Vanished (7 page)

Her frown deepening, Jill stood a step back from her husband. “I doubt it, Ross.”

“I'm glad you came here and reported Buddy's death. You never know what's important and what isn't. This might have something to do with Ashley's disappearance.”

When J.T. spoke, Ross refocused on him. “Good. I wanted to help search earlier, but Susan said there were enough searchers, so we went on to work. If there is anything I can do, please let me know.”

“Derek, I'd like you to follow Ross home, bag the steak and have a look around the yard. We'll have the lab see what kind of poison was used.”

After the deputy and J.T.'s neighbor left, Madison turned to J.T. “You think the dog's poisoning has something to do with Ashley?”

He shrugged. “I'm not ignoring anything unusual happening. It probably doesn't, but we don't have too many pets poisoned in Crystal Springs.” J.T. removed his keys from his pocket. “If I'm not back before Derek, have him log the steak in and send it to the lab.”

J.T. strode to the door. Madison sagged against the counter. He might not be ready to admit he was tired, but she was. Her eyes burned and her body felt as though she was carrying around an extra twenty pounds. She buried her face in her hands and ground her palms into her eyes.

Father, I need strength and energy to keep going.

She shoved away from the counter and made a detour to the coffeepot. She filled a large mug with the steaming black brew, then crossed the room to Rachel to complete the list of criminals who could possibly hold a grudge against J.T.

Too many from what Rachel had compiled so far. It would take days—days they didn't have—to track down all these people.

Day two, 7:30 p.m.: Ashley missing twenty-five hours

“Daddy!” Kim threw herself into J.T.'s arms the second she saw him in the Fitzpatricks' living room.

He hugged her to him and kissed the top of her head. “I really appreciated the coleslaw.”

She leaned back. “I made it because I know how much you like it.”

“Well, I ate every last bite of it. Thank you, honey.”

The smile that entered his daughter's eyes for a few seconds made this trip worth every minute away from Ashley's investigation. Somehow he had to find his youngest and yet give his other two children the support and comfort they needed.

Lord, please give me the fortitude my family needs.

“Are we going home?”

“Honey, I'll be staying at the station again tonight. I need you to stay with Emma and Colin for one more night.”

“But, Daddy, I want to go home.”

“I know, baby. But I don't want you there without me and there's too much I need to do right now.”

“I want to help. Let me come to the station.”

J.T. remembered what Madison had said earlier. “How about tomorrow? I could use you to answer the phones and help Susan out. Will you?”

Her expression brightened. “Yes. Anything. I—I…”

“What?”

Shaking her head, she stepped out of his embrace. “Nothing. It's not important.”

“If it's important to you, it's important to me.”

Her mouth firmed into a frown. “I said it was nothing.”

J.T. started to reassure Kim she hadn't done anything wrong concerning Ashley, but Colin and Neil's appearance in the room stilled his words. He would talk with his daughter in private about what he felt was behind her sudden impudent words and frown.

“You don't look too good, Dad.”

“I can always count on you, Neil, to tell it like it is.” J.T. peered at his son and saw the same shadows under his eyes and the deep tired lines on his youthful face. They were so much alike it was scary at times. He could recall all the hard knocks he'd experienced in his life and didn't want that for Neil. “You two have got to take care of yourselves. I need you to eat and get some rest.”

“Right back at you.” Neil folded his arms across his chest and stared at him.

“I will.”

“When? I heard you tell Kim you were staying at the station again tonight.”

First Madison and now Neil. Didn't they understand the clock was ticking down on this kidnapping? He knew it was because they cared, but he wasn't the important one at the moment. “I have some things I need to organize.”

“Can't someone else do it?” Neil moved toward him.

“No! I'm in charge.” If he said it enough, maybe then he would believe it because right now he needed to believe he had some control over the situation, that his presence and knowledge in the middle of the case was making a difference.

“I thought that was what the FBI was doing here.”

