Chapter Eleven
Bryn wrapped his arms around Gunnar’s solid body and relaxed.
Being on the bike meant freedom, if only for a short while.
He was beginning to crave these interludes where it was just the two of them on the open road.
The last two months had been crazy busy.
Agent Bell and his FBI team had taken over the Walmart killer case and were working it as a presumed serial killer.
The mafia accountant’s trial had concluded and they were waiting on a verdict from the jury.
He and Gunnar had been working long hours helping with as many cases as possible and Bryn was tired.
He was also finding it harder and harder to ignore his growing feelings for his partner.
The helmet mic buzzed. “I said I’d brief you as we traveled. You awake back there?”
“Yeah. I’d have fallen off the bike if I wasn’t, wouldn’t I?”
“We need to work on a way of strapping you on so that can’t happen.” Gunnar sounded amused. “The amount of work we’ve cleared recently, I’m surprised you can stay conscious.”
“I could use a day off. You think we could sneak out without Warden or Emmett noticing?”
“Not a hope.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“I can ask, though. There’s a Wolf Run coming up that I want to do. You could come watch.”
“I’ve heard of those. Didn’t know it was a real thing, though, thought it was made up.”
“They’re real. A Wolf Run is a race and a hunt combined. I’ll tell you more about it when we’re done today, but we need to talk about the case now.”
“So where are we heading?”
“Essex County. A small town called Boxford.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Me either, until Emmett gave me the case briefing this morning while you were still snoring.”
“I do not snore,” Bryn protested.
“Must have been the wildebeest you keep under your bed then.”
“Fuck off.”
Gunnar chuckled. “Boxford is small, population about eight thousand. Close-knit community, lots of farming. Bordered by Boxford State Forest.”
“Okay, so what’s going on in Boxford? Doesn’t sound like a center of crime.”
“Yeah, the crime rate is extremely low, which makes this case unusual. A kid has gone missing and Boxford Police Department is treating it as abduction because the parents received a ransom demand for a million dollars.”
“How old is the kid?”
“Seven. A boy called Edwin Jones. Parents are Edwin Senior and Rosalie. They run a plant nursery.”
“So why has this one come to us?”
“Local PD suspects the parents might be involved and the kid is an asthmatic, he could be at risk.”
“Any history?”
“No criminal record for either parent. One ticket for speeding. Finances are shaky.”
“So why would they be targeted for an abduction if they can’t pay a ransom?”
“Rosalie’s estranged father is Frederic Salt of Salt’s Farm Machinery. He’s loaded.”
Bryn shifted his position, deliberately relaxing his shoulders. “So what? Local cops think the parents want to hit daddy up for the million ransom but actually it’s for them?”
“I guess so.”
“So why do they need us?”
“They can’t find the kid and they want to make sure he’s safe before they make any accusations. They want you to read the parents.”
Gunnar took a wide, sweeping bend and Bryn tightened his hold. “They aren’t going to agree to that, surely?”
“Which is why we aren’t going to tell them what you are.”
“If we do that, they won’t be able to use my evidence in court.”
“They’re aware of that. They think they can close the case anyway but want to find Edwin Junior first.”
“So who are we supposed to be?”
“Specialist trackers who are going to head into the forest to help with the search. All you need to do is shake hands with them before we leave.”
“I get the search thing with you being a wolf, but I don’t fit the profile.”
“You’re my tech support.”
“Figures. You know what I do doesn’t work so well if I shake hands, it’s better with a pulse point.”
“I’m sure you can figure it out.”
Gunnar built up some exhilarating speed as he navigated the winding roads of Essex County.
He slowed as they approached Boxford, which proved to be quaint, with a number of colonial-era homes, their white clapboard facades and colorful shutters standing in stark contrast to the dark backdrop of the woods.
They circled the town green then the steeple of the First Church of Boxford appeared above the treetops.
Jones’ Plant Place was on the outskirts of town.
Once Gunnar had pulled into a graveled parking lot and they’d dismounted, Bryn took off his helmet and scanned the area.
Row upon row of plants stretched out to one side of a cluster of buildings.
In the distance he could see several greenhouses, sunlight glinting off the glass panes.
“Smells good,” Gunnar said. “Earthy and fresh.” He took a deep breath.
“That sniffer of yours working overtime, huh?”
“Yeah. Wolves like trees.”
“You know that’s wide open for a comment about… Never mind. Not the time.” Bryn turned away from Gunnar’s challenging gaze and scrambled out of his leathers.
