24
Iris pressed a mimosa into Rowan’s hand a minute after she sat in Ivy’s chair.
“I don’t want this.” Rowan tried to hand it back. She had no interest in alcohol that morning. She was tired enough. Between the house fire two nights ago and Evan’s constant tossing and turning last night, she felt like a zombie.
“It’s orange juice,” said Iris as Ivy expertly draped her salon cape over Rowan, avoiding the drink. “You need the vitamin C and energy.” Ivy patted the seat of the next salon chair, and Thor immediately hopped up and sat, his ears forward. “Good boy,” Ivy said, scratching his chest. For some odd reason he liked to sit in the salon’s chairs, stare at himself in the mirror, and watch the people around him.
“I didn’t sleep well,” Rowan admitted, and took a cautious sip. Iris hadn’t lied; it was orange juice. Rowan shifted in the chair, trying to lean back a bit so there was less pressure on the skin of her torso. She was 99 percent certain all the glass splinters had been removed in the ER, but the healing scratches were tight and annoying.
My sisters must think I’m a hot mess.
The twins had asked Rowan to meet them at their salon to pick up the items they’d purchased the day before for her and Evan. And then refused to let her go until they trimmed her hair. Rowan didn’t see the point of a trim, but at least they hadn’t wanted to do her color. That took hours. A trim should only take a few minutes.
The twins loved to use their beauty skills to make people feel good about themselves. It was also their way to give comfort and support, as people made casseroles or baked to show their compassion. Rowan knew that when the twins worked on her hair, they were showing their love.
The twins owned Dye Hard in downtown Bend. It was stylish with elegant lines and black-and-white decor. Huge mirrors covered the walls, and intricate chandeliers hung from the high ceilings. The only color in the salon was the rich greenery of the long plant wall. And Ivy’s always-present red lipstick.
Ivy’s hair was in an elegant bun on top of her head, her makeup minimal apart from the lipstick. Iris had opted for a Wednesday Addams look, her own long, black hair in braids. Rowan eyed the fun black-and-white-striped stockings, jealous that Iris could pull off the look while Rowan knew she’d look ridiculous in them.
“I’m really sorry about the fire,” said Ivy for the tenth time that day.
Rowan nodded, tired of thinking about it. The twins had bought tons of clothing and necessities and then loaded up the back of Rowan’s SUV that morning. Rowan had stared at the pile of shopping bags and nearly burst into tears. It’d been a heavy weight knowing that she and Evan had so much to replace.
More of her family’s love and support expressed in their second-favorite way: shopping for others.
Rowan’s phone rang. She awkwardly slipped it out of a pocket and brought it out from under the cape. It was Evan’s sister, Bridget. She glanced at Ivy, who was snipping at her ends.
“Go ahead,” said Ivy.
Evan had spoken briefly to his sister about the fire, but Rowan hadn’t talked to her yet. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for a dozen questions. “Hi, Bridget,” Rowan said in greeting.
“Rowan, is Evan with you?” Bridget’s voice was full of panic.
Rowan looked around as if she expected to see him in the salon. “No, he’s working today.”
“Zack is missing,” Bridget said, her words running together. “I’m so sorry, but I don’t know what happened. Charlotte was with him at the barn and thought he’d come back to the house, but we can’t find him.”
Rowan sat up straight and set her juice on the counter, as if emptying her hands would help her hear better. “He’s gone? Are you sure?”
“We’ve been searching for ten minutes. My husband and the kids are still looking,” said Bridget. “I’ve left messages for Evan several times and also called the police.” She started to cry. “We promised to keep Zack safe. He trusted us. Evan trusted us. ”
“Evan must be tied up with something at work,” said Rowan, her brain spinning.
Did the person who grabbed Sophia locate Zack?
Rowan eyed Thor, who watched her with eager eyes and ears. “I’m headed your way. I’ve got Thor with me. He’ll find Zack.” She ended the call and glanced at Ivy, who was already removing the salon cape from her shoulders. She pulled Rowan’s hair back into a high ponytail, deftly creating a more polished look than Rowan ever could.
