Friendly Fire Page 9

  Ruth glanced down at Dawn. “I just tried to talk her into some dinner, but she said she’s not hungry,” she said. She looked back up at Julia. “I know you don’t want to eat, but it’s important to keep up your strength. Don’t you worry. That Sheriff is going to find your girl.” Ruth gave a meaningful glance down at Dawn, and Julia knew she had to make an effort.

  “You’re right, Ruth. We should eat. I think there’s some leftover roast beef in the fridge,” she said, though she wanted to gag. Even though she was a “foodie,” she didn’t know how she would get one bite down now. She’d have to force herself to eat for her daughter’s sake.

  When the phone rang, she practically landed on it, knocking it to the floor and scrambling to her knees to answer it. “Hello?” she cried out.

  “Julia.” It was Logan, and she could hear a vehicle in the background. He must have been driving.

  “Logan, what’s going on? Did you find her?” She wanted to reach through the phone. She needed good news, something to hold on to.

  “They found a girl’s shoe. I need to ask you what shoes Trinity was wearing today: color, brand, size.”

  Julia pressed her finger to her forehead to think, but she couldn’t remember. “Dawn!” she called, racing into the kitchen, where her daughter stood with Ruth, her eyes wide at her mother’s outburst. “What shoes did Trinity wear today?”

  “She wore her boots to school, Mom.”

  “Logan, she had boots on,” Julia said, suddenly remembering. “They were brown, knee-high with fur at the top.”

  He sighed on the other end. “No, not boots, Julia. They found a pink shoe.”

  She shut her eyes. “Logan, she has indoor shoes at school. They’re pink, size three—what brand? I don’t know, Logan. I bought them at Wal-Mart in Boise before school started. They’re just some kids’ brand, all pink with yellow laces.” She looked to Dawn. “Dawn, are Trinity’s indoor shoes the same as yours?”

  “Mom, Trinity has stars on hers. Mine have dolphins.”

  “Right. How could I forget? Logan, she has stars on her shoes.”

  He was talking to someone in the background, and she could hear another man’s deep voice. She couldn’t make out what they were saying. “Julia, Jordy just talked to the team that found her shoe. It was pink, with a star. The size is right, too, so it’s her shoe. Would Trinity go off alone on a trail?”

  “No, never! I mean, we talked about going for a hike, checking out the trails together. They’ve done it with school, but she would never take off.” She was clutching at her chest.

  “Okay, Julia. I’ve got to go. We’re going to start tracking her. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”

  “Logan,” she said urgently, holding the phone with both hands and turning away from Ruth and her daughter.

  “Yeah?” He sounded hurried.

  “Please find her,” she whispered.

  “I won’t stop until I do,” he said. Then he hung up.

  As Julia clutched the phone to her chest, she truly believed Logan was a man who lived and died by his word. He wouldn’t come back until he found her.

  Chapter 19

  “Where did you find the shoe?” Logan asked one of the team members, a young lady with a mass of dark, curly hair.

  She pointed to the creek bed. “In between the rocks there. I can only think her foot got stuck or something.”

  Jordy was looking at the ground with a stick, lifting debris and just studying. He did it with a skill Logan recognized, and he wondered about his deputy’s background. Jordy hadn’t shared much about himself.

  “Jordy, any tracks?” he asked.

  “Lots of tracks, Sheriff. That’s the problem,” he said, glancing up at Logan in the dimming light. “Tracking is going to be difficult and slow once the sun goes down.”

  Logan glanced around at the twenty or so volunteers who had gathered after hearing a shoe had been found. Logan recognized one of the group leaders, a volunteer fireman. What was his name, again?

  “Hey, Tom!” Logan called, gesturing to him. The man hurried over. He had a thick mustache and wore a ball cap and a checkered red jacket. “Who walked where in this grid area? I don’t need to tell you that stepping over tracks makes it harder to find Trinity.”

  “Sheriff, I’m sorry, but when Nora spotted the shore, many of us were already across the creek and down the way. As soon as I heard, I called them in and had everyone stop. You were notified, and we called Cyrus, too. He’s got the best tracking dogs in Custer County. He’s on his way.”

