“Hope’s cell phone and her tablet were in her room. She didn’t use any of them to send that message. I checked.” A lump formed in her throat, and panic surged once more inside her chest. “She’s my only child, Richmond. I need her back.”
He squeezed her hand. “No falling apart now, Colonel. Your daughter is counting on you. Did they mount a search of the mountains?”
“Wayne River, the chief of maintenance and operations, is organizing a search as we speak, but he didn’t show much optimism. People skied all day yesterday. No one reported anything amiss.”
If Hope had left any clues in the trail, they would be long gone by now.
“We’ll start where Hope was last seen and work from there.” His voice exuded confidence—confidence she immensely needed. “How does that sound?”
Amelia liked the pronoun
we
. Despite pulling his hand away to reach for his coat, Richmond wasn’t shutting her down.
***
A young brunette with bright pink glasses manned the post office. To Eve’s bemusement, she ogled Gil from head to toes then worked her way up again.
“Inspection is over, Missy.” Her partner was a nice guy, but he wasn’t a stud muffin by any stretch of the imagination—not like her Nathan. “We’re here for a postal box, not an appraisal.”
“I’ve never seen a man in uniform up close.” The employee fluttered dark, long eyelashes at Gil, totally ignoring Eve. “What’s the name again?”
“Box 8888. Sly Serpent.” Had Eve known showing up with a male in uniform was as good as presenting a warrant, she wouldn’t have wasted time asking for one. “Do I need to spell it, Missy?”
“No, ma’am. Give me a sec.”
Behind the girl, parcels were stacked against the wall. The one at the bottom was being compressed under the weight of the others.
Whoever receives it won’t be happy.
The employee pulled a 4x6 card from a plastic box. “Sly Serpent. He rented the box on November 21
st
. A three-month lease. Paid cash.”
Serpent had rented the box three weeks ago. Then on December 5
th
, he’d organized the calendar shoot.
The bad vibrations from the case rocked Eve’s baby.
That’s premeditation.
“Do you have an address?”
“It’s in Missoula.”
“Write it down.”
It would have been too simple had it been in Anaconda.
“Does it list the pieces of identification he used to rent the box?”
The girl’s eyes, which had darted back and forth as she copied the address on a post-note, paused on the card. Her young face lit up. “My initials are at the bottom. He showed me a Montana driver’s license.”
Impossible.
The suspect’s name didn’t show up on the Montana DMV, or the neighboring states. Eve had extended the search outward, but it hadn’t yielded any results by the time she left with Gil. “I’ll also need the number of that driver license.”
“No one told me I was supposed to record the number.” The brunette stared haplessly at Gil despite the fact he hadn’t uttered a word since they entered the postal outlet. “Here’s his address in Missoula. The phone number is mine...in case you’re interested.”
When the awestruck employee presented the post-it note to Gil, Eve snatched it. “Any chance you could describe Mr. Serpent?”
“He was tall...and white...I think.” She returned the box of cards behind the counter. “I don’t remember him much.”
Eyewitnesses are not what they used to be.
“Thanks for your help, Missy.”
Once they exited the building, Gil burst out laughing. “I’m glad you’re not my big sister, or I wouldn’t be dating.”
“Trust me, she wasn’t your type.” Eve affectionately patted him on the shoulder. “If you’re desperate, I can introduce you to my sister. She’s a real nutcase.”
To her dismay, he stole the keys from her hand. “My turn. And while we’re on the dating subject, did I imagine the awkward moment between Morgan and the colonel? You think there might be a history between them?”
The encounter in the office hadn’t been as awkward as it’d been intense.
Pausing by the passenger door, Eve looked at her partner over the roof. “Maybe they collaborated on a case back when he worked for the FBI.”
“Come on, Eve. Have a bit more imagination. From what we heard, Morgan gave up an outstanding career in the FBI to play sheriff in a quiet little town. Less than a year later, the Army sends the big gun. It can’t be a coincidence.”
Many rumors had accompanied Morgan’s appointment to Sheriff, but few were proven accurate.
