

Shaking his head, Bob gestured toward the back of the bar, where a hallway was marked with restroom signs. Phil headed toward the men’s room.

“The band played here last night?” Seth asked.

Bob nodded. “Yeah. They started at eight and finished up around eleven thirty. They were gone by midnight.”

“Who’s your contact in the band?”

“Bruce Taylor. He’s related to you, right?” Bob sprayed wood polish on the bar and rubbed. The scuffed bar didn’t look any cleaner as he moved from section to section. Years of nastiness pitted the wood.

Seth didn’t respond to the question. “Do they play here often?”

“Once or twice a month.” Bob shrugged.

“Do they always bring a girl?”

Bob finished the bar surface, replaced the spray can under the bar, and produced a bottle of glass cleaner. “No, usually Bruce sings.”

“Have you heard from him today?” Seth asked.

Bob sprayed the mirror behind the bar. “No. I paid him last night. No reason for him to come around today. I won’t see him again for a couple of weeks.”

“How well do you know the rest of the band members?”

“There’s a bass player and a drummer. The drummer calls himself Psych.” Bob rolled his eyes. “The bass player has a my-daddy’s-a-lawyer name, starts with an
S
. Spencer. I don’t remember the girl’s name.”

“Did the band all leave together?” Seth asked.

“I’m not sure. The bar wasn’t that busy. I was in my office.” Bob shrugged. “But the girl came with Bruce, so I assume they left together.”

“Did you notice anyone hanging around the girl?”

Bob shrugged. “She was a pretty thing. Of course she attracted attention.”

“I’d like to have the surveillance videos from last night.”

“Okay. Give me an hour or so.” No doubt Bob wanted to skim through the videos to make sure nothing illegal had been recorded. Hell, he might have already done that. As soon as he heard about the body, he would have known the police would come for the tapes.

Seth leaned on the bar. “Can you do it right now?”

Bob moved three feet down the bar and went to work on a glass shelf. “You in a rush?”

“Yes.” Seth cut to the chase. He didn’t have time for Bob’s bullshit. “Bruce is missing.”

“What?” Bob looked up from working his rag on a sticky spot.

“No one has seen Bruce since last night,” Seth said.

Bob’s arm froze midswipe. “Seriously?”

Seth wasn’t fooled by the innocent look on Bob’s face. He could lie straight-faced to Mother Teresa.

“Yes.” Seth stood. “Could we have the videos?”

Bob didn’t want to hand them over. Seth could see the reluctance in his face.

“I’d hate to have to put this place under 24-7 surveillance . . .” Seth said with a feral smile.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll get them for you right now.” Bob turned toward the back room.

“I’ll also need a list of employees that were working last night,” Seth called after him.

Phil came back. They waited ten minutes. When Bob returned, he handed Seth a USB drive and a list of names and phone numbers.

“Thanks for your cooperation.” Seth slid the flash drive and paper into his pocket.

“Glad to help, as always.” But Bob didn’t look happy.

Seth and Phil left the bar. “Let’s split up to save time. You take the mini-mart and the gas station. I’ll take the motel and the diner.” With a sad twinge, he pulled up a picture of Bruce and Amber Lynn from a family dinner a few weeks before and texted it to Phil. “See if anyone saw them, and get copies of the parking lot surveillance videos.”

Twenty minutes later Seth met Phil at the car.

Seth unlocked his vehicle. “Anything?”

“No, but I got the videos,” Phil said. “Are you heading over to the search?”

“Yes.” As much as Seth wanted to work nonstop on Amber Lynn’s murder, he needed to be there for Carly. Besides, he had no evidence that anything violent had happened to Bruce. It was possible that he’d dropped Amber Lynn off at her apartment and driven home. The roads had been slick. Bruce could have run his van off the road on his way back to the Taylor farm.

“I’ll head back to the station and start reviewing surveillance tapes,” Phil offered. “I’ll let you know if I see anything.”

“Sounds good.” Seth got into his car and drove off.

Three p.m.

Bruce had been missing for fifteen hours.

