Chapter Seven
The sheriff and Doug were waiting when Lily and Scott and the dogs arrived back at the SkyCrest heliport Monday morning. “What have you heard about Jackson?” Lily demanded as soon as she stepped off the helicopter. “Do you know where he is? Is he safe?”
“Mr. Endicott is meeting us at my office,” Doug said, one hand at her back, urging her forward. “We’ll know more then.”
They piled into a resort SUV, Scott and Lily together in the back seat, the dogs sprawled across their laps.
Doug drove, but no one spoke on the short drive to the resort offices.
The SUV’s heater was pumping out warmth, and Lily found herself drifting off, the exertions of the previous day and her uneasy sleep the night before catching up with her.
She woke abruptly when the SUV parked in the underground garage, and followed the sheriff and the others into the elevator to Doug’s office.
Denny Endicott met them at the door. His lip had healed and the bruising around his eye had faded to a sickly yellow and brown, but it was the look of hope on his face that was so painful Lily had to look away.
“We don’t have anything new,” the sheriff said.
Denny turned away, but his hunched shoulders and clenched fists were the image of a man fighting to hold himself together. “Mr. Endicott, do you have the note you received?” Sheriff Howard asked.
“Yes. It’s right here.” Denny reached into the pocket of his flannel shirt and took out a plastic bag and passed it over to the sheriff.
“Did it come to you in this bag?” the sheriff asked.
“No,” Denny said. “The envelope was delivered with the day’s mail. I put everything in the bag after I read it. Maybe I didn’t mess up any other prints too much.”
Sheriff Howard lay the bag on Doug’s desk, then pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves and eased an envelope from the bag.
“No return address,” he said. “Local postmark. We’ll check with the post office, see if anyone remembers when this came through, but it could have been dropped in a postal box anywhere in the area.
” He opened the envelope and removed a single sheet of paper.
“Looks like a page torn from a spiral notebook. Lined paper, three-hole punched, no perforations. The message is hand-printed in block letters. ‘We have Jackson safe. Cooperate and he won’t be hurt.’” He looked up at Endicott.
“What do they mean— cooperate? What do they want you to do?”
“I don’t know,” Endicott said. “I haven’t heard anything before or since.”
“You never had any previous threats to you or your family, or attempts to extort you in any way?” the sheriff asked.
“None.”
“What about that black eye?” the sheriff asked. “Who gave you that?”
Denny touched one finger to his bruised eye.
“I had too much to drink at a client dinner and tripped and fell. It doesn’t have anything to do with Jackson.
” He leaned forward, fingers gripping the back of a chair.
“We’re always security conscious. We have a good alarm system at home, and I’ve taught Jackson not to talk to strangers or to go with anyone he doesn’t know. I don’t understand how this happened.”
“Do you have cameras around your house?” the sheriff asked.
“Yes. More than one.”
“We’re going to want to see all the footage, as far back as you’ve got. The person or persons responsible for Jackson’s kidnapping may have been watching you for a while now.”
Endicott straightened. “I thought he was safe here at the resort,” he said.
“We’ve turned over all our surveillance camera footage to the sheriff’s department as well,” Doug said. “We’re also gathering data on every skier whose ticket was scanned yesterday. Something like this never should have happened.”
“We’ve asked for assistance from the Colorado Bureau of Investigation as well,” the sheriff said. “We’re putting as much manpower as possible on this.”
Endicott turned away from them. For the first time, he noticed Lily and Scott on the sofa. “You two were out searching last night, right?” he asked.
Lily took off the knit cap she had been wearing and stood. “Hi, Denny, it’s me, Lily Alton.”
“Oh, Lily. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.” He swiped a hand over his face. “I’m operating on not much sleep.”
“It’s okay,” she said. His normally full and open face looked thin and drawn, deep lines on either side of his mouth.
Scott rose and came to stand beside her. “We were out searching for Jackson last night,” he said. “We followed ski tracks we thought might be his for a long way. He was by himself, and then he wasn’t.”
