31
Noelle opened the door to the task force room and nearly walked into Max. “We just got an ID on one of the sets of skeletal remains,” he told her, elation in his gaze.
“From a dental?” She set down her bag and went to look over Evan’s shoulder at the photo of a woman on his computer screen.
“Yes,” said Max. “She’s Canadian. From Vancouver.”
“A retired Vancouver detective heard about our case and personally reached out, asking us to check a set of dental records against the older victims,” added Evan. “Dr. Harper verified it almost immediately.”
“Which victim was she?”
“The one with the piercings,” said Max. “Her name’s Phoebe Colvin.
She was twenty-eight when she disappeared.
The detective said it’d always bothered him that he couldn’t find her.
He’s going to forward us all his documentation.
Said he interviewed everyone twelve years ago when she disappeared and has done multiple follow-ups since then. ”
“That’ll save us some time,” said Noelle.
“And he wants to do the family notification. Says he knows them very well.”
“He would if he’s been searching for Phoebe for twelve years. Did he offer his gut feeling on the case?” asked Noelle.
“An old boyfriend, even though his alibi was solid.”
“Do we have the boyfriend’s name?”
“We will once we get his reports.”
“At least we can give her family and even the detective some closure,” said Noelle. “Now let’s figure out how she connects to the other victims.” Her phone buzzed with a call from Truman.
“Hey, Truman,” answered Noelle. “You’re on speaker with Max and Evan.”
“Is Ollie with Emma?” asked Truman without greeting her.
Noelle frowned at his odd tone. “I don’t know. I assume they’re together, but I’m not sure where they are. I know Emma hasn’t been home since they left the scene this afternoon.”
“He hasn’t returned my calls, and his phone doesn’t show on our tracker app.
It last registered on the highway near Emma’s old place about the time the kids left.
” Truman’s voice was strained. “The app isn’t perfect.
It needs a data connection to update a location, which I know is spotty in that entire area. ”
Noelle knew Mercy and Truman tracked each other and their kids. They had ever since Mercy had been kidnapped a couple of years back.
Would Emma agree to being tracked?
“When did you last hear from Ollie?” asked Max.
“When I saw him at the recovery today.”
“Kaylie—” started Noelle.
“Doesn’t know where he is. Neither does Mercy.”
Dread started to creep up Noelle’s spine. “Max, call Emma. I had to leave a message earlier.”
“Straight to her voicemail,” said Max after a moment.
“They must be together,” said Noelle. “And in a location where there’s no coverage. But it’s late. I would have expected them back by now.”
“Exactly,” said Truman. “Ollie is as responsible as they come. If he hasn’t checked in, something happened.”
“Maybe a flat tire,” said Evan.
“He’s got a spare and can change a flat,” said Truman. “Engine trouble would be more likely because that truck is so old, but he carries a number of tools and is pretty good when it comes to tinkering with engines. Much better than me.”
“They must be stuck somewhere,” said Noelle. She glanced out the window. It was pitch-black. “But honestly there’s no one I’d rather have her be stuck with than Ollie. I know he’ll take care of her.”
Then why am I anxious?
“Agreed,” said Truman. But he still sounded worried.
“I’ll send out a BOLO on his truck to all our patrols, the Bend city police, and state,” said Evan, tapping on his computer. “The kids will turn up. At least the temperatures are warm if they’re stuck somewhere overnight.”
Noelle stepped closer to Max. “Any ideas?”
“For all we know they could be at the stable. Coverage is iffy back there.”
“We would have received a security alert when they went through the gate.”
He winced. “Right. Didn’t Emma mention seeing another movie? Would they turn off their phones in the theater?”
“Ollie wouldn’t,” said Truman. “We have rules. Phones stay on to keep the tracker active.”
“How about checking some of the local trailheads?” asked Noelle. “Maybe they broke down in the parking lot. What’s his favorite place to hike, Truman?”
“All of them,” he said grimly. “The more remote, the better. But it’s June. Tourists and hikers are out in force everywhere. Ollie would have sent out a message with someone if they’d had problems.”
“Dammit.” Noelle was stumped. “Let’s get some drive-bys of the trailheads anyway.”
Noelle tried not to think about the terrifying hell that Emma had gone through when she was kidnapped two months ago.
This isn’t the same. She’s got Ollie with her. They’ll turn up.
“They’ll turn up,” she said aloud, in an unsuccessful attempt to calm her own nerves.
“I need to make some more calls,” said Truman. “Keep me updated.”
“Will do,” said Noelle. She ended the call and exchanged looks with Max and Evan. “He’s worried.”