“Wolves do like to mark their territory.”
Bryn swiveled around to find Gunnar leering at him.
“Stop that! You’re worse than I am.”
Gunnar shrugged. “You started it.”
Changing the subject seemed like a plan. “You think that’s where the family lives?” Bryn nodded at a large modern house to the left of the business premises. There were people milling around outside and he could see some uniforms.
“Let’s head over there and find Sergeant Kaminski. He’s our contact. He’s in charge of the search and knows he has to maintain our cover.”
“I should take my gloves off. It’s not cold enough for it not to seem strange I’m wearing them.”
“Okay. I’ll talk the talk and make nice with people. You be your usual emo self.”
Bryn stuck his tongue out at his partner. “Rude.”
“There’s better things you could be doing with that tongue. We should talk about that.” Gunnar strode in the direction of the house and Bryn, gaping, trailed after him.
If Edwin Junior’s parents were faking, they were doing a damn good job.
They were standing with the sergeant at the front of a crowd of people dressed in outdoor gear and preparing to leave.
Two groups departed before Bryn and Gunnar reached them but others were still milling around discussing grid references and locations in the forest.
Gunnar introduced himself to Sergeant Kaminski. “Specialist search team reporting for duty.” He nodded to Edwin Senior and Rosalie. “Sir, Ma’am.”
“Welcome, and thanks so much for coming out here, I know you guys are in demand,” Kaminski said.
Edwin Senior held out his hand. “The sergeant here has told us about you. We really appreciate your help.”
Gunnar shook his hand then Bryn stepped forward. He did a double-handed shake that allowed him to grip Edwin’s wrist as well as his palm.
“We’re so sorry you’re going through this.” He followed suit with Rosalie. “This must be incredibly difficult for you, ma’am.” He stepped back.
“Sergeant, perhaps you could bring us up to speed with the search,” Gunnar said.
“Let me get this last group on the way. Mr. and Mrs. Jones, you should go wait by the phone.”
Rosalie burst into tears and her husband escorted her into the house, an arm around her shaking shoulders.
“Convincing, aren’t they?” Kaminski said.
“Yeah, how sure are you that they’re behind the kid’s disappearance?”
“Ninety-eight percent.”
“So why the search parties if the kid’s supposed to have been taken by his own parents?”
“The ransom call. The threat was that the child will be killed and left in the forest if the ransom isn’t paid by six tomorrow morning.
We have to assume that he’s already in there somewhere.
The forest is inaccessible. There are very few drivable tracks and wardens patrol the most frequented areas.
It’s possible the child was taken somewhere days before we were called in and with the parents here, he might be alone. ”
“Let’s go somewhere private and Bryn can tell you what he saw.”
Kaminski gave Bryn a curious look. “It’s true then, you’re an augur?”
Bryn nodded. “Lucky me.”
The three of them made their way to a storage shed that had a table set up in front of it with drinks and snacks for the searchers. There was nobody within hearing distance.
“Okay,” said Gunnar, “what did you see?”
“A bit of a disclaimer first, Sergeant. These were really fast reads compared to what I usually do. My default is to see a person’s strongest memory. Seeing their intent, or the future if you like, takes longer so I couldn’t do that. I’d need more contact time.”
“Fair enough.”
“So, Mr. Jones’ strongest memory is his wife telling him their son is missing. His emotions were intense. Desperate worry was the overriding feeling. I can say with certainty that he had no knowledge of his son’s disappearance prior to that moment.”
Sergeant Kaminski frowned. “Unexpected, but go on.”
“Mrs. Jones’ most powerful memory is of driving her unconscious child into the forest then trekking through the trees. She was with a man, who carried the child. She was annoyed, struggling with the terrain and impatient.”
“Fuck. Who would have put money on the mother?” The sergeant’s expression darkened. “At least our instinct to start searching was right. We could have wasted so much time already.”
“It’s her father who has money, isn’t it?” Gunnar asked. “Maybe daddy objected to her marriage or there’s some other reason she thinks he owes her?”
“I couldn’t tell how long ago they took the child into the forest,” Bryn said. “We need to go find him.”
“There are coyotes and black bears out there,” Sergeant Kaminski said.
“Show me the maps,” Gunnar said. “We can direct the search teams to potential spots then Bryn and I will go out ourselves. A wolf’s nose might help. Bryn, is there anything you saw that could help pinpoint a location?”