  “All right. Okay, everyone, listen up!” Logan shouted. “We’re losing light fast. First things first, we need to find some tracks. Jordy and I are going to move on ahead until we can pick up her route. The rest of you, meet up with your team leaders. Once we find any sign of her, you’re going to spread out, and everyone is going to pay attention to their surroundings. Look for broken branches, pieces of cloth, anything that tells you someone’s come through here. If you don’t know what you’re doing, buddy up with someone who does. Those who are trained in search and rescue know how important it is not to cover tracks. Everyone, make sure you have a flashlight and report in.” Logan looked to Tom, who gestured to another team leader and gathered the group. “Jordy, which way?” he asked.

  Jordy didn’t say anything for the longest time. “Along the creek,” he finally replied.

  “Not the other side?” Logan asked, wondering what made Jordy think they needed to stay on this bank.

  “Not yet. See the way the shoes sits here, the direction?” He gestured so Logan could follow. “Let’s go down this way, see if we can pick up her tracks.”

  Logan followed behind, watching Jordy pick through the brush, careful where he stepped. It was exactly what Logan would have done. He didn’t know why he was letting Jordy take the lead—maybe to get a better read on him? There was something about the way people behaved that often told him everything he needed to know—and Jordy was a mystery he was determined to solve.

  “Here, one print. It’s a child’s shoe. She’s wearing a sock on her other foot. You can see the imprint of her toes…and look right here,” Jordy said, pointing.

  Logan knew what he was looking at. It was exactly what he had been afraid of. “That’s a man’s footprint, all right. He’s tall, too; maybe six feet. By the tread, it could be a hiking boot.” Logan touched his sidearm and pulled the flashlight from his jacket pocket. He shone it on the ground, as it was getting harder to see. There was only an hour left before they would be in complete darkness. He looked up, relieved to see no cloud cover. With a half moon, at least there would be some light. His cell phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket to see that Rose was calling. “Rose, what is it?”

  “Sheriff, Maloney was gone when Fred got to the cafe,” she said. “Fred’s still there. What do you want him to do?”

  “Tell him to stay there,” Logan replied. “Have Clinton swing around and see if Maloney is at home. Oh, and, Rose, did Clinton find out whether anyone else is unaccounted for?”

  “So far, there’s only Rick, who owns the garage, old Missus Hathway, and Jimmy Doles. I doubt Missus Hathway would have anything to do with this, and Rick…well, he grew up here, a hell-raiser, cusses a lot, a little angry, but he’s not a bad man.”

  “And?” Logan said. He could tell Rose was holding on to something.

  “Jimmy Doles has been in and out of prison, Sheriff. Small-time stuff: burglary, check fraud. Do you think he’s responsible?

  “I don’t know, Rose. Right now, everyone who’s missing is a suspect. Send me his photo,” he replied before pocketing his phone. He took in Jordy and their surroundings. “You heard Brent’s gone?”

  “Yeah,” Jordy replied.

  “Clinton’s on his way over to his place. Now, tell me about Jimmy Doles and Rick, the garage owner. Both are missing.”

  “Rick’s a little rough around the edges. He can be a mean drunk, rough with women. Jimmy Doles has been sen
t up two times. His family was from here, and that’s why he came back. Are you asking if either could take a kid?”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “With Rick, I can’t see it,” Jordy said. “Jimmy…I don’t know for sure. Things happen to men in prison sometimes—but so far he’s been all about theft.”

  “Okay, let’s get going,” Logan said as they moved further away from the group. His cell phone rang again. “Yeah, what?”

  “Sheriff, it’s Rose,” came the reply. “Brent Maloney’s not at his house. Clinton said it was all dark and no one was home. His car’s not there, either.” Rose sounded panicked.

  “Okay, listen,” Logan replied. “I want Jordy to get his plate, and—”

  There was a rustling, and something hit Logan on the back of the head. Everything went black.

  Chapter 20

  “Sheriff…?”