“Yeah, Daddy, we—” Kim caught a look from her brother and clamped her mouth closed.

“The FBI are here at my request, but I'm still the sheriff and in charge.” He put a hand on his son's shoulder. “Look, I promise both of you I'll try and sleep on the couch in my office.” He didn't tell them he doubted he would get any rest even as tired as he was. He drew his son to him and held both his children, relishing their presence in his arms. If anything happened to them, too, he didn't know what he would do. He couldn't lose them. In his gut he knew the motive for the kidnapping was revenge. He had to find the person targeting his family before something else happened.

“Let's pray for Ashley.” J.T. took each of his chil
drens' hands and bowed his head. “Dear Heavenly Father, we need your strength. Please bring Ashley home safe and sound. Watch over her and protect her from harm. In Jesus Christ's name. Amen.”

“I love you.” Kim squeezed him around the waist.

“Honey, I love you and Neil. I'll bring Ashley home.” When he pulled back, he looked each of them in the eye. “We'll sleep in our own beds tomorrow night, but right now I'd better get back to the station. I have a lot to do tonight.”

“Can I help?” Colin crossed the living room.

J.T. caught his gaze. “You're doing it. You're taking care of the most precious things to me.”

Emma shouted from the kitchen, “Dinner's ready.”

Colin glanced toward the door into the dining room. “Did you have enough food earlier?”

“Yes. Tell your wife and Grace thanks for thinking of me.” J.T. kissed Kim on the cheek, patted Neil's arm, then headed toward the entry hall. “I'll call tomorrow morning, Kim, to let you know when you can come down to the station.”

“I'm coming, too.” Neil stood by his sister.

J.T. gave them a nod then disappeared into the foyer where he paused and drew in a composing breath. He held his hands out in front of him and noticed the tremors. He clenched them into such tight fists that they ached.

He remembered pouring Ashley her cereal yesterday morning. She'd only eaten a few bites before Neil had to leave for school. She'd blown him a kiss as she'd rushed after her brother. Not having fixed himself any
thing yet for breakfast, he'd just finished hers and downed her untouched orange juice. Was the kidnapper feeding his baby? The thought that maybe she was hungry made his stomach tighten.

“Are you taking care of yourself, J.T.?”

The reverend's question brought his head up, and he spun toward the man framed in the doorway into the living room. He peered behind them to see if Neil or Kim was there.

“They're in the kitchen. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That you were holding up. I have to admit that your son's right. You don't look well.”

“How do you think I should look? I'm living a parent's worst nightmare.” J.T. gestured at his face. “So expect it to be reflected in these lines.”

“Did the search today produce any evidence to help you?”

“Yes, but not nearly enough. There might be something found on Ashley's clothes, but I'm not holding my breath.” Finding his daughter's clothes took J.T. mentally in a whole new direction that at the moment he couldn't handle if he was going to keep himself together.

Colin studied him for a few seconds, opened his mouth to say something but didn't.

“I don't know if you heard or not, but her other shoe was found at Eric's cabin.”

“Someone mentioned that to me.” Colin moved nearer. “Eric's a troubled individual, but I don't think he took Ashley.”

“Were you counseling him?”

“Yes.”

Agitated, J.T. took a step toward the reverend. “Do you know anything that could help us?”

Colin shook his head. “I can't tell you what went on in our sessions, but I can assure you I don't know anything that could lead you to Ashley.”

Some of the tension siphoned from J.T. He leaned back against the front door. “I don't think he took Ashley, either. Finding the shoe was just too convenient. I think it was planted at his cabin by someone who wants us to believe it's Eric.”

“Then where is Eric? Do you think someone harmed him and that's why he isn't around?”

“I don't know. Maybe Eric got frightened by the nature of this case and ran. He was bound to know we would take a close look at him. I do feel whoever took my daughter planned the abduction. This isn't a spur-of-the-moment kidnapping which is what I think Eric would have done.”

