Chapter 49 Lawson
LAWSON
“Found something,” Anson said as he looked up from his computer screen.
I spun my chair to face his. My back teeth felt ground down to nubs. The FBI was on their way, but it was too late. Miller already had her. What we needed was a line on where he could be now.
“Talk,” I snapped.
He ignored my tone and looked back at his computer screen. “Damien Miller was married from age twenty-three to twenty-five. He and his wife divorced, and two years later, she went missing. Her body was never found.”
My fingers gripped the edge of the conference table. “What good does that do us now?”
Holt shifted in the chair next to me, gripping my shoulder. “We need to know what makes the guy tick. It will help us figure out where he might go.”
I knew he was right, but hours had already passed. Time that Miller could have been doing anything to Hallie. Everything inside me trembled as if I might shatter if someone simply breathed wrong.
I knew my family and my team were doing everything they could. The county was crawling with law enforcement. They were checking trailheads and campsites, back roads, and rental cabins. So far, we had absolutely nothing.
Anson cleared his throat. “I found an old friend of the ex-Mrs. Miller on Facebook.”
I blinked at him. “You’re on Facebook?”
He grimaced at me. “I’ve got a fake account for research. Told her I was a true crime blogger.”
“What did she say?” I pressed.
“Reina Miller knew she made a mistake marrying Damien within a couple of months but wasn’t quite sure how to get out of it. She tried to suggest separating, but Damien lost it. Eventually, she started up a relationship with a guy she met at the gym.”
Roan let out a low whistle. “While she was still married?”
Anson nodded. “Damien came home from work early one day, had a headache, and found his wife and her workout buddy in bed together. Their bed.”
“Having your wife cheat on you doesn’t turn someone into a serial killer,” I ground out.
“No. There’s also a history of antisocial behavior. No close friends. Barely talked to his family. I’m still digging, but this friend thought it was weird that Damien was a vet.”
“Why?” Grae asked from her spot at the end of the table.
Anson glanced at her. “He refused to get a pet for Reina. Said animals ruin homes.”
“Control freak,” Nash muttered.
“I’d say he definitely needs control. Based on Hallie’s statements from five years ago and looking at the photos of his ex, I think he’s trying to replace his wife.”
That sick feeling was back in my gut as Anson turned the laptop around.
The woman wasn’t as beautiful as Hallie, and her eyes were green instead of gray, but there was no denying the resemblance.
Young, fair, pale blond hair, and a petite frame.
Just like she resembled the other victims from five years ago and the ones from now.
The only one who didn’t fit was Kimber Anderson.
“Kimber Anderson had red hair. And her death doesn’t match the others,” I pointed out.
Anson nodded. “My best guess is he needed an outlet for his rage at seeing Hallie again. She didn’t fit the mold, so he didn’t keep her.”
“But he’s not just looking for a replacement.” My voice was low, unrecognizable. “He’s killing her over and over again.”
Anson turned his computer back toward himself. “I think they do something that either proves they aren’t similar to Reina or indicates they’re unworthy. Hallie didn’t do that in all the days he had her. She’s smart. She’ll hang on.”
I shoved back from the table, sending my chair flying. “But what the hell is he doing to her in the meantime?”
Anson’s face closed down. I knew he understood what it was to have a loved one in the hands of a madman.
Roan stood, stalking around the table to me. “Rein it in. You won’t be doing a damned thing for her if you lose it now.”
The muscle beneath my eye fluttered wildly. “I can’t lose her.”
“So, let’s all pull our shit together and find her,” Roan growled. “I’d like a few minutes alone with this asshole. He’s been alone with my wife and daughter.”
“You need to start where she was found before,” Anson said, his voice devoid of emotion.
Dad turned to him. “Why do you say that?”
“He’s trying to finish what he started. The pull will be strong to go back to his original hunting grounds.”
Holt was already moving, pulling a map out of the pile. “I’ve got that area marked.”
“She was held in a cave, right?” Caden asked.
I nodded. “One big enough to have several rooms. But the authorities never found it back then.”
Caden shook his head. “The FBI doesn’t know the area as well as we do. There’s a massive system of caves just a couple of miles north of where they found her. Some to the west, too.”
“They did some searching around there but said they didn’t find anything,” I argued.
Dad leaned over the maps. “It would’ve taken a hell of a lot of manpower to search everything they needed to. Especially if they weren’t familiar with the area.”
Roan traced a finger over the map. “Here. There used to be a forest service road. It’s not active anymore, but I bet it’s still passable. It’ll get us the closest.”
Holt pulled out his phone. “The team’s ready. I’ll have them meet us there. I want search parties of four. Two SAR team members, two law enforcement. Move. Now.”
Everyone was on their feet and heading for the door. Roan came up to my side. “You ride with me.”
“I’m fine.”
“With me,” he clipped.
I bit back my retort as I grabbed my gear bag and followed him out to his truck. At least Roan would be quiet on the drive. And he gave me that for a good fifteen minutes. Right until we hit the forest service road.
“You were there for me when I thought I was going to lose Aspen. You kept my head in the game and helped me get her back.”
My throat constricted at the memory of how torn up Roan had been.
He pulled to a stop next to the other vehicles. “I’m going to do the same for you. We won’t let her fall.”
I swallowed down the burning sensation. “Thank you.”
He clapped me on the shoulder. “Let’s go get your girl.”
It only took minutes for the team to assemble. Grae and Dad would work the map and coordinate the search parties. Holt paired himself with Nash, Caden, and Clint. I went with Roan, Daniels, and Maddie. The rest of our group formed the other teams of four.
Shadow barked, happy to be out in the snow, no matter the circumstances.
Maddie grabbed my arm. “Law, look.”
She pointed through the dark forest. I didn’t see it at first but then a glimmer of silver peeked through the underbrush—Damien’s SUV.
Hope surged. “We move now,” I clipped. “He’s close. Dad, call in a crime scene team to process the truck.”
He jerked his head in a nod, and we took off.
My team and Holt’s were sent to the caves to the west. We made the mile-and-a-half trek in fifteen minutes, even in the snow. There were four cave openings, and Shadow sniffed the air, pulling Maddie toward the one on the left.
“Our girl has a scent,” Maddie said quietly.
Holt and I shared a look.
“You want everyone in that cave or split up?” he asked.
My gut twisted. Splitting up would mean covering more ground, but Shadow was rarely wrong. “We stick together.”
“Smart,” Holt agreed.
We started toward the mouth of the cave but stopped dead when a scream tore through the air.