Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MADIGAN
The riverside car park was jammed full of search and rescue vehicles and the various organisations that supported them.
We headed for the biggest, busiest tent and gave our names to the constable at the entrance.
The search coordinator—Glen something-or-other—had clearly been briefed about our arrival and sized us up with narrow-eyed scrutiny when the constable walked us over and provided our names.
“Don’t make me regret this.” He handed Nick a map with a whole lot of circles drawn. “If it was up to me, you two would still be sitting on your arses back at the townhouse. I don’t need the drama, and I don’t need anyone going off half-cocked thinking they can do this better than we can.”
Nick’s bewildered expression in the face of the man’s indictment almost made me laugh. Damn, he was good. “I have no idea what you me—”
“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Glen scoffed. “My brother is a detective based out of Albany, north of Auckland. I know more about you two than you think.”
Oops.
Nick’s cheeks pinked and you could’ve cut the air with a knife.
Glen’s eyes narrowed. “Precisely. Now, just so we’re clear, I’ve led more missing person searches than you’ve had hot dinners.
” He drilled Nick with a hard stare. “So, listen up. Don’t get in our way.
Don’t mess with the dogs. And don’t touch any item of interest before you call it in.
There’s one more thing. I understand you two don’t know the area, so a word to the wise.
Stick to the paths. If you get yourselves lost, don’t expect us to come looking.
We’ve got better things to do today. Got it? ”
Nick’s nod was surprisingly meek. “Got it. We just want to help. It’s my mother you’re looking for.”
I blinked. It wasn’t the first time Nick had called Chloe his mother, but not in public in this way.
Glen’s eyebrows did a funny dance that seemed oddly menacing.
“Your mother? Is that so?” He gave a thoughtful hum.
“I guess Jono forgot to mention that part.” His expression softened.
“All right then. Be careful. You can’t see for shit down there in all this fog so watch your feet.
We’ve got most of the grid covered, so you can pretty much take your pick of where to start, although upriver would be good. ”
I frowned. “Why upriver?”
Glen shrugged. “I’ve been doing this a long time. Long enough to know not to ignore my gut. And today my gut says go upriver, young man.”
My gaze rose to the invisible hills where temperatures were still sub-zero, according to the met office. “Not exactly the best news.”
Glen grimaced. “I know and I’m not saying I’m right. It’s just a—”
“Gut feeling,” Nick finished for him. “Yeah, we get it. We’ll head upriver.”
Glen nodded. “Good. Put this in your pocket and call if you find anything.” He passed Nick a card filled with names and phone numbers. “And good luck.” He held Nick’s gaze and put a hand on his shoulder. “We need to find your mother soon, understand?”
Nick drew a shaky breath. “Understood.”
We left the tent and headed down the path leading from the car park to the river walk itself.
We skirted the roped-off section where instinct told me Chloe’s cardigan had been found.
A couple of police officers were on their hands and knees searching the muddy ground and wet grass inside the cordon.
As we descended toward the river, a dense mist eddied above the surface, its thick fingers spreading across the parkland either side. I shivered and zipped my jacket high against the bitter wind tunnelling through the valley.
“I’m not liking her chances in this,” Nick commented, zipping his own jacket to the chin.
I didn’t need to say anything. We both knew he was right.
All we could do is hope that Chloe’s unsteadiness had kept her from venturing too far.
That said, it was hard to see her managing even this relatively flat part of the trail.
The concrete path was slick with rain, slimy with duck shit, and poorly lit if she’d been here at night.
How she could’ve found her way along it in the dark boggled belief, and I was all out of boggling.
The whole disappearance thing stank like three-day-old fish, but there was nothing concrete to back any of our suspicions.
We walked almost in silence, tension pouring off Nick’s body in continual waves.
Worry lines furrowed his brow, his teeth working the inside of his cheek until it had to be raw and aching.
I’d given up trying to get anything out of him other than grunts and a single comment to be quiet so that he could better hear any shouts for help.
After almost an hour I’d had enough. “Talk to me.” I spoke the words to Nick’s back.
“Nothing to say,” he answered without looking, his eyes continuing to scan ahead. “I just want to find her.”