“Where did the second set of ski tracks meet up with him?” Doug asked. He walked to a color map of the resort and the surrounding national forest that took up much of one wall of the office.
Scott and Lily moved to the map, along with the sheriff and Endicott. “Right at this second clump of woods.” Scott indicated the spot on the map.
“We found a camp,” Lily said. “Where two people spent the night. There was a fire and a shelter.”
“Where was this camp?” the sheriff asked.
Scott and Lily studied the map. “About here, do you think?” Lily pointed to a location, and looked to Scott for confirmation.
“Yes, I think that’s right.” Scott moved his finger a few inches south and west of the spot she indicated. “We spent the night somewhere in here, I think.”
“You’re sure the camp was recently occupied?” Doug asked.
“Positive,” Scott said. “The fire was still smoking.”
“There was a shelter there, made of branches and a tarp,” Lily said. “I’m sure someone spent the night before last there.”
“There were two indentations in the shelter, like two people slept there,” Scott said.
“Jackson and the kidnapper,” Denny said.
“We don’t know that for sure,” the sheriff said.
“But who else would be out there in a snowstorm?” Denny asked.
“We followed the tracks as far as we could,” Scott said. “Until the snow obliterated them.”
“What’s out there?” Denny asked. “Where would they be headed?”
“That’s all designated wilderness,” Doug said. “There aren’t any roads.” He frowned at the map. “The kidnapper might have arranged for a helicopter to pick them up, but we’re not aware of any flights into the area except our own helicopter.”
“We’ll follow up on that,” the sheriff said.
“Someone could have picked them up in a snowmobile,” Denny said.
“Maybe,” the sheriff said. “But we’ve been flying drones every time the weather clears enough to allow it and we hadn’t seen any tracks.”
“Does that mean they’re still out there?” Endicott asked. “Jackson must be exhausted.”
“They could be heading for Pandora,” Scott said.
“Where’s Pandora?” Denny asked.
“It’s a ghost town on the other side of this ridge of mountains.” The sheriff indicated a jagged ridge near the top of the map. “But you’d have to be crazy to try to make it all the way there on skis, especially with a kid in tow.”
“Crazy or desperate,” Denny said.
“If you received that letter today, wouldn’t it have had to be posted by Saturday or earlier?” Scott asked.
Endicott looked to the sheriff. “I would think so,” he said. “Don’t you, Sheriff?”
“The stamp is canceled,” the sheriff said. “According to the postmark, it was mailed Friday.”
“That’s taking a big risk, isn’t it?” Lily asked. “What if their plan failed and they weren’t able to grab Jackson? What if the weather didn’t cooperate?”
“Or what if the letter was lost?” Scott asked. “Why not just send an email or a text, or make a phone call or hand-deliver a note?”
“The Endicotts’ security may have scared them away from the house,” the sheriff said. “And the kidnapper may not have been tech-savvy enough to send an electronic message without us being able to trace it.”
“If the kidnapping didn’t happen, it would be easy to dismiss the letter as a crank message,” Doug said. “Mr. Endicott might have even thrown it away without reporting it to the sheriff.”
Denny nodded. “I might have.”
“We think it likely there are a group of individuals involved,” the sheriff said. “We’ll get a team to Pandora and see if we can intercept them. We’ll also continue to fly surveillance in the area.”
“What can we do to help?” Scott asked.
“Go home and get some rest,” the sheriff said. “We’ll take it from here.”
“Thank you for your help,” Doug said. “You can go now.”
Reluctantly, Lily followed Scott and the dogs out of the room. She waited until they were in the elevator headed to the ground floor before she spoke. “I notice no one offered us a ride home,” she said.
“I’ll take you,” he said.
He led her to the motorcycle, parked in a back corner of the parking garage.
This time, Shelby didn’t hesitate to hop into the sidecar.
Lily was able to fasten her helmet without help, and the ride to her apartment—in the daylight this time—wasn’t as unnerving.
Scott drove slowly, and she clung to him, as much for the bodily warmth as to steady herself.
The clock tower in the middle of the ski village indicated it was almost noon.
