by Cindi Myers
“Yes, Brodie and I have met.” The smile she gave him held an extra warmth, and Emily inwardly recoiled at a sudden pinch of jealousy. Seriously? Was she going to turn into that kind of cliché?
“Why don’t we have a seat?” she said, pulling out a chair.
They sat, Brodie at the end of the table and the two women facing each other. “Brodie said you haven’t been able to get in touch with your sister,” Emily began.
“Yes. Not since Monday afternoon, when the road opened again for what was it—less than a day? I wasn’t worried at first. I assumed she’d gone to Junction to shop and maybe take in a movie. But when I called the next day and she didn’t answer, I was a little concerned. And when she didn’t come to dinner last night, I knew something was wrong. It was my son’s birthday—he just turned six. Renee would never have missed Ian’s birthday.”
“Was your sister dating anyone in particular?”
“No.” She waved her hand, as if brushing aside the suggestion. “You know Renee—she always liked men, but she was never ready to settle down with anyone. She hasn’t changed in that respect.”
“But she had dated Alex Woodruff?” Emily asked.
“Yes.” The faint lines on either side of her mouth deepened. “When I saw his picture in the paper and read that he was a person of interest in the Ice Cold Killer murders, my legs gave out and I had to sit down. And I knew I had to contact the sheriff. In case...” She paused and swallowed, then forced out the next words. “In case he’s the reason Renee is missing.”
Emily reached across and took Ruthie’s hand and squeezed it. She could only imagine how worried Ruthie must be, but she wasn’t going to offer hollow words of comfort. “When did Renee last go out with Alex?” she asked.
“I’m not positive, but I think they only had the one date. I think she would have told me if there was more than one—that was back on New Year’s Eve. She went with him to the Elks’ New Year’s dance. My husband and I met them there.”
“Was that their first date?” Emily asked.
“Yeah. She told me she met him at Mo’s Pub a couple of nights before. He and a friend were there, playing pool, and she thought he was cute, so she asked him to the dance.”
“She asked him?” Brodie asked. “He didn’t approach her?”
“Not the way she told it.” Ruthie shrugged. “That was Renee—she liked calling the shots in a relationship and wasn’t afraid to make the first move.”
“What did you think of him?” Emily asked.
Ruthie made a face. “I didn’t like him. He struck me as too full of himself, and a phony. I told Renee that, too, and she said they had a lot of fun, but she didn’t think she’d go out with him again—he wasn’t her type. To tell you the truth, it surprised me she went out with him that one time. She generally likes older men who are a little rougher around the edges, you know? Outdoorsmen and daredevils. Alex was close to her age, and far too smooth.”
“Did Renee mention anything that might have happened later that night, maybe when Alex took her home—anything that seemed off or upsetting?” Emily asked.
“No. Nothing like that. She just said he wasn’t her type. My husband didn’t like Alex, either. In fact, he and I left the dance early. I was afraid if Bob had one too many drinks he might end up punching Alex. Alex kept popping off like he was an authority on everything and I could tell it was getting to Bob.”
“You married Bob Schultz?” Emily asked, picturing the rancher’s son who had never really been part of their group.
Ruthie smiled, her expression softening. “Yeah. I came home for Christmas after my first semester at Brown and he and I met up at a skating party my church had organized for the youth. We just really hit it off. I ended up transferring to Junction to finish my degree and we got married my sophomore year. We have two kids—Ian is six and Sophia is five.”
“Wow,” Emily said, trying—and failing—to hide her surprise.
Ruthie laughed. “I know! I was going to save the world and have all these adventures. But marriage and motherhood and running our ranch is adventure enough for me.”
“You sound really happy.”
“That’s because I am.” Her expression sobered once more. “Except, of course, I’m worried about Renee.”
“Now that we know she’s missing, we’ll be looking for her,” Brodie said. “You gave Travis a description of her vehicle, right?”
Ruthie nodded. “She drives a silver RAV4. Travis said he would put out a bulletin to let law enforcement all over the state know to be on the lookout for her. Maybe they will find her in Junction with some new guy she met.” She smiled, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. “That would be just like Renee.”
Brodie rose, and the women stood also. “Thank you for talking to me,” Emily said.
Ruthie reached out and gripped Emily’s wrist. “Be honest with me. Do you think this guy went after Renee?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said. “He hasn’t had a previous relationship with any of the other women he’s killed—at least not as far as we know. And all of them have been found very shortly after they were killed—within minutes, even.” She gently extricated herself from Ruthie’s grasp. “But people aren’t always predictable. All I can tell you is that this doesn’t follow his pattern so far.”
Ruthie nodded. “I know you can’t make any promises, but I’m holding out hope that it’s just a sick coincidence that she knew this man.” She shuddered. “I can’t believe we spent a whole evening with him. I thought he was a bit of a jerk, but I never in a million years would have pegged him as a killer.”
“If we could do that, we could prevent crimes before they happened,” Brodie said. “But we can’t.”
They walked with Ruthie to the front door, where she offered Emily another hug. “We’ll have to get together after this is all over,” Ruthie said. “I’d like you to meet my family.”
“I’d like that, too,” Emily said.