“What happened to Zack?” asked Iris. Her look of concern matched her twin’s.
“Don’t know,” said Rowan, gathering her bag. “He was at the Kerrs’ ranch one minute and then gone the next.”
“A wild animal?” asked Ivy.
Rowan cringed. She hadn’t considered that. But if he’d been near Charlotte, surely she would have heard something. “I doubt it. He probably wandered off and got lost. It’s what usually happens.” She’d found dozens of kids—and adults—who’d intended to step off a trail for a quick moment only to find themselves utterly lost.
Please let that be the situation.
She hit Evan’s contact on her phone and signaled for Thor to hop down. Evan’s phone promptly went to voicemail. She didn’t bother with a message and shot him a text to call her.
He’s probably in a meeting or doing an interview.
She gave her sisters quick hugs. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us. It means so much.” The twins reluctantly said goodbye, worry in their expressions.
Rowan strode to the door, Thor at her side.
What happened?
Zack seemed like a smart kid. Him getting lost didn’t feel right in Rowan’s gut. But she’d seen the most intelligent people get lost. It happened.
Evan was worried about Zack’s safety.
Rowan hated to think that someone had grabbed the boy. They’d thought no one could connect Zack to the Kerrs’ ranch. It’d been a perfect place to hide him.
Did someone follow us there on Sunday?
She opened her SUV door so Thor could leap in, then slammed the door and got in on the driver’s side. The drive to the Kerrs’ would take about forty-five minutes.
I’ll hear from Evan by then. And most likely Zack will have turned up.
But she pressed heavily on the gas, a sense of dread bubbling under her skin.
Everything will be fine.
Everything wasn’t fine.
Rowan approached the Kerr home and spotted two sheriff’s patrol units parked at the house. She noted neither was a K9 unit, which made sense. The county K9s were primarily trained as tracking and apprehension dogs, not search and rescue dogs. Their purpose was to find and stop suspects—usually with their teeth. In the department they were sometimes called “bitey dogs” and were trained to appear aggressive. Not a great skill when a child was missing. Thor knew to sit and wait for Rowan when he found his quarry. He never barked but often did his soft little “found it” chatter. The last thing a search team wanted to do was scare a missing child.
Or an adult. A few times Rowan had been on a case in which an adult had become confused and then hidden when they heard searchers’ calls. One time Thor had found a missing senior woman with dementia within a hundred yards of the searchers’ starting point. She’d crawled deep inside a fallen, rotted tree trunk, thinking the people calling her name wanted to harm her.
Would Zack believe he needs to hide?
Bridget approached as Rowan changed Thor’s harness to his work one. He knew that when it went on, work was coming. Excitement radiated from him, his tail wagging a rapid beat. He met her gaze.
/go go go/
“Soon,” she told him.
“No luck yet?” Rowan asked, knowing the answer by Bridget’s tears and the stress in her eyes. She noted the woman carried a plastic grocery bag of clothing.
Scent articles for Thor.
“No. The deputies are looking,” said Bridget. “And so are Victor and Theodore. I made Charlotte stay in the house, and she’s not happy about it at all.” She looked at Thor with hopeful eyes. “I’m so glad you two are here.”
Rowan grabbed her backpack out of the rear of her SUV. On a job she always carried supplies for a few unexpected nights in the wild because shit happened. She also had bear spray, a gun, a medical kit, and her GPS. “We’ll find him. Has Zack acted okay since he’s been here? Anything weird?” she asked as she walked with Bridget toward the barn.
“As normal as can be, considering the boy’s mother is still missing,” said Bridget. “He’s eating well. Seems to enjoy being around the other kids and the animals. I know he’s texted Evan a few times asking questions about the investigation.”
Rowan nodded. Evan had mentioned he’d heard from Zack. It had been difficult for him to be honest yet not crush or raise the boy’s hopes. “Where are the deputies?”
