Chapter 3 #2
Sebastian stared down at the flyer in his hand.
Michelle Eastman had been a pretty brunette.
Glenn Eastman looked serious and no-nonsense.
The kid had that classic blue-eyed, blond kid-next-door look about her.
A knot twisted in his gut at the thought of what that child might be going through, but he pushed the sensation away.
He knew what parents could do to their kids. As a former cop in Kansas City, he’d seen it all. As a kid, he’d experienced more than his fair share.
None of that helped him do his job right now, which was to get Summer back unharmed.
“We found a partially burned map in the grate of his home that showed the US/Mexican border.”
The crowd shifted slightly.
Sebastian didn’t buy it. They were less than sixty miles from Canada. If Eastman were going to run, he might already be there.
The sheriff checked his watch. “We’ve managed to keep it out of the news so far but plan to canvas the public for leads via local radio, social media, and even a segment on the local news later this morning.
The FBI helped us set up a tip line at our office in Stone Creek and informed border authorities—US, Canadian, Mexican—and issued a state-wide Amber Alert for all the neighboring states. ”
And, in the meantime, HRT was supposed to sit around doing nothing?
Come on.
“What do we know about this guy? Family? Friends he might stay with? Cabins he might visit? Areas he’s familiar with?” asked Charlotte Blood.
“Everything points to him being a loner. He has a sister in California, but she says she hasn’t seen him since he got married ten years ago.”
“We’ll have agents watch the sister in case he makes contact. She might not be telling the truth.” Charlotte looked at her negotiator partner, Eban Winters, who was already on the phone.
“Does he have wilderness experience?” asked Sebastian.
The sheriff nodded. “He’s a backcountry guide and spent more than a decade in the Army.”
Great.
“What’s to stop him heading into the wilds and crossing the border into Canada at an unguarded location?”
“Nothing except the terrain and the weather. Most of the routes are still impassable, but if he knows what he’s doing, he could wait for the snow to melt and then cross,” Ranger Deacon answered when the sheriff looked in her direction.
“Or he could drive to either side of the Rockies and find an unguarded section to cross. RCMP have presumably been alerted?”
“They have.”
“What’s your plan of action?” Novak asked the sheriff politely, although it was clear the guy needed the FBI’s resources on this one.
The sheriff looked a little lost and overwhelmed by the task. “First and foremost, we search for his truck until we have a solid sighting.” He scratched the back of his head. “We are looking for a white male driving a burgundy truck accompanied by a girl and a medium-sized brown dog.”
“Dog?” Deacon queried sharply.
“He has a mongrel called Trapper. Dog wasn’t at the house when police searched it. According to his neighbors, the dog went everywhere with Eastman.”
Deacon strode over to the map. And pointed at a road. “I came off a hike yesterday afternoon. Around four-fifteen p.m. I heard a dog on the trail and then spotted the footprints of an adult, child, and small- to mid-sized dog.”
“You saw them?” Sebastian’s pulse punched harder for a single beat.
“No.” She pinched her lips together as if uncertain. “The hikers were out of sight when we rejoined the loop.” Her finger curved on a lower part of the mountain. “I thought it odd there weren’t any other vehicles in the parking lot.”
“You think it might be Eastman?” He couldn’t help how dubious he sounded.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Do we have a scent article for the girl?” She aimed her question to another SAR person.
The guy gave him a cool look as he approached. “Yeah. I have several shoes and a couple items of dirty laundry in Ziplocks in the SUV. Suspect and the kid.”
Deacon straightened. “I’ll take Chance and go out there.”
Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest. “We don’t take chances here, Ranger Deacon.”
The guy snorted a laugh as Ranger Deacon glared. “Chance is the name of my dog.”
Oh, shit.
Now he felt like an idiot.
“It won’t take long. It’s about ten miles north of here, one of the backcountry hikes. Not one you’ll find in the usual guidebooks. I’ll do a hasty search and be back here or meet up wherever I’m deployed. At least we can knock it off the list.” She backed away.
“Assuming your canine can reliably identify the scent.”
Those violet eyes hardened. “My dog has a sense of smell estimated to be up to one hundred thousand times more acute than yours or mine. He is an excellent search dog, but none of them are infallible, and time matters. I’ll see if Chance alerts and report back.
We’d at least have either a starting point or somewhere we can cross off our list.”