“And people in prison have a lot of time to plan kidnappings. I heard you were taking a look at criminals you were responsible for putting in jail.”

“Yes. I'd better get going. I still have a lot to do tonight. Thanks again for taking care of Neil and Kim. At least I don't have to worry about them when they are with you and Emma.”

“We'll do anything we can to help.”

J.T. twisted around and grabbed the door handle.

“J.T., that includes listening to you when you need to talk.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I know.” He wrenched
the door open and stepped out onto the porch. He was afraid if he started talking to Colin the dam he had built around his emotions would burst and flood him. Then how effective would he be for Ashley, for Neil and Kim who needed him to be strong?

 

The watcher slid back into the shadows as J.T. exited the reverend's house. Dusk blanketed the landscape and afforded many places to hide.

J.T. paused on the porch and scanned the street. Anguish marked his features and gripped his body in rigid lines.

Yes!

Even from a distance J.T.'s misery could be felt. The watcher chuckled and savored what was to come.

Day two, 6:30 a.m.: Ashley missing thirty-six hours

M
adison bolted to a sitting position.
Where am I?

Blinking, she examined her surroundings, her mind groggy from sleep. Boxes were stacked against one wall while an old desk was pushed against the opposite one. A musty smell assaulted her nostrils. She shoved her fingers through her hair, trying to bring some order to the unruly strands.

She remembered now where she was and why. Because J.T. had finally lain down on his couch to rest, she'd decided to catch some sleep in the small storeroom at the back of the sheriff's station instead of the motel where the rest of the FBI agents were staying. Although there were two deputies on the night shift, she hadn't wanted J.T. to be alone in case something happened in the middle of the night.

Madison swung her legs over the side of the uncomfortable cot and rose. She did a series of quick stretches to work the aches out of her body. She felt as though
she had gone fifteen rounds with the heavyweight boxing champion and had lost.

A dim light from a window over the desk made patterns across the linoleum floor. Madison checked her watch. Six-thirty in the morning. She'd gotten three hours of sleep in the past two nights. Did J.T. get any?

She left the storeroom, her gaze immediately seeking the individuals in the large outer office. Rachel was at her computer, typing, probably had been there all night. Derek strode into the station, waving at the deputy at the counter. In the far corner a middle-aged woman bent over and picked up a trash can, then emptied it into a large plastic bag a young man about twenty held open for her. She moved on to the next desk and began picking up the used foam cups.

The blinds over the window in J.T.'s office were still pulled shut. Madison crossed to his door and eased it open. In the dark shadows she saw J.T. stretched out on his couch. A snore penetrated the silence. She smiled and started backing away.

J.T. rolled over and his eyes popped open, immediately fastening onto her. “What time is it?” Sleepiness laced his voice.

“Six-thirty.”

He shot up. “I've slept too long. Why didn't someone wake me up?”

Madison moved into his office, flipped on the overhead light and closed the door. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but three hours isn't too long.”

His head sagged forward while he massaged the back of his neck. “That's your opinion.”

She planted her fists on her hips. “And my opinion is the only one that counts in this case. I told everyone not to disturb you.”

His head yanked up, a lock of his black hair falling forward from the sudden action. “You did what?”

She dug her fingernails into her palms to keep from smoothing the strand back into place. “I told Kirk to get me if there was any news.”

“I am in charge.” He surged to his feet, anger erasing all sleepiness from his expression.

“And I would have awakened you if it was warranted. But there must not have been anything happening because I just woke up myself.”

A rap at the door cut through the uncomfortable silence that suddenly descended between them.

“Yes.” J.T. combed a hand through his short, dark hair.

“Boss, I completed the list of criminals you sent to prison. I highlighted the ones out on parole. It took some doing, but I found out where Neville Sommers is.” Rachel held some papers in her fist.

“Where?”

“Mexico. He broke his parole and fled there.”

“He hasn't returned to this country?”

