43
Max eyed the small woman sitting across the table from him. Her resemblance to Emma was uncanny. They were the same size, tilted their heads the same way as they listened, and each had a pale-green gaze.
Drew Mims put her through hell ten years ago.
But were there really enough reasons to not contact Emma?
Crystal said she knew what Emma had suffered through two months ago but even then had done nothing to reach out to her daughter.
Emma’s suffering again.
It was unfathomable to him that the young woman had crossed paths with another predator who’d decided he had the right to fuck with her life.
We saved her the first time.
They must do it again.
But first they needed the location.
Noelle had called her lieutenant, explained what Crystal had told them about Drew Mims, and requested Deschutes County SWAT be on standby for when they found Emma’s location.
He’d called back within minutes, having received the go-ahead from the sheriff, and said that SWAT members had been put on alert.
We’ll find the place.
Crystal was studying the computer screens that Ben and Eagle’s Nest officer Royce Gibson had brought in.
Together the three of them were viewing satellite images and maps of the area where Crystal believed she’d been held.
The primary problems were that it’d been ten years ago and she’d escaped in the dark.
“I was picked up along this highway,” she said, drawing her finger along it on the map. “I think right around here.”
“Who picked you up?” asked Noelle.
“A trucker. After I’d spent two nights in the woods desperately trying to find a road and terrified that I’d run into Drew behind every tree.
I didn’t have any water. Just some crusts for food.
My wrists and hands were raw because I spent hours working to get those ropes off them.
Good thing it was summer, so the nights weren’t freezing. ”
“You thumbed a ride?” asked Max.
“I watched the road for quite a while. I only came out if I spotted a semi heading east. I knew Drew wouldn’t be driving a semi, and there was no way in hell I was going back to town.
” She looked at Noelle. “I know hitchhiking was a stupid decision and wasn’t safe, but look at what I’d just escaped from. Anything was better than that.”
She has a point.
“The trucker didn’t think it was odd to find you in the middle of nowhere?” asked Royce.
“I told him I’d had a fight with my boyfriend, who dumped me there.
” A sad and pleading expression filled Crystal’s face.
“He pushed me out of the car because we had a fight,” she said breathlessly, making tears form.
“Now I’m stuck here, and I’m not sure where I am.
” Her lower lip quivered. “Can you just take me to the next town?”
Her face cleared, and she shrugged. “Not hard to convince people you need help.”
Royce and Ben stared at her in astonishment.
She’s good. Now I wonder if we should believe anything she says.
Noelle’s blank expression told him she was pondering the same.
“Anyway,” Crystal continued, returning to the satellite images. “I told you I’d been studying these myself, and I think this is the place.” She indicated the roof of a small rectangular building surrounded by acres and acres of pines.
Ben leaned closer. “That can’t be right. That’s the Parker place. Two of them still live in it.”
Royce nodded. “I was called out there two weeks ago.”
“How long have they lived there?” asked Crystal. “Was it empty ten years ago?”
Ben rubbed his chin. “Dave’s got to be in his fifties, and I’m pretty sure he’s lived there since high school.”
“Ben knows everyone,” Royce told Crystal.
“Two people live there?” asked Crystal. “The place was only a single room with a few bunks. Not very big. There was a fireplace, and its thick walls were solid rock about three-quarters of the way up. Heavy and wide wood-plank floors. No windows. It was very solid and really old.”
“Definitely not the Parker place,” said Ben. “It’s at least three good-sized rooms. What else do you remember?”
“It really didn’t have a road leading to it at that time. It was simply ruts through the forest. There was a covered front porch that ran the length of the building.”
“Doesn’t sound like any of our locals,” said Royce. “Maybe it was an old forester’s cabin?”
“He said his grandfather helped build it,” said Crystal. “And that it was so old, no one bothered with it anymore.”
Ben frowned. “Maybe an old CCC place? They’d use rock like that for walls.”
“That was it!” said Crystal. “Now I remember he talked about that.”
“The Civilian Conservation Corps?” asked Noelle. “What did they build in this area?”
“Small schools, fire lookouts, and some buildings for storing firefighting equipment or housing the workers,” said Ben. “I know there’s some still around.”
“Look online,” said Max. “There’s got to be a list of what they built around here. Maybe even a map if we’re lucky.” Royce pulled a laptop toward him and started to search.
“He had a lot of pride in a building that was essentially just four plain walls,” said Crystal, shaking her head. “I didn’t get it. There was nothing to be proud of. It had a fucking outhouse, for God’s sake.”
“Here we go,” said Royce, his eyes lighting up.
“This online map has every CCC location in the US—holy cow! There’re thousands of them!
” He zoomed in on Oregon and started clicking on the location indicator dots in Central Oregon.
“They’ve also got photos of every location.
That one’s a bridge . . . a school . . . how about—”
“That’s it!” said Crystal.
Everyone leaned in to look at the black-and-white photo.
It was what Ben had guessed: The structure had been built to house a fire crew and its equipment.
A simple structure but sturdily built with rocks and heavy timber.
Crystal was right that it had been built to last; it was nearly a hundred years old.
“Are you sure this is it, Crystal?” asked Noelle. “That photo is ancient.”
The woman nodded rapidly. “I’m positive. Absolutely nothing has changed—well, now the roof is metal, but the shape is the same. Porch. No windows.” She glared at the image. “Fucking asshole,” she whispered.
“That’s nowhere close to where you thought you were picked up on the road,” said Royce. “You must have traveled for miles through the woods. Where did the trucker take you?”
“It took a few rides, but I eventually ended up in Boise. A homeless shelter.” She glanced at Noelle. “That’s where I first told anyone I was Elise.”
“I’ll let the SWAT commander know,” said Noelle, picking up her phone. “Ben, can you suggest a good staging area for SWAT?”
The senior officer peered at the map. “Zoom out,” he ordered Royce. Then he confidently tapped the screen. “Right there. Nice big flat area at the intersection of two logging roads. About a quarter mile from the target.”
“Passing that on,” said Noelle. “What about communications? Do cell phones work up there?”
Ben and Royce snorted simultaneously.
“Noted,” said Noelle. “Maybe sat phones?”
“Maybe,” said Royce.
“What can I do?” asked Crystal.
“You can sit tight here at the station,” said Max. “Your part is done.”
“Fuck that. I told you where to find him. I should be there. It’s my daughter!”
“Royce, you got an empty cell handy?” asked Max, holding Crystal’s gaze. It was an empty threat, but she’d proved to be very resourceful in doing whatever she wanted. He didn’t want her interfering with a SWAT operation because she wanted to take on Drew Mims herself.
She sagged back in her chair. “Fine.”
“SWAT commander agrees with your staging location, Ben.” Noelle looked at Max, apprehension in her eyes. “Here we go.”
She means here we go again.
It’d only been two months since they—and Emma—had been involved in an FBI-SWAT operation.
Max automatically took mental inventory of the equipment in his SUV, his brain shifting into preparedness mode. Vest, shield, helmet, rifle. He’d been a SWAT sniper with his police department before he’d joined the FBI. The mindset was still instinctual for him.
It’s not my team.
But that didn’t mean he shouldn’t always be prepared.
“Let’s go,” he told Noelle, who instantly stood, resolution in her gaze.
We want Emma back.