C
HAPTER SIX

C
arly parked in front of the main house. Her sister-in-law’s minivan sat in the driveway. Debra had gone to high school with Carly and Stevie. When they were teenagers, neither Carly nor her sister could imagine why Debra wanted to date their bossy older brother, whose bedroom smelled like dirty socks. But many years and two small boys later, James and Debra were still together.

The sound of musical instruments being misused bled through the closed front door. Carly went inside.

“Hello?” she called out.

“In here,” Debra yelled from the den, which the family loosely called the music room. Her three-year-old son banged on the drum set in the corner, while her five-year-old sat at the piano playing random notes with a mischievous grin. Squealing, baby Charlotte bounced on her chubby legs. At the front of the room, Brianna stood with her hands propped on her hips, an irritated scowl on her face. Spying Carly, she ran to her mother.

“Mama, the boys won’t do what I say,” she complained. “I want to be a band, like Uncle Bruce’s, and they’re ruining it.”

Carly hugged her frustrated daughter. “They don’t have to listen to you, sweetheart. Let Aunt Debra be their mommy.”

The boys were clearly making a racket just to annoy their bossy older cousin. Both had the innate musical ability gifted to the Taylor family and could at minimum keep proper rhythm. Carly knew for a fact that they could also pluck out simple tunes on the piano. But Brianna spent long hours with Bruce and was absorbing his ability to play any instrument she picked up. She expected her little cousins to have her attention span, when they’d much rather devil her.

The thought of Bruce patiently helping Brianna position her fingers on his guitar strings gave Carly an empty feeling behind her sternum. He just had to be all right.

She brushed a hair off her daughter’s forehead. “If you ignore them, they’ll stop.”

Brianna looked up at her, skeptical.

“I know this because Aunt Stevie and Uncle Bruce and I used to do the same thing to Uncle James,” Carly said. Bruce had been particularly skilled at annoying their oldest sibling. The void inside her grew. “We used to bet on who could make his face get red the fastest.”

“That was mean.” Brianna crossed her arms over her skinny chest.

Carly didn’t argue, but she left her young daughter with something to reflect on. “Uncle James was bossy, and we didn’t like it.”

“You were still mean.” Brianna clearly didn’t see the parallel with her own behavior.

Sometimes kids need to learn their lessons the hard way.

Debra ended the musical cacophony with the magic words “How about a snack?”

Her boys abandoned their instruments and bolted for the kitchen. Carly picked up Charlotte and nestled her on her hip. Debra doled out Christmas cookies and juice boxes. Charlotte bounced, reaching for the other children.

“I think she wants her share.” Carly put her down. The baby toddled toward the child-size table and elbowed her way into the fray like a champ.

“How is she doing?” Carly asked.

“Okay. As long as she’s busy, she’s fine. When it gets quiet, she gets sad. Missing her mama, no doubt.” Debra wiped a tear from under her eye.

“Poor thing.” Carly touched Debra’s arm. “Thanks so much for helping with her.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad to do it. The kids keep me occupied. With the boys, I can’t be much help looking for Bruce.” Debra poured coffee into two mugs. “How does Seth feel about her being here?”

“He’s supportive, but he thinks we have enough on our plate. Even though he won’t say it, I know he’s afraid I’ll get attached.” Carly reached for a cookie. “Deep down I know he’s right, but Mom wanted me to bring her here. You know how she is. She needs to be helpful. I didn’t have the heart to say no.” But if Carly was honest with herself, she’d wanted to bring that baby home just as much as her mother did.

The Taylor farm had taken in strays since before Carly could remember. The barn out back was full of neglected and abandoned creatures her mother had nursed back to health, and more than a few kids who needed help had shown up on their front porch over the years. The farm was a place to heal.

Carly let out a long breath. “And holding her made me realize how much I want another baby.” Being back with Seth had reawakened her biological clock. “But it’s totally unfair to Seth.”

Seth had done everything she’d asked. They’d gone to counseling sessions, and he was making a Herculean effort to understand why her work was so important to her. Meanwhile Carly had committed to making their marriage a priority over her job. Their marriage problems hadn’t been all Seth’s doing. She had to take her share of the responsibility for their separation—and for their reconciliation.