Brodie waited until Ruthie was gone before he spoke. “What do you think?” he asked.
Emily worried her lower lip between her teeth. “Alex went out with Michaela Underwood, too,” she said. “So we know he has used asking women out as a way to get to them.”
“But he killed Michaela on that first date. Renee Parmenter went out with him at least once and lived to tell the tale.”
“That was about a week before he and Tim killed Kelly Farrow and Christy O’Brien,” Emily said. “Maybe Alex was still working on his plan, or maybe killing women was still a fantasy for him then.”
“She didn’t tell her sister about anything unusual happening on the date, but that doesn’t mean nothing did,” Brodie said. “She might not have wanted to worry her sister.”
“If Renee was wary of Alex, she probably wouldn’t have gone out with him again,” Emily said.
“So you don’t think he used a second date as a way to get to her so he could kill her?” Brodie asked.
“I don’t know,” Emily said. “Maybe he charmed her. Or she was physically attracted to him in spite of her misgivings. Attraction can make people do things they know they shouldn’t.”
Her eyes met his, hoping he’d get the message that what had happened between them in his cabin yesterday was not going to be repeated. Brodie wasn’t a bad person—far from it. But she didn’t like the way he made her feel so out of control and not in charge of her decisions.
His gaze slid away from hers. “I hope Alex didn’t murder Renee Parmenter. But I can’t say I’ve got a good feeling about this.”
“No, I don’t, either,” she admitted.
“Have you come up with any ideas about where he might be hiding—or what he intends to do next?”
“No, I haven’t.”
He clapped her on the back. “Then you’d better get to work. I still think you can give us something
useful if you put your mind to it.”
“Because of course you’re always right.”
“I’ve got good instincts. And so do you, if you’d pay attention to them.”
He strode away, leaving her to wonder at his words—and at the look that accompanied them. She and Brodie seemed to specialize in nonverbal communication and mixed messages. It was probably time they cleared the air between them, but coming right out and saying what she felt wasn’t something she had had much practice at. Like most people, she liked to protect her feelings. She had allowed herself to be vulnerable to a man exactly once, and the ending made her unwilling to do so again.
* * *
BRODIE HAD CLAIMED a desk in the corner of the sheriff’s department conference room that had been turned into a situation room. The faces of the victims of the Ice Cold Killer surrounded him as he worked, and the scant evidence collected in the case crowded a row of folding tables against one wall. He hunched over his laptop, scanning databases, trying to trace Renee Parmenter’s movements since her disappearance.
Travis had asked Ruth to run a notice in the paper, asking anyone who had any knowledge of Renee’s whereabouts to contact the sheriff’s department, but that wouldn’t appear until tomorrow. As it was, Renee had been missing four days. Brodie feared they might already be too late.
The door to the room opened and Travis entered. He scanned the room, his gaze lingering a moment on the faces of the dead before he shifted his attention to Brodie. “Are you coming up with anything?”
Brodie pushed his chair back from the table that served as his desk. “The report from the CBI profiler came in a few minutes ago,” he said.
“And?” Travis asked.
Brodie turned back to the computer, found the file and opened it. “I forwarded the whole thing to you, but the gist of it is, she thinks now that Alex is working alone, and he knows we know his identity, that’s increasing the pressure on him. He’s likely to kill more often and perhaps take more risks. He’s trying to relieve the pressure and attempting to prove to us and to himself that we can’t stop him.”
“We have to find him in order to stop him,” Travis said. “Does the profiler have any idea where he’s likely to be hiding?”
“She doesn’t mention that,” Brodie said. “I’m still hoping Emily will come up with some ideas.”
Travis shook his head. “I don’t think my sister can help us with this one. We’re going to have to keep looking and hope we catch a break.”
“I’ve been working on trying to track Renee Parmenter,” Brodie said. “It looks like she bought gas here in town, charging it to her credit card, the afternoon she disappeared. After that, there’s nothing.”
“Maybe she ran into Alex at the gas station, or he flagged down her car on the side of the road and she stopped because she recognized him,” Travis said. “He asked her to give him a lift and he killed her.”
“And then what?” Brodie asked. “Did he hide her car with the body? He’s never done that before.”
Travis rubbed his chin. “Hiding her doesn’t fit with what we know about him, either,” he said. “Alex wants us to know he’s killed these women—that he got away with another murder. He wants to rub it in our faces that we aren’t even slowing him down.”
“He and Tim kidnapped Jamie and her sister and planned to kill them later,” Brodie said. “Maybe that’s a new MO for him.”
“They kidnapped Jamie’s sister in order to lure Jamie to them,” Travis said. “Tim told her they wanted to kill a deputy as a way of getting to me. Fortunately, she was able to fight off Tim until we got to her.”
“If Alex did kidnap Renee, he’d have to keep her somewhere,” Brodie said. “We should consider that when we’re focusing on places he might be hiding.”
The phone on Brodie’s desk beeped. He picked it up and Adelaide said, “Is the sheriff in there with you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve got a caller on the line who wants to talk to him. They were pretty insistent that I had to put them through to Travis. They won’t give a name and I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman.”
“You record the incoming calls, right?” Brodie asked.
