They werent going to like what she had to report. Ive got nothing, she wanted to say, no reliable witnesses, no good sketch, no ideas. Nothing.
Instead, she opened the folder, drew out the pitiful list of the suspects possible physical traits and a sad description of the van, and handed it to a surly looking uniform in the front row. Please pass these out for me. She addressed the group. As you can see here, the two witnesses at the MovieMogul 10 were only partially helpful. They saw a man and a light-colored van, but couldnt be certain of either description
She continued to speak, but her attention was drawn to a stir of motion at the back of the room. When she looked up, McDermott was gone.
And a frisson of wariness told her something was up.
THE DESK OFFICERS SUMMONS had pulled Tucker out of an important meeting, but he couldnt manage to be annoyed by the interruption. Hed been glad to escape the conference room. It was too hot. Too crowded.
Hell, who was he kidding? Any room with Alissa Wyatt in it was too hot and crowded for him. She was a hot ticket, a bundle of energy with the legs of a Vegas showgirl and the light-blue eyes of an artist. Half the men on the BCCPD were panting after her, and the other half wanted her gone.
Tucker straddled the two camps. He wanted her gone, but he didnt want it to matter. And it wouldnt have mattered if it hadnt been for that night, when hed met her on a crowded dance floor and heard his favorite words, Im just in town for a few days.
He wasnt proud of it, but vacation flings were his stock in trade. He was too much of a nomad for anything more, and at thirty-five was too damn set in his ways to change now. Hell, the one time hed tried to settle down had been a disaster. Hed hurt a good woman, someone hed cared about, though he obviously hadnt cared enough. Since then, hed stayed carefully away from nesters, from women who wanted more from him than he was able to give.
So hed danced with the just-in-town-for-a-few-days babe whod introduced herself as Alissa. Hed reveled in the drape of her long, honey-colored hair as they danced close, then closer still. Hed slid his hands beneath her midriff shirt, riding on the high from closing the Vanzetti case, one too many beers and the gleam of encouragement in her eyes.
Theyd kissed on the dance floor, then again in the hall by the phones, moving fast even for him. But the roar of heat had swept away rationality and battered at the small kernel of self-preservation he held close to his soul. Theyd stumbled to her rental car wrapped in each other, not sure where they were going but positive they needed to get there quickly, before they proved that spontaneous combustion wasnt a myth.
Unable to wait for his place or her hotel, hed pulled her across his lap in the passenger seat. Shed gone willingly, twining around him with arms and tongue until a flaming, pulsing need consumed himnearly panicked him. It was too much, too soon, but the spark of caution was quickly gone. He fumbled for his wallet, for a condom, and knocked a badge off the center console.
Only it hadnt been his badge. It had been hers. And it had landed on a real estate printout of a cute house not five miles away from his generic apartment building.
Oh, hell, he remembered thinking when the explanation followed.
She was in town for a few days, all right. But shed be back soon, and working for the BCCPD. His bosses. Hed excused himself without an explanation and bolted, unnerved by an almost overwhelming desire to stay.
Two weeks later she and her friends had replaced Fitz as part of Chief Parrys updating of the BCCPD, and shed been under his skin ever since.
Because the knowledge made him mean, Tucker scowled at the male desk officer, a twenty-something named Pendelton. This better be good.
Pendelton gestured at the chest-high counter, which held a plain paper rectangle with Det. Tucker McDermott printed in square letters with black ink. I thought you should see this. It didnt come in the mail. It just sort ofappeared. One minute it wasnt there, and the next Pendelton snapped his fingers. There it was on the front desk. A hint of nerves worked into his voice when he said, Im sorry. I went to the can for a minute. Just a minute, I swear. Maybe the dispatchers saw something. But he didnt sound hopeful.
Tuckers gut tightened. Did you touch it?
No. Not on your life.
It could be a hoax, but instinct told him otherwise. You got a pair of tweezers and a couple of evidence bags?
Pendelton trotted off to get the items. For a brief second Tucker thought about calling one of the new evidence techs. Hell, they were just down the hall. He would have if it had been Fitz. But because Fitz had retiredvery abruptlyand because Tucker knew the procedure as well as anyone, he took the tweezers himself. Teased the envelope open himself. And read the enclosed note himself.
Dumb cops. Elizabeth is in the canyon, and youd better hurry. Its getting cold.