I tugged at his sleeve. “It wasn’t a question. What are you thinking?”
He sighed and moved over, giving me room to walk beside him. “I’m thinking that maybe I’ve gone off the deep end. That maybe Austin isn’t involved in this at all? That maybe Chloe has simply wandered off like he claims? That maybe he isn’t fiddling her accounts.”
I didn’t even need to think about it. “Jesus, Nick. Absolutely not. Austin might not be as big a jerk as we think he is, but I smell a rat as much as you do. Something doesn’t sit right about this whole thing.
We appear from nowhere to threaten Austin’s hold on Chloe, and then she just disappears.
It’s a little too . . . convenient, don’t you think? ”
Nick stopped and spun to look at me, his grey eyes boring into mine. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I think. Although we can’t be sure he knew about the power of attorney thing, he seemed genuinely shocked by that, and the fact we had the account statements as well.”
I was cautious in my answer. “True. And we don’t know Chloe very well yet, especially how the Parkinson’s is affecting her life.”
“I know.” Nick pursed his lips and started walking again.
I kept pace, wondering what the hell we were doing. When the path switched to gravel about a kilometre in and the lighting almost disappeared, the idea of an elderly woman successfully negotiating that in the dark became even more ludicrous.
“Nick, stop.” I waited while he turned to face me. “I just don’t believe Chloe could have possibly made it this far. Not in the dark. Even in broad daylight and good weather, it would be difficult for a seventy-three-year-old woman unstable on her feet.”
“But her cardigan . . .” Nick trailed off, coming to a stop, frustration marking his face. “People do the unexpected all the time. Especially in circumstances like this. Adrenaline and all that. We can’t presume anything.”
I took his hands and looked him in the eye.
“Hear me out. I’m not saying we presume she didn’t.
But you saw the numbers of people and dogs searching.
You can hear them. They’ve got things well under control regarding the river trail.
” I opened my hands and looked around. “Do you really think we’re adding value here? ”
Nick eyed me critically. “So, what are you suggesting?”
An excellent question. I took a breath. “Neither of us is convinced that this happened like Austin said, right?”
Nick waited, then nodded.
“So then why are we here?” I hoped I wasn’t pushing too hard.
“If Chloe didn’t just wander off, then what did happen?
What are the alternatives? What if the cardigan was left there to throw the search off?
What are the possibilities that no one else is considering?
Because that’s where we should put our energy and leave all this to the people who can do it best.”
I watched as the confusion cleared from Nick’s eyes. “Fuck. You’re right. We bought into the search even though we don’t think it fits.”
“But it could fit,” I warned him. “And we need to acknowledge that. We might be wrong. It might be exactly as Austin said. But if so, they’ve got it covered. There’s no need for us to follow the same pattern.”
Nick searched my face for something, his weary eyes suddenly bright with intent. “You really think Austin had something to do with Chloe’s disappearance?”
I raised a brow. “Don’t you? You’ve done all but voice the actual words to Wright.”
Nick winced. “And look where that got me. Austin’s answer to the account questions was almost believable. He’s convinced Belinda. And Wright too, I’m sure of it. He almost had me doubting myself.”
“Almost,” I repeated the word back to him. “But in the end, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. This is your mother, Nick. It only matters what you think. What your gut tells you. I’d trust that over Austin fucking Pattinson’s words or Detective Wright’s instincts any day of the week.”
Nick stared at me for a long moment. Then he grabbed me by the shoulders and planted a fierce kiss on my lips, pulling me up on my toes and crushing me against his chest. “God, I love you,” he said roughly, his fingers tangling in my hair, tight enough to sting and bring tears to my eyes.
“Thank you. Now let’s get out of here.” He grabbed my hand and began pulling me back along the path at a snappy jog.
“Where are we going?” I struggled to keep up.
“Austin and Belinda are at Chloe’s townhouse with the police keeping an eye on them, right?”
“Right,” I panted, tripping over my own feet and needing Nick to stop me falling to the gravel.
“Which means, my little buttercup, that their house is clear.” He sounded more than a little pleased with himself.
“Oooooh.” I couldn’t help but grin. “A little off-the-books snoopery before lunch. You have the best ideas.”