“James and I have been having that same discussion lately,” Debra said. “There’s nothing like the smell of baby shampoo to make you want another one.”

“So true,” Carly agreed. “Where’s my mom?”

“Getting ready to go out and look for Bruce.” Debra pointed at Carly with a headless butter cookie snowman. “Don’t try to talk her out of it. She’s determined. If one of my boys were missing, you couldn’t keep me from searching.”

“You’re right.” Carly drank coffee and brushed crumbs from her hands. “I’d better go change into my foul-weather gear. You’re going to stay with the kids?”

“I’ve got it covered. I’m going to take all four kids back to my place for the afternoon. We have more toys and equipment, and my house is totally babyproofed.” Debra waded back into the pint-size crowd to clean hands and faces. “I know Brianna will be a big help with the baby.”

Brianna beamed at her aunt.

“Thanks,” Carly said.

With Debra in charge, Carly traipsed back to the cabin to change into warmer clothes. She tossed her long underwear onto the bed and stripped down. Of course Seth came into their bedroom while she was changing. In two seconds he had his clothes off and his hard body pressed up against hers.

“How do you always know when I’m naked?” She leaned into his warmth.

“It’s my superpower.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I know there’s no time, but just give me one minute.”

She turned and pressed her face into his broad chest. If she’d learned anything over the past year, it was that they needed to take time to reconnect, even if they had only a minute. They were stronger together than apart.

Seth rubbed her back. “We’re going to find him.”

She splayed her hands on his muscular chest. He was an alpha male to his very soul. It drove him crazy if he couldn’t fix everything for her.

With a sigh he released her, opened the dresser drawer, and stepped into a pair of cargo pants. “Everyone is gathering at the Solitude Police Station in thirty minutes.”

“My mother is coming,” Carly said.

“I didn’t doubt it for a minute.” Seth grabbed a wool sweater. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep her safe with us.”

God, she loved him.

“How is the baby doing?” he asked.

“Debra says she’s happy enough when she’s occupied.” Carly stifled a tear. The baby won’t even remember her mother.

“That’s the best anyone can do for now. Any luck in locating family members who might take her in?”

“I’m waiting for Travis to call me back.”

“Good luck with that.” Seth snorted. “Travis is only interested in himself, and I sincerely doubt he should have custody of a lab rat, let alone a child.”

Carly dug out her wool socks from her drawer. They would begin searching on the roads, but who knew where it would lead them? It was best to be prepared to trek on foot if necessary. “Amber Lynn’s mother said no, and she didn’t have any sisters or brothers.”

“When I talked to Travis’s brother, it sounded as if his parents were local,” Seth said.

“Good to know. I called them after I left the Coopers’ trailer, but they haven’t called back yet.” Carly smiled. “Thank you for helping me.”

Seth stopped in the middle of fastening his holster to his belt. “I know I’ve given you a hard time about your job, and I’m sorry. When I realized the victim was Amber Lynn and remembered Charlotte, I saw the case from your perspective for the first time. I couldn’t stand the thought of her being sent to strangers. What will you do if you can’t find any family to take her?”

Carly turned to face him. “I don’t know.”

Seth walked over and lifted her chin with his finger. “I love kids. You know that.”

“I do.”

“And I know you want more kids, but I’m not ready. I want to make sure our marriage is solid before we take on any more responsibility. We let stress get between us once before. I don’t want to let that happen again. I love you, Carly. That time we were apart was the worst of my life. And I’m looking forward to taking some time for just the two of us this spring. We haven’t gone camping since we had Brianna. Remember privacy?” He cupped her jaw and kissed her.

Carly’s bare toes curled. How could she forget? Her fingers gripped his strong forearm. “You’re right. We agreed to step back from our jobs. But this is harder than usual. I know this little girl.”

“I know.” Seth kissed her forehead. “
I’m
the one who called
you
into this case. So I promise to keep an open mind. If she doesn’t have any family members willing and able to raise her, we’ll talk about the decision when the time comes.”

“All right.” But she knew that, while Seth wouldn’t say no, he really didn’t want to take in another child right now, and he was right. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. I just started looking for Amber Lynn’s family.”