  Logan blinked. For a moment, he wondered where he was. He was flat out on the ground, eating dirt. His head hurt like hell, and he spit out grit and reached out for his gun on the ground, feeling debris and leaves and twigs, then nothing. He blinked in the darkness. What country was he in? Where was the enemy?

  He was sweating and felt a lick of panic up the back of his neck. Something was crawling up his back. The bugs kept him alert, and he hated them; but he sucked it up, not giving anything away. Then he heard it again, something distant—a voice through a phone. He started to sit up, but his head hurt as if someone had split it in two. A flashlight flickered in his eyes.

  “Sheriff, are you all right?”

  Logan wove as he sat up. Putting his hand on the back of his head, he felt something wet and sticky.

  “Sheriff, what happened?”

  He recognized Tom. All Logan remembered was that someone had hit him over the head. He spotted the lit cell phone on the ground and could hear Rose calling him again. He reached for the phone. “Rose, I’ll call you back,” he muttered.

  She shouted through the phone before he could hang up, probably ready to throttle him. “Sheriff, what happened?” she cried.

  “Someone hit me in the head. Let me call you back.” He hung up the phone and turned to Tom. “Help me up,” he said. Another man appeared at his side, and Logan had to swallow a couple times to hold back the bile. He looked around. “Where’s Jordy?”

  He felt sick for a minute, realizing Jordy had knocked him out. Why?

  “Son of a bitch!” he shouted. “Get on the radio to everyone. I want you to pull all of the volunteers out now. Send them back. Let everyone know we’re looking for Jordy, and he’s armed.”

  “Did Jordy take that little girl?” Tom asked.

  “That’s what it looks like,” Logan said, sucking in a couple more breaths as he fought the urge to puke. He was determined to hold it together.

  He swore again and spit on the ground. He couldn’t believe he’d been suckered. Logan was good at reading people, but turning his back on Jordy and getting knocked over the head…well, he knew better. In his unit, he never would have been so sloppy.

  “Sheriff, we need to get you back to the station to get your head looked at,” Tom said. He set his hand on Logan’s arm, but Logan shook it off.

  “No, Tom. You go back, get your crew out of here. There’s a little girl out there, and I’m not coming back without her.”

  Tom gave him a look and shook his head. “I can’t leave you alone out here, Sheriff. You were knocked out cold. You probably have a concussion.”

  “Tom, that’s an order. Jordy is…” His cell phone started ringing again—Rose, of course. She was probably going to nag him to death, too. “Rose, I don’t have time,” he answered.

  “Sheriff Wilde, this is George Wilcox,” came the voice over the phone. The old sheriff had a deep voice that meant serious business.

  “Sheriff, glad you could make it,” Logan said, surprised.

  “Was leaving on vacation when Jordy called me back; said you wanted to know about problem people in the area and who could have had a hand in taking Trinity.”

  “Well, you’re a little late, George, since Jordy just knocked me over the head. He took off, so I think we’ve figured out who took her. What can you tell me about him?”

  “What? That doesn’t sound like Jordy. I’ve known that boy a good many years,” the sheriff said, sounding genuinely dismayed.

  Logan staggered a bit. There was some static at the other end, and he wondered when he’d lose service. “Tell me, George, what’s Jordy’s background? What can you tell me about him? He’s worked here eight years, but before that, what did he do?”

  The old sheriff let out a sigh. “Jordy’s Shoshone; raised on the reservation. He spent time in juvie when he was eighteen. Then he enlisted—did a tour in Afghanistan.”

  “So he has tracking skills, knows how to look after himself. He could probably hide out and live off the land; leaving no trace.”

  “Yeah, he’s one of the best trackers…but I still can’t believe Jordy could be responsible! He’s not like that. One of the reasons he ended up in juvie was protecting his little brother from his mother’s drunken boyfriend. Took a tire iron to him, broke his arm and three ribs, cracked his skull. Could have killed him but didn’t.”

  Logan didn’t know what to think. What he did know was that he’d lost the light, and he was out here in the middle of nowhere, possibly being watched by someone who knew the trails better than he did. “George, did Jordy spend much time out on the trails? He mentioned there’re hideaways and cabins all through here.”