“We also heard he was arrogant, heartless, and unforgiving. We both know it couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m sure there’s a simple explanation. If we’d stayed instead of rushing out, he may have introduced her to us.” She opened her door. “Come on, let’s go for lunch before we visit Missoula. Baby is starving.”
Chapter Five
Yellow tape crisscrossed over the door, symbolically sealing Hope Craig’s room at Snowy Tip. The words ‘By authority of Colonel A. Matheson’ were written in black marker where the two yellow stripes met.
Impressed that no one had ventured in, Rich ripped the tape and opened the door.
Amelia followed him inside. “You do realize I searched every inch of her room with a fine-toothed comb and replaced everything as I found it?”
He wasn’t immune to the pain clouding her blue eyes. Her daughter’s disappearance had taken its emotional toll. Under the circumstances, Rich couldn’t rely on her judgment. Had it been any other woman, he would have insisted she stand on the sidelines in order not to compromise his investigation.
“I’m hoping you missed something, Amelia.”
A towel hung from the window shade. Wrappers littered the area around the wastebasket. Gym clothes were scattered over the floor. A pair of boots sat precariously over the heating vent.
That’s a typical college dorm.
Nothing in the untidy room suggested Hope Craig had been victim of foul play. “I see housekeeping isn’t part of her training.”
“No. Hope had her mind set on going to West Point. That they didn’t accept deaf cadets went right over her head.” The memories warmed Amelia’s voice. “She didn’t give up that dream until I told her she’d have to make her bed with a ruler every morning.”
Chuckles tickled Rich’s throat. Deaf or not, if the teenager was anything like her mother, she would have made a great cadet.
He looked around. A hearing aid, a wallet, a blackberry, and a tablet were on the dresser. With his gloves on, he checked the calls and messages on both electronic devices.
On the day she disappeared, Hope didn’t send anything to Goldman or anyone else.
“I requested a copy of her activities from the provider in case someone erased something.” Amelia glanced over his shoulder. For a torturous moment, her breath teased his neck—like she used to do an eternity ago.
“I
haven’t received it yet.”
“Good thinking.” Pushing aside the nostalgia that threatened to engulf him again for the second time in less than a week, he handed her the phone and the tablet. “Hang on to them. I want Eve’s husband, our technician, to have another look.”
He rummaged through the content of the wallet.
Sixty dollars. ATM card. VISA card. Driver license. Firearm permit.
“During her morning practice, did your daughter carry her rifle?”
“Yes, but it wasn’t loaded. Goldman didn’t realize the weapon was missing until he checked the equipment room this morning.”
“I see.” For a man responsible for the well-being and safety of underage athletes, the coach showed negligence in his duty.
Amelia opened the closet. “Hope’s winter coat is in here, her boots are on the heater, but her yellow training suit isn’t on a hanger. Had she returned from her practice, she would have changed into her blue suit for target practice and hung her yellow suit to dry. And h
ad she gotten hurt, she would have waited on the trail for someone to help her. She knows better than to venture off the path.
”
Neither of them had alluded to the possibility that Hope might have run away, but it had entered Rich’s mind. The teenager wouldn’t have been the first athlete to suffer a breakdown under the constant pressure of extreme training.
Before running away, one would think she would have changed into civilian clothes—something less conspicuous than a yellow suit—and taken her wallet and phone.
It didn’t look like Hope had ever returned to her room after her morning practice. The disappearance of her rifle was another detail that didn’t add up.
Maybe not everyone was happy to see a deaf girl steal the place of a hearing girl on the biathlon team when she could have qualified for the Paralympics. Athletes were passionate individuals, some prone to excessive behavior. Years ago, a figure skater had hired a man to break a competitor’s legs. Rich couldn’t rule out the possibility that someone from Hope’s entourage had wanted to get rid of her any more than he could rule out a stranger kidnapping her for more obscure reasons.
“It’s possible someone followed her on the trail and lured her off. To your knowledge, did she have any problems with jealous competitors, obsessive teammates, or possessive boyfriends?”
“No boyfriend...that I know of.” Amelia
stood by the window, hugging the tablet. The glass reflected
a blurry image of her weary face. “If Hope had any problems with her teammates or competitors, she never complained to me.”