Rachel shook her head. “No, he's sitting in a jail in Mexico City. So that's one down and—” she glanced at the sheets “—forty-four to go. I'm happy to report a lot of criminals you put behind bars are still there.”

He released a long, protracted breath. “Forty-four. That's forty-three too many. We have our work cut out for us.”

“I think we should each take part of the list and start
eliminating ex-cons.” Madison took the sheets from Rachel and gave part of them to J.T.

“Have the lab reports come back on Ashley's—” J.T. paused for a few heartbeats “—clothes? The shoes? The steak left at the Morgans'?”

“No. I hope they'll be in later today.” Rachel turned to leave.

“You need to go home and get some rest.” When Rachel started to protest, he added, “You've been here all night, not to mention the night before.” J.T. rounded his desk and plopped down in his chair. “Tell Derek whenever the lab reports come in to get them to me immediately.”

“Will do.” Rachel closed the door as she exited the office.

Quiet reigned for a few seconds until Madison said, “Before we get started, we should grab some breakfast at the café.”

He scanned the first sheet of names. “You go ahead.”

She took two steps to his desk and snatched the papers from his grasp. “I don't like eating alone. I do that too much. Besides, I want you to tell me about these felons I'll be tracking down. Over breakfast sounds like a good time to discuss the list.”

He glared up at her. “Did anyone ever tell you that you're a bossy—”

She waved her hand, dismissing his words. “All the time. C'mon. We can beat the morning crowd.” She didn't give him his part of the names back, but instead, stuck it with hers as she spun around and headed toward his door. When she opened it, the middle-aged woman
with gray feathered through her brown hair froze in the action of knocking.

She smiled toward J.T. “Can I clean your office?” She peered inside, wrinkling her nose. “It sure could use it.”

“Yeah, I'll be back in a half hour, Elizabeth. Sorry about the mess.”

“Don't you worry about it. Ken and I are praying for your little girl.”

“Thanks.” J.T. stepped out of his office.

Everywhere she went in Crystal Springs people were expressing their concerns and offering J.T. their prayers. He was well loved in the town—except perhaps by one person. J.T. thought it was someone from his past, but she hadn't totally ruled out that it might be someone who lived in the area.

Madison peered over her shoulder and spied J.T. trailing behind her. Then she caught sight of Elizabeth and the young man with her entering J.T.'s office. Madison started to avert her attention when she glimpsed the twenty-something's cowboy boots as he disappeared from view.

Remembering the footprints found in J.T.'s backyard made Madison stop for a few seconds and assess the man with the cleaning lady. Tall, lanky with a pointed chin and long hair tied back with a leather strap. He couldn't have weighed more than a hundred and fifty pounds. The person who made the boot impression had been estimated at a hundred eighty. Still, she couldn't rule anyone or anything out. Too much depended on them wading through the evidence and deciding what was relevant and what wasn't. One mistake could cost Ashley her life.

Madison continued forward and waited just outside the door to the station for J.T. The cool early morning air hit her and she pulled her jacket across her front. The scent of baking bread and frying bacon wafted to Madison. Her stomach churned.

J.T. opened the door and joined her on the sidewalk. He glanced up and down the street, as though appraising the area around him. “You know there has been a time or two lately I felt I was being watched.” He shrugged and started for the café directly across the road. “I'm sure it's just the thought that whoever took Ashley might want to see what effect it's having on me.”

“Who is that young man with Elizabeth?” Madison hurried to keep up with J.T.'s long strides.

“Her oldest son, Ken. Her youngest one is a friend of Neil's.”

“What do you know about them?”

He halted on the curb in front of the café and pivoted toward her. “Why the questions?”

“Ken was wearing cowboy boots.”

“There are quite a few people around here who do. My son's baseball coach only wears cowboy boots. He says it's a constant reminder of where he's from, Texas. I can't bring in everyone who wears them.”

“I'm not suggesting you do. It was just an observation. We can't rule out that the kidnapper might be someone from around here.”