“Of course.”
“Travis is right here.” Brodie hit the button to put the call on speaker and handed the handset to Travis.
“Hello? This is Sheriff Walker.”
After a second’s pause, a wavery voice came on the line. “I saw that girl you’re looking for. She was hitchhiking on Dixon Pass. That’s a dangerous thing to do, hitchhiking.”
Travis’s eyes met Brodie’s. He could tell the sheriff was thinking the same thing he was—how did the caller know about Renee when the story hadn’t even come out yet in the paper? “Who is calling?” Travis asked. “When did you see this hitchhiker?”
“Oh, it was a couple of days ago.” The man...woman...sounded frail and uncertain. “I just wanted you to know.”
“Could you describe her for me, please?” Travis asked. “And tell me exactly where you saw her.”
But the call had already ended. Brodie took the handset and replaced it. “I’ll contact the phone company and see if they can tell us anything about who made the call,” he said.
Travis nodded. “I’d bet my next paycheck they don’t find anything,” he said. “I don’t think that was a random Good Samaritan.”
“Me, either,” Brodie agreed. “Alex Woodruff is used to acting. It might not be too difficult for him to disguise his voice.”
“Yes. Maybe he’s annoyed that we haven’t found Renee’s body yet and decided to give us a hint.”
“Or maybe he’s set a trap.”
“Come on,” Travis said. “Let’s go up to Dixon Pass and find out.”
Chapter Ten
On the way up to the pass, Travis called Gage and let him know where they were headed and why. “I don’t want the whole department up there in case this is a false alarm,” Travis told his brother. “And I also don’t put it past Alex to do something like this to draw us away from town. Just be alert if you don’t hear from us in twenty minutes or so.”
“Will do,” Gage said. “But if that was Alex calling to give you a clue as to where to find Renee’s body, it was a pretty vague one. Where are you going to look?”
“I have some ideas.”
They parked Travis’s sheriff’s department SUV, which still bore faint traces of Alex’s graffiti on the driver’s side, at the barricades two-thirds of the way up the pass. They walked the rest of the way, past two dump trucks waiting to carry away loads of snow and an idling front-end loader. Travis stopped at the post that indicated the turnoff to the former ski area, most of the old road now buried under the avalanche that had almost killed Brodie and Gage. “The highway crews were able to clear this section of road pretty quickly,” he said. “Apparently, most of the snow that came down was below this point.”
“I still wonder what set off the slide,” Brodie said. “Gage and I thought we heard a gunshot right before it came down.”
“The road crew swears they had nothing to do with it,” Travis said. “They were on a break when the avalanche happened. They don’t remember seeing anyone around the road who wasn’t supposed to be here, either.”
Brodie continued to stare down at the river of snow. Sometimes things happened for no discernable reason, but the investigator in him didn’t easily accept that.
“Gage said you didn’t see anything suspicious down there before the slide,” Travis said.
“No. It didn’t look like anyone had been around for a while. I didn’t see anywhere Alex might have been hiding—though we weren’t able to get down there to take a closer look at the buildings. But if we couldn’t get down there, neither could Alex, so I’d rule him out.”
“Let’s find someone to talk to about Renee Parmenter.” They set out walk
ing again. When they rounded the next curve, they could see a wall of blinding white, easily fifteen feet high, obliterating the roadway. A massive rotary snowblower was slowly chewing its way through the wall, sending a great plume of snow into the canyon below.
A man in a hard hat, blaze-orange vest over his parka, approached. “What can I do for you officers?” he asked.
“We’re looking for a missing woman,” Travis said.
The man scratched his head under the hard hat. “We haven’t seen any women around here.”
“What about cars?” Brodie asked. “Do you ever come across cars buried under these avalanches?”
“Sometimes. But we usually know they’re there going in because someone reports it. If there was a driver or passenger in the vehicle, emergency services would have already worked to dig them out, and they usually flag the car for us so we can work around it. Hitting one could wreck a plow, but our guys watch out. There are all kinds of hazards that come down with the slides—rocks, trees. Once we found a dead elk.”
“You might want to keep an eye out for a car up here,” Travis said.
“What makes you think your missing woman is up here?” the man asked.
“We got a call,” Travis said. “She’s been missing since Monday—before the slide.”
The man nodded. “Okay. We’ll keep our eyes open.”
He walked away and Travis and Brodie stood for a few minutes longer, watching the steady progress of the blower, until Brodie’s ears rang with the sounds of the machinery. “Let’s get out of here!” he shouted to be heard above the din. The noise, the endless snow and the eeriness of a highway with no traffic were beginning to get to him. Or maybe he was just twitchy after almost being buried alive in an avalanche.
Back in Travis’s SUV, the sheriff didn’t immediately start the vehicle. “If Alex killed Renee Parmenter, I have to believe he chose her because she knew him and was inclined to trust him,” he said. “He took advantage of their previous relationship.”
“Same with Denise Switcher,” Brodie said. “She knew him from the university, so was more likely to stop when he flagged her down. He doesn’t have Tim to help him lure and subdue his victims, so he’s searching for easier prey—women who are more inclined to trust him.”