“They split up. One went with Theodore into the woods and the other with Victor—he has Molly with him—on our ATVs. But first they insisted on searching the house and all the outbuildings, even though I told them I didn’t believe Zack would hide from us.”
“Standard procedure,” said Rowan. “Missing kids often end up in a hidey-hole close to home if not in the home.” She scanned the ranch. A large part of it was flat open fields that extended far to the east, but to the west it was densely wooded. Far off in a field, she saw two ATVs appear as they came up a gentle rise and then slowly vanish.
Not so flat after all. Easy to hide.
“Here comes Theodore and the deputy,” said Bridget, turning to the woods.
By the slump in the boy’s shoulders, Rowan knew they hadn’t found anything. She recognized the Deschutes County deputy from the Todd Lake trailhead, where Sophia’s car had been found the day before.
Along with Tara Tilson.
Deputy Hartley raised a hand to Rowan and greeted Thor. “No sign of the boy. No tracks of any kind.” He looked at Theodore and raised a brow. “Right?”
Theodore shook his head, meeting Rowan’s gaze. “Nothing.”
She knew Evan’s nephew was an excellent tracker and could find his way anywhere in the local woods. “Okay. Where was Zack last seen?”
“Charlotte said he was taking a load to the poop piles,” said Theodore. “His wheelbarrow and shovel are still over there.”
“The what?” asked Rowan.
“Manure piles,” clarified Bridget. “We compost it and use it as fertilizer.”
“The wheelbarrow is on its side by one pile,” said Deputy Hartley. “Still some manure in it.”
“Zack knows better than to leave it like that,” added Theodore.
Would he run away?
Rowan didn’t know. If he was frustrated that his mom was still missing, he might take off, believing he could help somehow.
“I didn’t find anything around the manure pile,” said Hartley. “We looked for tracks, but nothing was obvious.”
“Let’s start there,” said Rowan. She pointed at the bag in Bridget’s hand. “That’s for Thor?”
“Yes. Some things from his dirty-clothes hamper.”
“Moooom!”
Everyone looked toward the house. Charlotte stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, her little dog, Oreo, at her feet.
“Can I come out now?”
Bridget glanced at the deputy, who looked at Rowan.
“She won’t interfere with our work,” said Rowan, knowing the strong-willed girl liked to be a part of everything. “Keep her with you.”
Bridget gestured for her to join them. “Leave Oreo inside.” Charlotte shooed the dog into the house and sprinted across the gravel.
The five of them made their way past the barn and a second outbuilding before reaching several long, narrow manure piles near the edge of the woods. The wheelbarrow lay on its side by the third pile.
“The manure scents won’t confuse Thor?” asked Bridget.
“No, a dog’s sense of smell is pretty amazing. Once he knows what he’s looking for, he can sift through all other smells and ignore them.”
“Dogs are smart,” said Charlotte. “Oreo knows when I’m upset. He’s like glue, following me everywhere and jumping on my lap until I feel better.”
“Shush,” muttered Theodore.
“Don’t shush me,” Charlotte snapped.
“Kids!” Bridget gave a look , and both went quiet.
“I’ll have you guys wait here for now,” said Rowan when they were about ten yards from the wheelbarrow. She took the bag from Bridget and walked Thor over to the pile. She unhooked his leash and held out the bag. Thor plunged in his nose. “Find it!” The dog spun around and trotted closer to the pile. He did a slow sweep on the south side of the pile, and within seconds his ears quirked and his head jerked. His sign.
That was fast.
He sped up, continuing his gentle sweeps but moving due west, toward the forested part of the property. Thor circled some small pines and then plunged into the woods.
“What’s in this direction?” Rowan asked over her shoulder. She’d followed a few yards behind her dog, giving him space to work. The others did the same but stayed farther back.
“Just more woods. There’s a dirt-and-gravel forest service road about a mile from here in that direction,” said Bridget.