“I'm not ruling anyone out. I'm focusing my investigation on the most likely suspects. Right now those are the felons who threatened me.”

While he held open the door to the restaurant, Madi
son entered and the conversation among the few customers ceased when they saw J.T. As they passed the tables to grab one in the back away from the traffic, a couple of people told J.T. how sorry they were for what happened. He nodded and kept going. Madison noticed another man with a pair of cowboy boots and decided J.T. was probably right—for the time being. But she filed the bit of information away to be pulled out later if necessary.

Seated at a table for four, J.T. flipped the menu over to the breakfast side and kept his gaze glued to the piece of laminated beige paper. Madison studied hers, and when the waitress came over she ordered a ham omelet with whole wheat toast.

The young woman looked up from her pad. “J.T., do you want your usual?”

J.T. didn't say anything. Madison wondered if he'd even heard the waitress. Madison reached across the table and touched his arm. She felt the bunched muscles beneath her fingertips. She gently shook him. “J.T., you need to order.”

He peered at the waitress, a blank expression on his face for a couple of seconds before he said, “I want my usual.”

After the waitress departed, Madison took their menus and put them behind the napkin holder. “I didn't get to ask you last night. How did your visit with Kim and Neil go?”

“As well as can be expected, I guess. Kim wants to go home. I told them we would tonight.”

“Probably not a bad idea. They need familiar surroundings.”

“I promised Kim she could come down and answer the phones today. Neil, too.”

“I can understand them wanting to help.”

“I don't want them down at the station. I don't…” He closed his eyes.

Without really thinking what she was doing, Madison cupped his hand. “Are you afraid you won't be able to keep up the facade?”

His gaze jerked to hers. “Yes! I know how scared they are, and if they see how scared I am, it won't be good.”

“It's okay to be human. Have you prayed together as a family?”

“Not nearly enough.”

“Then do. That might help Neil and Kim. You, too.”

When J.T.'s gaze lowered to her hand holding his, an urge to slip hers away warred with her need to comfort him. Being a friend won. “They have some strong emotions they're trying to deal with. You might need to show them you're dealing with the same ones.”

“Lead by example.”

“From what your staff tells me, you're very good at that. The same goes in a family.”

The waitress brought their food, placing their hot plates in front of them. J.T.'s usual turned out to be pancakes and eggs. He slathered butter on the pancakes then drenched them in maple syrup.

“I'm glad you got your appetite back.” When he gave her a quizzical look, she gestured toward his plate.

He looked down. “Not really. I just didn't want to think about what to order. One less decision to make.”

“Let's eat and discuss the names on the list.”

J.T. pushed his plate to the side and reached for his sheets.

Madison snatched them up before he could and put the whole list on the chair next to her. “Eat. Then we'll talk.”

He scowled but cut into the stack of pancakes.

Halfway through her omelet, Madison wiped her mouth, then sipped her coffee, cradling the mug between her palms. “I want you to think about the list of people you've put away. Who are the top five who might do something like kidnap your daughter?”

He chewed the last of the eggs, staring beyond her shoulder into space. “I would have said Neville Sommers would be at the top of the list, but we know he wasn't involved so…” His voice faded, his shoulders lifting in a shrug.

“I'm going to call Mexico City and check to make sure the information is correct.”

“That's not a bad idea. There might have been a time he was in jail in Mexico, but maybe he's out and back in this country. I don't want to miss any likely suspects.” With his pancakes half eaten, J.T. shoved his food away.

“We won't. So who else?”

“Let's see. Timothy Connors would be on the list definitely. He actually came at me in court. He was dragged out in chains. Then there is Willie Hayes. I won't repeat what he told me he would do to me and my family. Chris Kline is a cold one. He didn't have to say much. His body language said it all.”

Madison picked up the sheets and began scanning for the names. “I see Connors's name on here. He's out. But Hayes is still in jail and Kline is dead.”

“Dead? When?”