Chapter Four
The Monday after Roxanne’s accident, Dalton sat on his sofa, researching William Ledger, the man Roxanne thought had run her off the road.
He read through the Wikipedia entry twice, a pain in the pit of his stomach and anger tightening his chest. How did Roxanne know a man like William Ledger?
Was she Alice? Or Mary? How had such a horrible thing happened to her?
He closed the screen and sat back. No wonder Roxanne had been so upset, if she thought her former kidnapper was the man who had run her off the road. But that couldn’t be right, could it? The article said William Ledger had been sentenced to prison for life.
He leaned forward and began searching further, but could find nothing more about William Ledger. Maybe he could have dug deeper and eventually found what he wanted, but he had a faster way of getting information. He pulled out his phone and punched in a number.
“I’m working, Dalton. What do you want?” His oldest brother picked up, his voice clipped and no-nonsense, but that was Aaron every day of the week.
“Do you know who William Ledger is?” Dalton asked.
A pause, then Aaron’s tone was sharper. “Why are you asking about him?”
“I was first on the scene at Roxanne Byrne’s accident yesterday,” Dalton said. “I heard her say she thought the person who ran her off the road might have been William Ledger. I just finished reading the Wikipedia entry about him.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“Because you’re a sheriff’s deputy and you can tell me how a man who was sentenced to life in prison could possibly be running around free.”
Aaron blew out a breath. “Ledger was paroled two weeks ago. But you didn’t hear that from me. We don’t want word to get out that we’re looking for him.”
“How is that possible? I read what he did to those girls.” The article had been mercifully short on details, but Dalton could imagine, and anything he thought of probably wasn’t as bad as what had really happened.
“His attorney appealed and his sentence was lowered due to some legal technicality and he was credited for time served and released,” Aaron said.
“So it could have been him who went after Roxanne?”
“Doubtful. He was in prison in Texas. Roxanne is here. She’s changed her name and kept a low profile.”
Dalton swallowed. He didn’t want to ask, but he wanted to know. “Was she one of the girls he kidnapped—Alice or Mary?”
“If you want to know that, you should ask her.”
“I’m asking you. Was she?”
Another sigh. “She was. Her lawyers and the court did a good job of keeping the girls’ real names out of the press and Roxanne has never done an interview about it. I don’t know how Ledger would have found her.”
“But what if he did find her?” Dalton asked. “What does he want with her?”
“Who knows what a person like that is thinking? Look—don’t go telling this to anyone. Not only is it nobody’s business, but the more people who know Roxanne’s story, the more danger she might be in.”
“What kind of jerk do you take me for?”
“You’re not a jerk. It’s just a touchy situation. I only told you because you’re the only person other than Roxanne who saw the guy. We don’t know how he feels about that, so watch your back.”
Dalton swallowed. It hadn’t crossed his mind that he might be in danger.
“I read your statement, but is there anything about this guy you left out?” Aaron asked.
“No.” He closed his eyes, trying to replay those few minutes by the side of the road. “He was yanking on the door pretty hard. I thought it was because he was in a hurry to get the driver out of the car.”
“Maybe he was,” Aaron said. “But not necessarily for a good reason. That is, if it even was Ledger. Has the sheriff contacted you yet?”
“No.”
“He wants you to come by the office and look at some photos. See if you recognize the man.”
“Sure. I can do that. I have a tour this afternoon.”
“Let Carter or Dad do it. This is more important.”
“What am I supposed to tell Mom?” Dalton asked. “She’ll freak if I tell her I have to be at the sheriff’s office.”
“Tell her it’s search and rescue business.”
“Bethany and Carter are with SAR, too.”
“I’ll call her and tell her I need your help with something,” Aaron said. “Official business.”
“That will make her even more curious.”
“You know how to evade Mom’s and Dad’s questions by now. Just get over here.”
“All right.”
Instead of phoning his parents, Dalton called Clayton Kinneson, a retiree who filled in giving tours during their busiest season. “Clayton, can you take my one o’clock tour today?” he asked. “Something came up.”
“Sure, I can do that,” Clayton said. “Is everything all right?”
“It’s fine. I just had an appointment I forgot about. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’m always happy for the extra money.”