Here goes another question to add to my list for Coach Goldman.
“What about you, Amelia?” In West Point, she’d studied to become a language specialist. She wouldn’t have reached the rank of colonel by performing routine translations. “Is it possible someone took Hope to get back at you professionally or personally?”
“Army Intelligence is looking into possible connections in Eastern Europe, the Middle East, and Asia. So far nothing indicates that Hope’s disappearance is related to any covert missions I may—or may not—have accomplished overseas.” Turning around, she faced him with a guarded expression. “This aspect of the investigation is under my jurisdiction, Richmond. If need be, I will apprise you.”
To his dismay, it seemed cooperation extended only one way. Considering he’d dealt with the Army back in his days as a special agent, it shouldn’t have surprised him. “What about your father? Is he still in active duty?”
“Retired General. He hasn’t seen any action in ten years. I doubt there’s a connection.” Amelia had retreated behind a wall of professional detachment. “If I’m wrong, Army Intel will find it.”
It pained Rich that she might have learned the evasive tactic from him. So much had remained unsaid between them, and he could only blame himself.
Continuing the search in silence, he pulled on the white sheet and tan blanket. He was pleased to notice no discoloration or foreign substance. Turquoise pajamas, rolled into a ball, were stuck between the wall and the mattress. As he disentangled the clothes, a stuffed animal fell onto the bed.
A gasp breezed through Amelia’s lips. “She wasn’t supposed to bring any personal items. It’s irrelevant to her disappearance.”
A downy duckling with the letter T embroidered on its belly stared back at him with glossy green eyes, kindling a yearning Rich had spent years to hammer down. Its discovery had rattled Amelia. He’d been right to think she was too emotionally involved, predisposing her to errors and oversights, but he couldn’t relegate her to the sideline, not at the risk of severing what little trust still existed between them.
“Let’s go meet her coach. I have a few questions for him.”
***
The round clock pinned on the back wall of the maintenance bay indicated one p.m. To Amelia’s distress, the small needle spun around the fat numbers faster than it took Richmond to uncover new leads.
Briefing Richmond had been a waste of time. He still insisted on checking every detail on his own. As an Army officer, she understood. She wouldn’t have taken anything coming out of a distraught parent’s mouth at face value either. As a mother, this was the hardest task she’d ever encountered. Without her military training, she wouldn’t be able to rein in her frustration or keep her emotions under wrap. As it was, they bubbled on the surface of her skin, ready to explode at the slightest touch.
Hope...
Her daughter had been her greatest joy and her saddest tragedy.
In the corner of the bay, Richmond spoke with Hope’s coach. While Amelia didn’t possess her daughter’s ability to read lips, she didn’t need it to know Richmond didn’t like Goldman’s answers. His body was more rigid than a new recruit standing at attention. As Amelia approached them, Goldman’s voice rose into the rounded bay.
“You can’t take my phone. I have everything on it. My schedule, my practices, my—”
“An underage girl is missing,
Coach
, and she disappeared under
your
watch.” Having silenced Goldman’s objections, Richmond pocketed the phone. “I’m only interested in the sender of Hope Craig’s message. I couldn’t care less about the other stuff on your phone. Should my deputies find anything incriminating, I can guarantee you’ll be the first one to know.”
“I have nothing to hide, Sheriff. Go talk to Chief River. He’s organizing the search.” Goldman pointed toward a large table where some people had gathered. “His son Todd was the last one to see Quest that morning. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have athletes to train.” Without waiting for a dismissal, the coach sneaked out the back door.
Richmond exchanged a dubious look with her. “I don’t like the guy.”
“He’s supposed to be a renowned coach. When I talked to him earlier, he didn’t mention River’s son. I’m not sure where the son would have seen Hope last. You don’t think Goldman is involved, do you?” Her opinion of the coach biased by his lax supervision, she welcomed Richmond’s perspective.
“Goldman seems to think highly of your daughter. According to him, she got along with everyone. He didn’t notice anything amiss prior to her disappearance, though he said he was surprised she’d signed her message Hope instead of Quest.”