“His family has been through some shit,” said Evan. “Ollie’s a good kid, but somehow, he manages to land in the middle of a lot of . . . trouble isn’t the right word. I guess situations would be more accurate. But he’s very capable of handling himself.”
“That’s my impression too,” said Noelle. “So do we go look for them?” she asked.
“I don’t think so,” Max said slowly. “Patrols will cover a lot more ground than we can. Us driving around in the dark won’t do much good unless there’s a specific place you want to go check.”
“I can’t think of one,” admitted Noelle. “But it feels wrong to do nothing.”
“They’re adults,” said Evan. “We have other things needing our attention.”
Translation: Belle Beason.
A deputy stuck his head in the door. “Hey, Detectives, we’ve got an issue out front. Bunch of people have gathered. They want answers about Belle Beason. They must have contacted the press too because there’re a few reporters and cameras.”
“Shit,” Evan said distinctly.
“I think the leader of the group is her dad,” added the deputy. “Not positive, though.”
“Trey Beason?” asked Noelle. She looked to Max. “When’s the last time he got an update?”
“I emailed him last night after our meeting. Told him the Playground Posse had all checked out. I didn’t specifically mention the sightings in Prineville or the doll in the reservoir. I just said we’d crossed off some solid-sounding leads and were following up on others.”
“If Trey’s out front, it’s because he feels he’s not in the loop,” said Evan. “Let’s bring him inside, separate him from the group.”
“I’ll go,” said Noelle.
“No, it should be me,” said Max. “An FBI presence will carry more weight with a group.” He glanced at her. “No offense.”
“None taken,” said Noelle. “You’re absolutely right. If someone is going to end up on the news speaking about Belle, it should be the FBI. Let’s go.”
The three of them went out the rear entrance to the secure department parking lot.
They followed Evan through a locked gate and came around to the front of the building but stayed to the side of the small crowd that had gathered.
There were maybe thirty people holding candles and signs in front of the main building, keeping a respectful distance.
Most of the signs had Belle’s photo, and Noelle’s stomach churned at the sight of the innocent girl.
She recognized two television reporters, their cameramen nearby, already filming the crowd.
“There’s Trey,” she said, spotting him at the front of the group.
His hands were shoved in his pockets, no candle or sign.
Even at a distance, Noelle could tell he’d lost weight; his face was thin.
Lines around his mouth that hadn’t been there before.
An older woman had tucked her arm through his, a candle in her other hand.
Her cheeks were wet. “His parents are with him.”
The crowd was eerily quiet, simply holding their candles and signs, staring at the main entrance, waiting for acknowledgment from law enforcement.
“I’ll go to him,” said Max. He worked his way unobtrusively through the crowd until he reached Trey and touched his arm. Trey flinched, startled at Max’s sudden appearance. “Mr. Beason,” Max said, his words clear over the silence of the group. “Let’s talk inside.”
“No!” shouted a young woman holding an image of Belle above her head. “Don’t go in, Trey! He can talk to all of us.”
“Are you a relative?” Max asked her.
“No. I’m a close friend. Who are you?”
Max scanned the crowd, making eye contact with a few of them. “I’m Agent Max Rhodes with the FBI, and I’m working on Belle Beason’s disappearance.” He held the gazes of several other members of the crowd. “Trey, let’s go in.”
Trey indicated the woman and man next to him. “I’d like my parents to come too.”
“For now, I just want to talk with you,” said Max. “Maybe after.”
“Why haven’t you found Belle?” shouted a young man in a Trail Blazers cap who was holding a candle.
“It’s not for the lack of looking,” Max said calmly. “We’ve got more than a hundred people working behind the scenes to find her. FBI, county, city, and state law enforcement. And the NCMEC is hard at work getting the word out and taking tips from the public.”
Murmurs went through the group. People shuffled their feet, exchanging furtive glances.
“You’re fumbling this investigation! Absolutely nothing is happening,” said the same man. “I heard you let a couple of kidnappers who had Belle get away. You didn’t get to the hotel until days after they’d been there.”
The crowd’s murmuring increased.
“And someone reported what turned out to be a doll in a lake!” said the woman who’d spoken earlier. “Is that the type of lead you’re wasting time on?”
The voices grew louder, and a few people stepped closer to Max.
Alarm bells rang in Noelle’s head, making her touch Evan’s arm. “Steady,” he said. “I’ve got other eyes on them.”
She realized that a few deputies had appeared outside the crowd, their gazes sharp, their stances deceptively casual.
We’ve got to keep the crowd calm.