Chapter 33
As if the dire situation needed any help, the winter storm everyone but Sarah appeared to know about had dropped three inches of snow in the last four hours.
Sarah wished she could give Conner hope.
But in this case there was no precedence for hope.
No evidence that had led to a real suspect.
There was no genuine hope to offer.
Chief Willard called for silence. The assembled mob settled down.
“You have your search areas. Stay with your assigned groups. And for God’s sake, be careful out there. We’re all worried sick about Polly, but we don’t need anyone getting hurt and slowing down the search. Now let’s get going.”
Groups of citizens piled out the exit doors.
More than one bumped into Sarah as they rushed out of the gym. She tiptoed. Looked for Kale. She saw the top of his dark head as he exited with Deputy Brighton, and several others whose faces she didn’t recognize.
At some point this morning, maybe during that terrifying epiphany, she’d decided to call him Kale.
If she could just find him now . . .
She looked around again. No luck.
“Sarah.”
Her attention shifted right. Jerald Pope approached her. She was surprised to see him here. Yeah, he was a lifelong resident, but rich guys like him didn’t usually get involved on this level. Tossing money around was one thing, but trudging around in the snow and cold was entirely another.
“I didn’t see you in the crowd,” she said by way of greeting.
He glanced around the gym. “It’s a good showing of community support. Many of the people are from surrounding towns.”
“Yeah.” She glanced at the last of the teams filing out the doors. “I should get out there.”
“If you haven’t already been assigned to a group, you can go with us.” Jerald gestured to where his wife waited with their group. “We’d love to have you join us.”
Sarah started to say no, but since both his wife and daughter were in his group as well as the Harvey family and another she didn’t recognize, she changed her mind.
“Sure.”
“You know the Harveys, of course,” Jerald said as they walked toward the group.
“Yeah.”
“It was important to Jerri Lynn that we be a part of their group.”
Sarah just bet it was.
Quick introductions were made and car assignments given. Sarah would be riding with Jerald and Lynda Pope and two of the people she didn’t recognize.
She’d hoped to get some time with Barton Harvey since he’d obviously been avoiding her. The swelling in his cheek had diminished, but the red had turned a less-than-attractive shade of blue. Maybe that was why he’d avoided her. He had to know she knew.
As they exited the gym, coat hoods went up and gloves went on. She decided to go for broke. “Mr. Harvey.”
He paused. The others kept going. Everyone wanted to get started. Engines roared as vehicle after vehicle rushed from the snowy parking lot.
“I missed you at the inn. I had a question for you.”
“We need to catch up with our assigned groups,” he groused.
“Valerie Gerard worked for you last summer.”
Sarah watched his eyes. She had to word her question very carefully or risk giving away her source. “Was she having problems? I understand the two of you had some pretty intense discussions.”
His pupils flared. “I’ve been over this with the chief. Ask him your question.”
He turned away. What the hell? “Were the two of you involved?”
Barton Harvey halted. For three beats the snow fell around him and everything else seemed to stop.
Then he walked away, left her standing there without a response.
Whether he knew it or not, he’d just given Sarah his answer. He was definitely hiding something. Something intensely personal . . . to him.
She dashed to the waiting SUV. Mercedes. Black.
Sarah climbed into the back seat with the other two passengers. Loren and Carla somebody.
The ride to Beauchamp Road was silent. The Popes had been given that area since it was their home territory. Judging by the pricey coats the other two were wearing, they were from the same exclusive neighborhood.
As they unloaded, Jerald suggested directions for dividing up the area. Loren whatever-his-name-was agreed. He and his wife headed south. In the distance Sarah could see another vehicle doing the same.
“Sarah,” Jerald said, “the three of us will take the north end of our sector.”
The shore. The water.
The ocean fuels him . . . makes him feel powerful.
“Jerald knows every cave in the area,” Lynda explained.
Sarah’s gaze settled on Jerald Pope. Rich. Powerful. Lived by the water. Had always lived here. Instinct nudged her. She glanced at his feet, at least a size 10. She had no plausible reason to consider him more of a suspect than anyone else. Other than the instincts of a kid.
“You’re sure you’re up to this?” he asked his wife.
She nodded. “I’ll be fine.” She glanced at Sarah. “I want to do my part.”
Jerald led the way behind his home. The steps carved from the cliffs would have made the going easier had they not been covered with a fresh blanket of snow.
Lynda’s descent was closely monitored by her husband.
Sarah’s instincts hummed but she was torn.
Part of her wanted to watch every move Pope made.
But the other part of her, the part that wasn’t so certain, kept dragging her attention back to his wife.
Lynda looked physically fit. Why would she not be up to this?
As they reached the shore, Jerald surveyed left then right. “If we split up, we can work faster. I’ll take this side.” He pointed left. “Sarah, why don’t you and Lynda take that direction?”