  “He’s right,” the sheriff replied. “A man could live forever in there if he knew how to live off the grid. It’ll be hard to find him if he doesn’t want to be found.”

  “Excuse me, Sheriff,” Tom said, stepping closer. “I know where every one of those spots is. I grew up here. My dad was a hunting guide.”

  Logan hesitated only a second before saying, “Fine, you stay with me.” He turned again and had to stick his finger in his other ear, as there was more static on the line. “George, our connection isn’t that great, but Tom says he knows all those spots Jordy spoke of.”

  “He does, but so do a few folks in the area. Rose said Jimmy Doles was missing, too, and then that teacher you were looking into…Brent Maloney? I remember when he showed up here. I thought it was kind of odd, a single man just moving way out here.”

  Logan really had to listen to pick up what George was saying. “Yeah, I was suspicious, too, but Jordy just tipped his hand. Whatever those two are up to, well, there’ll be a time and place to check that out. It’s just not now.” The line kept cutting in and out. Logan moved again, and this time he couldn’t hear anything. “George, you still there?” he said, but the line had gone dead. He realized, as he stared at his cell phone, that his battery had died.

  He looked out at Tom and into the darkened forest. He needed help, eyes in the sky—and he knew exactly who he needed to call. “Tom, I need your phone,” he said.

  Tom fished it from his vest as Logan tried to remember the number. After dialing, he waited as it rang.

  “Hello?” a deep voice answered, and Logan could hear a woman laughing in the background.

  “Ben, hope I’m not disturbing you. It’s your brother, Logan.”

  “Logan, nice to hear from you! How’s life as a sheriff in a small town working for you?”

  “Well, that’s why I’m calling,” Logan said. “I need your help.”

  He had to pull the phone away when Ben laughed on the other end, and he knew why. Logan never asked anyone for help. He was the one who knocked his brothers’ heads together, stepping in to help them out. He listened to them and was always there for them.

  Maybe Ben had realized something was wrong, as his tone changed. “You’re serious?”

  “Yeah, I am,” Logan said. “There’s a little girl missing, and I need help finding her. You have access to a chopper with that fancy oil company, right?”

  “I do. Tell me what you need, and you’ve
got it.”

  “Grab a pen and write down these coordinates. I need eyes in the sky. Ben, one more thing; call Rose at the MacKay station and tell her who you are. Tell her I’m all right. And…Ben?”

  “Yeah, Logan?”

  He waited. There was something about having backup—someone he could depend on. It was a familiar feeling, something like what he had sensed during his time in the marines, with his unit. He didn’t know how to say it.

  Maybe Ben already knew, because he said, “I know, Logan—and you’re welcome.”

  Chapter 21

  “Rose, is there anything?” Julia asked, gripping the phone to her ear as if it was a lifeline.

  “Well, actually, there is. I shouldn’t tell you, but…” she started, and Julia wanted to reach through the phone and shake her.

  “Rose, don’t keep anything from me. I need to know. I’m going crazy here, and Logan hasn’t called. I’m freaking out.” She felt a hand touch her shoulder and saw Ruth’s long red nails in her peripheral vision. She was getting really loud. Probably scaring Dawn; who was lying on the sofa with a blanket.

  “We think Jordy is somehow involved in Trinity going missing,” Rose said.

  “What? That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he do it?” Julia replied. She couldn’t grasp the enormity of the situation’ but Jordy had been in her cafe almost every day for the past two years. He was a mystery, and her skin crawled now to think she had been serving him all this time, and he had done this to her. He had watched her children from a position of power—a deputy, an authority figure. Of course, if he had told Trinity to come with him, she wouldn’t have hesitated. Julia felt such a sense of betrayal. “Rose, if he took her…” She couldn’t finish. Her chest filled with an ache that threatened to close up her lungs, and taking her next breath took quite a bit of effort.

  “Jordy hit Logan over the head, knocked him out,” Rose said.

  Julia was reeling. Logan was hurt? She couldn’t quash her need to get out there. “Rose, is he okay?” she asked, her voice shaking.