That difficulty handled, Dalton drove to the sheriff’s department. As he turned into the alley leading to the parking lot, he passed a white sedan. The woman behind the wheel looked like Roxanne, but she didn’t see him wave. He parked and went inside.
An older woman with short, spiky hair, red-framed glasses and dangling earrings greeted him. “You must be Dalton,” she said. “All of you Ames brothers are like peas in a pod.”
“You really think so?” he asked. He and Carter might be identical, but Aaron definitely took after their father.
“You all have that same look in your eyes,” she said. “Like you’re plotting something.”
“Dalton isn’t plotting anything.” Aaron spoke from a doorway to their left. He motioned to Dalton. “Come on back.”
He followed Aaron to a small, gray room.
Before Dalton had a chance to take a seat at the table there, the sheriff entered.
Sheriff Travis Walker was tall and lean, with dark hair and chiseled features.
He had a reputation for being firm but fair.
“Hello, Dalton,” he said and shook Dalton’s hand. “Thanks for coming in. Have a seat.”
Dalton sat, and the sheriff opened the file folder he had been carrying.
“We’re recording this,” he said, and nodded to the overhead camera.
He recited the date and time and the names of everyone present, then turned his attention back to Dalton.
“I’m going to lay out a group of photographs.
I want you to look at them all carefully and decide if any of them are the man you saw beside Roxanne Byrne’s car yesterday.
The suspect we’re looking for may or may not be in this group of photos, so don’t feel like you have to select one of them.
Only tell us if you’re sure the man you saw is one of the faces I’m going to show you. Do you have any questions?”
“No, sir.” Dalton wiped his hands on the thighs of his jeans, suddenly nervous.
Travis laid out six black-and-white photos on the table. Dalton leaned forward and studied each of them. He had expected to feel something if he recognized the man he had seen yesterday—some zing of recognition. Instead, he felt nothing.
“Do you see the man?” Aaron asked after a moment.
Dalton sat back and shook his head. “I don’t recognize any of them. I only saw his face for a few seconds. He was wearing a hat. And he had a mustache.” The men in the photos were all clean-shaven. Still, he ought to be able to recognize him, shouldn’t he?
Travis gave no indication that he was disappointed. He began gathering up the photos. “Thank you for coming in,” he said again.
“Was William Ledger’s photo one of those?” Dalton asked. “Does that mean I didn’t see him?”
“He might have been wearing a disguise,” Aaron said. “Or Roxanne could have been attacked by someone else.”
“Do you remember any part of the license plate number of the vehicle?” Travis asked. “Or anything else about the vehicle?”
“No. It was just a big pickup truck with after-market welded bumpers.”
“We’re looking for trucks like that with any front-end damage, but it’s possible with a bumper like that there isn’t any,” Aaron said.
“I wish I remembered more,” Dalton said. “But I was focused on the accident. I thought this guy was just a bystander trying to help.”
“Come on,” Aaron said. “I’ll walk you out.”
They headed back down the hallway. “Does Roxanne know Ledger is out of prison?” Dalton asked.
“We told her this morning.”
“How did she take it?”
“She was pretty upset.” Aaron stopped at the door leading to the lobby. “Why are you so interested in Roxanne?” he asked. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”
“We don’t. May Delgado introduced us at the fair Saturday morning, then I was first on scene at the accident Saturday afternoon.”
“You were the one who made the 911 call,” Aaron said. “How did that happen?”
“I was driving in that area and saw the wreck.”
“What were you doing out on County Road 3?”
Dalton scowled. “Do they teach you how to grill people at the law enforcement academy?”
“Just answer the question.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I was looking for Roxanne. I’d heard she lived in one of those tiny houses and thought I’d look her up, maybe ask her out.”
Aaron grinned. “I’m betting that’s a first.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You’re not exactly a Don Juan. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. This woman must have really got to you.”
“Yeah, well, now this has happened and she’s here in a place where she knows hardly anyone. I feel for her.”
Aaron put a hand on his shoulder. “She could probably use a friend. Just . . .go slow. She’s been through a lot.”
He shook off his brother’s hand. “Just because I’m not dating every woman I see doesn’t mean I don’t know how to behave.”
“Still, I think Roxanne is a special case,” Aaron said. But he relented and opened the door.