“How far do we go?” Sarah didn’t know the area well enough to comprehend the division of territory. Right now, focusing on the search was top priority. She could analyze the Popes an hour from now.
“About two miles.” Jerald looked to Lynda. “To the Point. Sam Drake’s team is taking the sector beyond that as well as the loop that circles the woods.”
“We’ll meet you back here,” Lynda assured him.
Jerald glanced back once as he headed left.
Sarah had to restrain the need to run after him. Was letting him out of her sight a mistake? There was no legitimate reason to jump to conclusions.
“There are two caves on our side,” Lynda explained as she ushered Sarah to the right. “The Point he mentioned is the parking area where those who live on the islands”—she indicated the four small islands that dotted the inlet—“leave their vehicles to travel by boat out to whichever one they own.”
Sarah nodded, forced herself to focus. She had her flashlight in her bag. She was sure Lynda had one in her bag as well, since the chief had gone over the list of items each team needed to ensure they carried.
The walk along the rocky shore was rough going. The snow had melted enough to be treacherous between the rocks since the temperature hovered around thirty-eight degrees. They were very lucky the storm hadn’t brought colder air or the search efforts would be exceedingly limited.
Sarah kept thinking how devastated Conner’s family was. And of Polly’s bubbly spirit. If she was out here—Sarah surveyed the foggy shoreline—she would be scared, possibly injured.
Polly would die . . . just like the others . . . if she wasn’t found.
Fast.
Sarah didn’t want that to happen. An unfamiliar ache rose in her chest. She had to figure this out.
Damned fast.
“The first cave is over here.” Lynda pointed to the cliffs. “Access is limited to the first twenty or so feet.” She glanced at Sarah. “It’s pretty cramped in there.”
“Do you want me to go first?”
Lynda shook her head. “I can go first.”
As they reached the mouth of the cave, the icy water stood in their path. Only a few inches deep, but without boots, that frigid cold was going to suck.
Lynda, realizing the same, glanced at Sarah’s Converses. “I think maybe you should stay out here.”
“What size do you wear?” Sarah glanced at her waterproof snow boots.
“Seven, but—”
“I wear an eight, but sometimes a seven works.” Sarah sat on the closest boulder. “Let me give it a try.”
“Eight’s Jerri Lynn’s size.” Lynda tugged off a boot. “Occasionally we can wear the same shoe.” She pulled the second one free. “In fact, we both have these boots, and sometimes we get them mixed up.”
With effort, Sarah pulled the boots on. Snug, but bearable. “This’ll work. You stay here and I’ll check it out.”
“It’s been a long time, but I’ve been in there before,” Lynda argued.
“No offense,” Sarah insisted, “but your husband seemed worried about you out here. Let me do this. I’m experienced at this sort of thing.”
Lynda sighed impatiently but eased down on a big rock of her own. “He worries too much. This isn’t the first time my specialist has changed my medication. Jerald frets every time as if it’s the end of the world.”
Sounded serious to Sarah, since she didn’t take Jerald Pope as one to worry unnecessarily.
Would a man who cared so for his wife and daughter be capable of such heinous murders?
Others had. Sarah shook off the thought, turned her full attention on Lynda Pope.
“If you don’t mind my asking, why do you need medication? ”
“It’s nothing. Lots of women are affected.
” Lynda tugged on the Converses. “Mitral valve prolapse,” she explained.
“I was diagnosed a couple of years ago. It’s a little more complicated than the usual case.
I’ve been on several different medications over the years, but I’m fine.
Really. It flares up now and again, particularly if I’m under stress. ”
Heart condition. Sarah rode out the adrenaline charge, careful not to let the tension show. “What do they give you for that?”
“Last time it was one of those beta-blockers that’s been around forever.
This time something new.” Lynda frowned.
“I can’t recall the name of it. I just got it two days ago.
I haven’t even filled the prescription yet.
” Her gaze collided with Sarah’s. “Don’t say anything.
Jerald would not be pleased if he knew I’d left Bangor without getting it filled. ”
“Bangor?” Sarah controlled her breathing though her heart rate had sped up.
“That’s where I go to see my specialist.”
“A friend of mine takes beta-blockers,” Sarah lied. “Which one do you take?”
Lynda named the drug.
Anticipation seared through Sarah. It was the same one found in Alicia Appleton’s tox screen. Sarah nodded then stood, couldn’t wait to get started. The sooner they covered their sector, the sooner she could find Kale. “You wait here. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve checked things out.”
Lynda waved her off. “No hurry. I’ll be waiting.”
Sarah resisted the impulse to reach for her cell and call Kale with the news about Lynda Pope’s medication. Sarah had to do this right. Polly could be here . . .
As Sarah turned her back, the hair on her neck lifted. Was she turning her back on a killer?
Or a killer’s wife?