“Did Zack know that?” asked Rowan, stopping to let the others catch up a bit.
Bridget glanced at her kids.
“Zack and I never talked about that,” said Charlotte, wrinkling her nose. “Why would we discuss something as boring as roads?”
“No,” said her brother.
Rowan suspected Theodore’s answer was deliberately short to contrast with his sister’s.
They followed Thor deeper into the woods. A woman spoke on Hartley’s radio, informing him that she and Bridget’s husband, Victor, had not found anything while out on the ATVs and were now back at the house.
“We’re following the search and rescue dog west into the woods,” said Hartley into his mic. “He appears to have scented the boy.” He jogged to catch up with Rowan. “Let me know if you think we need to escalate this,” he said in a low voice.
“Let’s see what Thor finds first,” said Rowan, her GPS in hand, aware of the crisscrossing and circling trails a missing person could create. The subtext of Hartley’s statement had been about whether to notify the FBI. Missing children were a priority for the bureau. “Theodore, have you noticed any tracks?” she asked, her gaze locked on her dog. Thor’s head and tail were up as he moved deliberately; he still had the scent.
“Not yet.”
There should be something.
Zack had clearly come this way. She didn’t think he had any motivation to deliberately try to hide his tracks. They continued to follow Thor, and Rowan checked her phone. No service. “Does anyone have cell service?”
“No,” said Deputy Hartley.
“You won’t get service out here,” said Bridget.
“Wait!” Theodore shouted.
Rowan turned around. The boy had moved to the north of the group to look for tracks or any sign of Zack. Theodore carefully pointed with his foot at something on the ground.
“Thor!” Her dog stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Sit!”
He sat.
Rowan and Hartley joined Theodore. She immediately spotted the footprint.
Could be an old print.
“It’s fresh,” said Theodore, as if hearing her thought. “See how the dirt is darker on the sides of the depression? It’s still damp. Hasn’t dried out yet.” He held his foot above it. “The shoe size is smaller than mine.”
Not an adult.
Rowan pressed her lips together and scanned more of the ground. There was only one print. Theodore and the deputy stepped away, their gazes focused downward.
“I’ve got another,” said Hartley when he was about ten feet from the first print. “It’s smaller, like that first one.” Theodore joined him and squatted to study the ground from a smaller angle.
“There’s a second,” said Theodore, pointing at a nearby depression. The boy swallowed hard. “It’s a lot bigger than the other,” he said quietly.
Rowan crouched down next to Theodore, her gaze following his finger.
He’s right.
She didn’t need Theodore to point out the darker damp dirt at the edge of the print this time. This print was recent, and it appeared the two people had been walking together.
Or Zack was being followed.
“Thor should keep going,” said Rowan as she stood. “These tracks suggest he’s definitely following Zack.”
And Zack is with an adult.
Hartley met her gaze. “You armed?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.”
He thinks this could turn ugly.
She didn’t disagree.
Hartley turned to Bridget. “Take the kids back to the house,” he said. “Lock the door and stay inside.”
Charlotte started to protest, but Bridget firmly placed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, and Charlotte went silent. The mother had paled. She understood what could be ahead.
“I can help,” said Theodore with a stubborn tilt to his chin. “I know these woods.”
“I’m sure you do, son,” said Hartley. “But the dog will find the boy.” He gestured at Bridget to get moving. She took Theodore’s upper arm as he shot a sulky glance at Rowan and the deputy, and then she led both kids away.
Rowan checked her phone again. Still no service.
Texts from Evan will probably pop up once I’m in range.
Hartley touched his mic and asked the other deputy to drive around to the service road that Bridget had mentioned, and then he called for more backup. He looked at Rowan. “Time to escalate?”
She nodded. There was an unknown adult with Zack. “Have them contact the FBI.” She looked over at Thor, who was still patiently sitting. “I don’t know what we’ll find. But I suspect we’ll discover Zack—and possibly someone else—was picked up at that road.”
Is it the same person who has his mother?