“I just want everything out in the open,” Seth said. The marriage counselor had told them that communication was the key to stabilizing their marriage. Since then Seth had applied his type A, task-oriented personality to learning how. His determination floored her.

“I love you,” she said. “I don’t know how I’d be getting through today without you.”

“Whatever happens, I’m here for you first, Carly.” He fastened his belt. “Now let’s go find your brother.”

They finished dressing and went out into the main room for waterproof boots and outerwear. Carly tucked her long hair into a knit hat and shoved gloves into her pockets. “I’m ready.”

Seth shrugged into his coat. “We’ll take your Jeep.”

They crossed the meadow and parked at the main house. Patsy was in the kitchen packing a bag of food. Carly helped her mom bag a stack of peanut butter sandwiches and pour hot chocolate into a thermos. Seth carried a container of water and extra blankets to the Jeep.

Thanks to Big Bill, all their vehicles were well stocked with emergency supplies and first aid kits. People who lived in rural areas needed to be prepared for emergencies. Many of the areas around Solitude lacked cell phone service, and it could take some time for help to arrive. Seth loaded the Jeep with the remaining supplies, and they set out for the police station.

The small parking area was full. Seth parked next to a huge black Hummer with a dented front fender. “Who does that belong to?”

“No one in Solitude,” Patsy said as she climbed out of the Jeep.

The tiny police station was empty except for the secretary, Sheila, who waved a bone-thin arm toward the township offices next door. “They’re next door, hon.”

The tiled space hummed with low conversations. A small group of volunteers waited for instructions. Carly spotted two firemen and a few hunters. Police chief Zane Duncan stood at the front of the main lobby. He’d pinned a map of the area to a corkboard. Sections of the township were marked off with red lines. As always, it saddened Carly for a minute to see someone other than her dad in charge. But since taking over the police department last spring, Zane had done an admirable job of filling her father’s giant shoes.

Seth rounded the room and conferred with Zane.

In her Solitude PD winter uniform, Carly’s sister, Stevie, hurried over and hugged her. Stevie’s face was tight with worry. “How’s Mom holding up?”

Carly cast a quick look back at her mother, who was unbuttoning her coat and sweeping her hat off her curly brown-and-gray hair. “You know Mom. She’s amazing. I don’t know how she’s functioning. If Brianna . . .” Carly couldn’t even think of something happening to Brianna without being paralyzed with terror.

Stevie rubbed her arm. “Take a breath.”

“How are you?” Carly asked her sister.

“Anxious to get the search under way,” Stevie said.

Carly scanned the room. “Not many volunteers.”

“The weather has been causing accidents all day.” Stevie’s mouth tightened. Southwestern Oregon was poorly equipped to deal with snow-covered roads. “Let me get back to helping Zane. The sooner we get out of here the better.”

They both knew that every minute that passed lessened their chances of finding Bruce. Carly watched Stevie join Zane. Though they kept their relationship professional when at work, Carly was happy to see the silent bond between them. They worked as a team. After all she’d been through—as a cop in Los Angeles and after their father’s death—Stevie deserved a good man.

James came out of his office with two men in tow. Carly recognized Solitude’s pharmacist and sole real estate agent, Donald Montgomery. Not enough properties changed hands in the town to warrant more than one part-time real estate agent. The second man was a stranger. He was about forty, and everything from his gelled blond hair to his new, expensive outerwear screamed city boy. And that would explain the Hummer outside.

“Hi, Donald,” she said.

“How is Brianna? Over that strep throat, I hope?” he asked.

“Completely, thanks,” Carly said. Though he was from her parents’ generation, she’d known Donald all her life. The Montgomerys were an old Solitude family. His father had been the pharmacist before Donald.

James rubbed Carly’s shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

“Okay.” Carly gave him a one-armed hug.

“Andrew, this is my sister, Carly.” James gestured to the blond man. “This is Andrew Reynolds. He represents Reynolds Real Estate Investment Corporation. They’re considering buying the O’Rourke resort property.”

“Nice to meet you.” Carly shook his hand. A fire at the nearly completed O’Rourke resort back in September had put many people in Solitude out of work.