Adrenaline fired through Tuckers bloodstream. He bolted to the conference room and yanked open the door. The pretty, dark-haired psych expert of the new Forensics Departmenthe was pretty sure her name was Mayastood at the front of the room with a string of words listed on the wipe board behind her, things like white male, 20-40 years, and high functioning, followed by a question mark.
Things they didnt need an abnormal psychology specialist to tell them. They were cops, damn it. They knew the profiles, knew what they should be looking for. They just hadnt been able to find the bastard yet. Theyd needed a break.
Well, maybe theyd just gotten one.
Not caring that he was interrupting, Tucker lifted the note inside its protective evidence bag, blood racing with the thrill of the hunt. Come on. The first victim is in the canyon.
Or else the kidnapper wanted them to think she was.
BEAR CLAW CANYON was shallower and narrower than some of the nearby natural wonders, but it had its own dangers, its own treacheries. The crevice was only man height in spots, but the waterway at the bottom meandered and doubled back on itself, breaking off into tributaries and feeder streams without warning.
Because of it, there were thousands of tiny, cracked caverns and overhangs, a hundred places for hikers to lose themselves in the two-thousand-acre Bear Claw State Park.
A hundred places to hide a girl. A body.
Near the snowy spot where theyd parked their official four-wheel-drive vehicles, Alissa curled her hands into fists and fought the urge to run for the canyon, to scream the missing girls name. There were procedures to follow, and experience had taught her that protocol beat instinct every time in police work. A gut feel might lead to the perpetrator, but judges and lawyers cared about procedure. Words like intuition could get an important case thrown out, a violent criminal released.
The memory of just such a case soured the back of her throat.
Before the task force headed into the canyon, Chief Parry divided them into pairs. With the way Alissas luck had been running, she wasnt surprised when the chief paired her with McDermott.
The detective didnt argue. He merely scowled and jerked his head toward their search area, a multibranched point where the waterway widened and slowed. Come on. He dropped down into the canyon, which was nine or ten feet deep, where their search was to begin. When Alissa paused at the edge, he frowned. You want me to catch you?
She shook her head. No. Hell, no. Just give me a minute. I want to get a feel for the scene.
Though skeletal analysis and reconstruction was her specialty, her official title in the BCCFD was Crime Scene Analyst. Captain Parry was counting on her to see, and record, the details others missed.
Sometimes the smallest detail could make or break a collar. A conviction.
She stood on an open expanse of rocky ground, half a mile from the main entrance to Bear Claw State Park. They had driven in, but parked well back from the lip of the canyon, which was maybe forty feet across at this point.
She saw no other tire tracks in the week-old snow. No footprints beyond those of the searchers. He would have needed an ATV to get in here, a snowmobile or a four-wheeler, she said to herself. Unless he carried her in.
If the girl was even in the canyon. The note could just as easily be an ugly prank.
Alissa let her eyes drop lower, to the crumbling canyon edge and the bare, frozen dirt nearby, where the wind had swept the area clean and drifted snow beside the ice-strewn waterway. It was a pretty scene, a coldly brutal one that reminded her of the frigid power of a mountain winter. But it told her very little about the crime or the perpetrator.
Satisfied, she sat at the edge of the canyon and ignored McDermotts offered hand to drop lightly to the frozen ground below.
Fitz took pictures, he said, voice dark with challenge. Photographs are reliable evidence. Sketches arent. Memories arent.
You think I dont know that? She pulled her gloves out of her pockets and shoved her hands into them, though it didnt lessen the chill. She was tired of the BCCPDs attitude, annoyed by the closed-mindedness of the other cops. Fitz did it this way. Im not Fitz, but Im damn good at my job. Dont lecture me.
Im not, he fired back, eyes dark with temper, and maybe something else. Its just He blew out a breath. Hell, I dont know what it is.
Except he did. They both did. The memory of that night at the dance club shimmered between them like a living reminder of passion. Of heat.
She slanted him a look and decided to tackle it head-on. This doesnt need to be a thing, you know. We danced. No big deal.
Except that was a lie. It had almost been a very big deal for her.
Shed gone to the club that night with Maya and Cassie. The girls had been split up by their assignments after the academy, and though theyd kept in touch with calls and visits in the six years since, it hadnt been the same. Theyd often talked about working together, so when they heard rumors of Fitz OMalleys unexpected retirement, theyd put in a proposal and three transfer requests. A month later it was official. They were the new BCCFD.