Sebastian caught Novak’s look and the almost imperceptible nod in the woman’s direction.
Great. He rolled his shoulders. “I’ll join you.”
She shook her head. “I’ll take a SAR assistant. They’ll know what to do.”
Ouch.
He gave a tight smile. “And if you’re confronted by the fugitive?”
She pulled back her jacket to reveal her side arm. “Then I’ll deal with the situation.”
“You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’m always alone,” she snapped.
“Look, I wasn’t asking for permission.” Impatience leaked out. They didn’t have time for this territorial bullshit.
She narrowed her gaze and stared at him a second longer than was comfortable. As if she wasn’t sure she could trust him. Finally, she spoke. “Fine.”
“Uh-oh. We all know what ‘fine’ means.” Ryan’s stage whisper could be heard all around the barn.
Ranger Deacon flushed.
Sebastian ignored his teammate. “It’ll give me a chance to get a feel for the area.”
“You won’t get a ‘feel for the area’ until the sun rises.” She relented enough to start moving, and he followed her.
Cas Demarco joined them at the door, and the ranger looked spooked for a second.
“Want me to come with you?” asked the male SAR volunteer who’d been talking to her earlier.
She shook her head emphatically. “They’ll need you here, Max.”
Max squeezed the ranger’s arm in a proprietary gesture. “Keep me updated.”
She frowned then stepped away. “It might have been a coyote.”
The man opened his mouth to say something, but Sebastian cut him off. Enough chitchat already.
“Whatever it was, let’s go figure it out.” Sebastian pushed open the door for Cas and the ranger. He narrowed his eyes at Max, who was glaring at him like he had a personal grudge.
What did he think? That Sebastian was going to hit on his girlfriend? This was an op, not a speed-dating event. It took everything in him to nod professionally and not roll his eyes.
Nora kept one eye on the winding road with its treacherous curves illuminated by her full beams and the other on the big black Suburban in the rear-view. With her luck, she’d crash into a tree and prove to the man following that she was as incompetent as he obviously believed.
She didn’t know why the FBI Operators had insisted on accompanying her for what would probably be an hour of nothing. The thought of what Summer Eastman might be going through overrode all her personal concerns. She had to assume the child was still alive, even though worry gnawed on her nerves.
She shoved that worry aside. This was a parental abduction, not that of a stranger with malign intent. Didn’t mean the girl was out of danger, but Nora hoped her father would take care of his child even if he viewed her only as a possession.
She’d met that kind before and knew plenty of cases where the dad killed everyone in the family rather than lose control of their fates.
But why risk the delay of several hours to pick Summer up from school when he could have crossed the border before anyone had even discovered the bodies of his alleged victims?
It gave her a slender thread of hope that perhaps he genuinely loved his daughter and they could get her back safely, although what Summer’s world would look like when she discovered her father had murdered her mother, Nora didn’t know. She had no reference point for that part of this crime.
If Glenn was as experienced outdoors as suggested, he’d have a plan. A goal. They just had to figure out what that goal was.
The two-car convoy arrived at the small parking area, and she quickly pulled into the spot near the entrance.
She knew the drill. She might not have jurisdiction, but she had local knowledge and was an active member of law enforcement.
She didn’t want to taint any evidence if this turned out to be a crime scene.
She also needed to give Chance every opportunity to get this right and maybe prove a point to the big oaf in black fatigues.
Even if Chance didn’t alert, that was still a result, and she could put it out of her mind.
But the FBI might not see it that way.
She did not appreciate people doubting her dog or the abilities of her fellow K9 SAR teams. They helped more people than the mighty FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team ever did, and they did it without fanfare or expectation or the need for glory.
The Suburban pulled up a few feet beside her.
The two operators got out. Both tall, dark, and unfortunately handsome. They waited expectantly. One guy, who looked like he could be Pedro Pascal’s younger brother, sent her a friendly smile, but the other, Sebastian Black, stared at her with a stern, suspicious expression.
He unsettled her with a dark gaze that was too direct, too probing.
Ass.
She pushed out of her car. Tired. Grumpy, she acknowledged.
She’d been up all night rescuing an elderly dementia patient who’d left his house when his wife had been in the bathroom.
They’d found him miles from home after a tip off from the public, and she was grateful he’d remembered to wear his winter coat and boots and had all his fingers and toes when they’d finally tracked him down, lost, upset, and slumped in a doorway.