Crowds of skiers convened in the cobblestoned courtyard that fronted many of the restaurants and shops.
People in brightly colored pants and jackets lounged on benches or carried skis and snowboards toward the lifts.
Children laughed and dogs barked. Shelby’s ears were straight up, but she maintained discipline—or maybe she was too frightened to risk leaping from the moving vehicle.
Scott guided the bike between pedestrians and parked cars, and turned onto the main road leading away from the village.
Minutes later, he turned into the apartment complex. “Thanks,” she said again, after he had parked and she had returned his helmet. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Let me know if you hear any news about Jackson,” he said.
“Yeah. You, too.” She waved, then turned and followed Shelby into the building.
She waited inside, out of sight, and listened to the roar of the motorcycle recede as he headed toward his own building.
The complex had an elevator, but it was primarily used for freight.
Lily always used the stairs, considering the climb part of her exercise routine.
Even weary as she was, it didn’t feel right to resort to the elevator, so she started up the stairs.
Shelby bounded up ahead of her, still full of puppy energy.
Inside, she fed and watered the dog first. She debated making tea, but decided on the shower first. The hot water elicited a blissful groan as it sluiced over her.
For the first time in almost two days she began to feel truly warm.
Lavender-scented steam surrounded her, and she fought the urge to lean against the tile wall and fall asleep standing up.
Her intention was to make tea, eat something, then go to bed.
But instead of feeling sleepy, after she ate she had the jangly, electrified feeling of having been awake too long to relax.
Her mind replayed the events of the previous two days like a poorly plotted movie.
Jackson had been so happy when she had spoken to him two days ago.
How could he have just…disappeared? The thought of him in the wilderness somewhere, with a stranger or strangers, cold and frightened and maybe even hurt, tore at her.
She powered up her laptop and searched until she found a map similar to the one on Doug’s office wall.
From what she had seen yesterday and this morning, the wilderness area was rugged, the direct route to anywhere interrupted by dense woods, imposing ridges or deep ravines.
Reaching Pandora would mean a traverse of a pair of rocky mountain ridges full of dangerous obstacles obscured by snow, steep drop-offs, the near-constant threat of avalanches, and bitter winds.
How was a child supposed to survive all of that?
She stared at the map until her vision blurred, and was about to close the screen when another thought occurred to her.
If going over the mountain to reach Pandora was so difficult, was it possible to go around?
She traced a Forest Service road that led from town, skirting the wilderness area and ending a couple of miles before Pandora.
The kidnapper would have to be careful to keep himself and Jackson out of sight, and the journey to get to the road from the place where they had spent the night would require navigating around dense woodlands and uneven terrain.
But that route would also afford more places to hide or seek shelter from the weather.
She punched in the number for the sheriff’s office.
When a woman answered, Lily identified herself, explained that she had been part of the search for Jackson and asked to speak to the sheriff.
The woman transferred the call, but the person who answered wasn’t the sheriff.
“Sheriff Howard is very busy right now,” the man said. “I’ll be sure he gets your message.”
“Who am I speaking to?” she asked.
“I’m one of the deputies. That’s really all you need to know.”
That was not all she needed to know, but weariness was stealing over her once more.
“This is Lily Alton,” she said. “I was with the sheriff earlier today. Tell him that I think instead of traveling over the mountain, Jackson’s kidnapper might try to go around.
It would be safer, and they’d have more places to hide. ”
“That’s an interesting theory,” the deputy said. “But I don’t think you’re right.”
“Just tell the sheriff what I said and let him decide,” she said.
“Thanks for calling,” the deputy said, and hung up.
She stared at the phone, shaking with anger.
She scrolled and found Scott’s number. Wait until he heard about this.
But she hesitated with her finger over the number.
Scott was exhausted. He was probably already asleep.
He wouldn’t welcome her calling and waking him up to complain about a dismissive deputy.
She set down the phone. As much as she wanted to help Jackson, there really wasn’t anything she could do right now. All she could do was rest up and be ready if she was needed. And wait.