They had met in Bear Claw that weekend to look at apartments, and had gone out for a celebratory drink after. One drink had turned into three over a couple of hours, along with food. Not enough to get Alissa blitzed, but enough that when the music started, she was right in the mix, bumping and grinding along with the dancers while Cassie and Maya cheered from their table.
Alissa had noticed the mans eyes first, dark and intense as hed stood at the edge of the crowd. He wore casual jeans and an open-necked shirt, covering a tight, honed body that spoke of strength and the outdoors. She saw him shake off an invitation from a shaggy-haired blonde and another from a slick brunette, but his eyes never left hers. When she crooked a finger, hed met her halfway.
As they had danced, she reminded herself she didnt do bar pickups. Hell, she hadnt done much of anything in the past year, since her supposedly serious boyfriend had taken a job out of state. Hed buggered off with barely a goodbye, making him no better than her father, whod at least pretended he was going to keep in touch.
Its not about what didor didnthappen that night, McDermott said, interrupting old, sour memories that deserved interrupting. My only concern is finding these girls and catching the bastard whos taken them. I have nothing against you except that I work alone. I dont want a partner, so stay behind me and let me do my job.
He strode off without waiting for an answer, leaving her to fume, as old and new irritations battered her heart.
Let him do his job, she muttered, still standing where theyd dropped down into the canyon. Great. Another cowboy. Maybe hell get the guy, but the guy wont stay gotten, will he? Hell walk, just like Ferguson did.
At her last posting, a serial rapist had been preying on college girls, and the Tecumseh Springs PD had formed a task force similar to the one she was in now. Theyd gotten the guya punk named Johnny Ferguson, who lived with his mother and hated the worldbut there had been a glitch in the chain of evidence, a cowboy moment when the lead cop had gone on instinct rather than procedure and blown the case to hell.
Since then, she had valued precision over gut feel, evidence over emotion. It was an odd contradictionan artist who didnt venture outside the boxbut it worked for her. And that was yet another reason she should stay far away from Tucker McDermott, who had the reputation of being all about instinct, sometimes at the expense of procedure.
Knowing it, she steeled herself to follow him down the canyon, toward the sound of other searchersvoices calling for the missing girl.
LizzyLi-zzzy. The cries overlapped in mournful echoes, making the canyon seem alive. Making it seem as though somethingor someonewas out there. Waiting. Watching.
Alissa held back a shiver, knowing that it wasnt even certain the girl was nearby. The note could be nothing more than a hoax.
Or a trap.
The feeling of watching eyes intensified, and Alissa scrambled to catch up. As though sensing the same scrutiny, McDermott glanced back over his shoulder. Hurry up, partner.
She ignored his tone and quickened her step
And she saw it.
She couldnt have said why the crevice caught her attention, but something about it seemed off. Some might call it instinct, but she preferred to think of it as a highly developed sense of color and shape. Something was wrong with this picture.
She stopped dead and stared at a shadowy, snow-shrouded cleft in the canyon wall. Her mind took a snapshot of the scene. Then she did one better. She pulled out her slick camera and took a few shots, carefully overlapping them so she could reassemble the panorama later on her computer.
You see something? McDermott asked, but his voice seemed distant as she walked toward the cleft, her every instinct on alert.
It was a tunnel of sorts, an ice-and-snow overhang undercut by the trickle of a sluggish tributary that had long since frozen over. Totally focused on the scene, on her job, she snapped several pictures, then drew a small flashlight from her pocket. She crouched down and shone the light into the forbidding darkness.
At the furthest reaches of the yellow illumination, she saw a bare, motionless foot and the ragged hem of wrinkled blue jeans.
Excitement slapped through her, mixed with apprehension that the foot wasnt moving. I see her!
Alissa heard Tucker shout something, but she couldnt wait for him. Her heart thundered in her chest. If Lizzie was alive, every second could be vital. That was the protocoladminister necessary aid first, then protect the crime scene.
Nearly shaking with anticipation, Alissa pulled off her gloves and shucked off her bulky parka so she could fit into the narrow tunnel without disturbing evidence. She jammed the small flashlight in her mouth to leave her hands free and dove in headfirst.