by Hope White
* * *
The next morning Jack paced outside the bedroom door in the suite he’d rented for Zoe, having canceled his original reservation. Romeo had spent the night in the bedroom with Zoe, while Jack stretched out on the sofa in the main living area. He got maybe five hours of sleep, which would be enough to sustain him through the day.
He still hadn’t received a call from Search and Rescue. A part of him was relieved. He didn’t want to leave Zoe until he knew she was safe.
He needed to let Romeo out to do his business, but didn’t want to awaken Zoe. He tapped softly on the bedroom door. Romeo offered a yelp in response. Jack cracked open the door and Romeo skirted out.
Jack cast a quick glance in the room. Zoe was still asleep, buried beneath layers of bedding.
Jack took Romeo outside, across the parking lot to a small patch of grass where he could keep an eye on the door to his suite. His and Zoe’s suite. She had made it clear last night of her intention to pay half the rental fee. Jack was starting to understand that Zoe was a woman who relied on herself first and foremost, that she didn’t like asking for or accepting help from others.
Jack sensed most people liked having support from others. At least he’d seen that with his SAR friends, how they gave each other rides, shared snacks and supported one another when field-testing their dogs.
Being a loner himself, Jack could relate to Zoe’s need for distance, yet it seemed out of character for a woman like her to shun support and friendship. She seemed to enjoy Shannon’s friendship, so maybe she needed to deeply trust a person before she would allow herself to rely on them.
Yes, that had to be it. She didn’t know Jack well enough to trust him fully, although she seemed to accept his quirks more than most new acquaintances in his life.
Because that was what she was, an acquaintance. Not a friend. Jack didn’t have true friends, nor girlfriends. No, his ex-fiancée had been enough for him. The Mari experience had taught him never to open up again, that even if he wanted to be like other men, he couldn’t change who he was—a man with missing pieces.
You’ll never able to satisfy a healthy woman emotionally, she’d said, then enlightened him about love, explaining that if he cared about her, he wouldn’t imprison her to an emotionless marriage.
To Mari, being with Jack felt like being in prison.
He shook his head to snap out of it. Apparently lack of sleep caused the dark memories to surface, reigniting the pain as if it had happened yesterday.
Then again, maybe it was the lack of sleep coupled with something else triggering his analysis. The way he felt about Zoe Pratt. Concerned. Protective. And something he couldn’t quite articulate.
No reason to analyze things beyond his understanding. They had a full day ahead of them, and neither of them knew what would come next.
He grabbed dog food from the truck and went back into the suite.
“Hey,” Zoe said from the kitchenette.
“Did we wake you?” He shut and double locked the door.
“No, I had a nightmare.”
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at him and smiled slightly.
“What’s wrong?” he said, dumping kibble in a bowl and placing it on the floor.
“I just... Never mind.”
“It makes me uncomfortable when I can’t interpret facial expressions. I thought you smiled.”
“I guess I did.” She poured herself a cup of coffee. “Thanks for making coffee.”
“So why did you smile?”
She sat down at the kitchen table. “You held space for me. That’s unusual for someone like you.”
“Someone like me,” he repeated, pouring himself coffee. “You mean...?” All the names he’d been called since childhood started spinning in his head: Brainiac, freak, dork.
“Brilliant, gifted, astute,” she said.
He stepped around the table to read her expression, wanting to assess if she was being ironic or not.
“This is my authentic, honest face,” she clarified. Again, with a smile. “Why do you look so bewildered?”
“Brilliant, gifted and astute aren’t usually the first words that come to mind when a person is describing me.”
“Ah, you mean people usually focus on the socially awkward aspects of your personality.”
He sat across the table from her. “That is correct.”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “People get offended if you don’t respond the way they think you should. I’ll admit I was at first, until I got to know you better. Whatever happened to giving someone another chance or turning the other cheek?”
“The book of Matthew,” Jack said.
“You’re a man of faith?”
“Not exactly, but I’ve read the Bible front to back.”
“Oh,” she said.
He thought he heard disappointment in her voice.
“Thanks again for letting me stay here, but I’ll move to the inn later today.” She paused. “After I get some clothes and a toothbrush and comb and everything else that burned up in the fire. Which still has me mystified.”
“I spoke with Sergeant Peterson. Initial reports indicate the fire was intentional.”
She shuddered.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that,” he said.
“No.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Tell me the truth, always. Even if you think it will upset me. Do they have any idea who set off the explosion?”
He hesitated.
“Go on,” she prompted.
“If you saw Shannon fleeing the scene—”
“I didn’t say it was Shannon.”
“But a woman fitting her description was seen leaving the scene. They suspect she set the fire to destroy evidence.”
She leaned back, breaking contact with him. “I won’t accept that. Ever.” She stood and went into the bedroom.
Jack continued to process their conversation about understanding, or rather others’ lack of understanding of how his mind worked. He also puzzled over her directive to be completely honest with her. In his experience people didn’t always appreciate honesty.
Zoe rejoined him in the kitchen and placed a light blue journal on the table. “They didn’t get Shannon’s journal. I’m going to use it to figure out what’s going on and why she was kidnapped.”
“No,” Jack said.
“Excuse me?”
“You shouldn’t involve yourself in the investigation. Let the police do their jobs and find Shannon.”
“The police think she’s involved with drugs.”
“They will uncover the truth.”
“Wait, you agree with them?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It sounded like it.”
“I have no evidence either way, so I have no opinion.”
“Well, she’s my friend and she’s in trouble, so I do have an opinion. She’s innocent of any wrongdoing and shouldn’t be blamed for her own kidnapping.” Zoe’s voice raised in pitch.
He wasn’t sure what he’d done to cause her to be upset.
“They should be focused on saving Shannon, not tying her to a drug operation,” she said.
“That’s not what they’re trying to do.”
“It sure sounds like it to me.”
“Because you’re being overly emotional.”
She stood so quickly her chair tipped over. Romeo barked as he dodged out of the way of the falling chair.
“Oh no, Romeo, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she said, kneeling beside him.
As she stroked the dog’s fur, Jack realized he’d crossed the line again. He’d been too blunt even for Zoe Pratt, who claimed to understand and wanted complete honesty.
“What I meant was—” Jack started.
“It’s o
kay. You’re right. I’m being overly emotional.” She glanced up at Jack. “I still need to help Shan, at least by finding answers to prove she isn’t involved. Can’t you understand that?”
He wasn’t sure he did, but he wanted to try. “Sure, okay.”
“I won’t do anything dangerous. I’ll make some calls, talk to some of her friends and coworkers. Get to know my best friend,” she said, a sadness in her voice.
“I’d like to help.” Jack found Zoe intriguing and amiable. He didn’t want anything bad to happen to her, and not because he feared failing again. This felt different. She was pleasant and respectful of him.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she needed his support.
“Don’t you need to go up with SAR to search for Shannon?” she said.
“They haven’t sent out an alert yet. As long as I’m not on the mountain, I’ll be with you.”
* * *
Zoe and Jack made a trip to a local retail store that sold everything from fresh produce to clothes. Jack had even managed to find a new canister of pepper spray, in case she’d used up her original. She picked up essentials, plus a couple of pairs of jeans and some tops.
Then Zoe spent the rest of the morning going through Shannon’s journal and coming up with a list of people to talk to. She didn’t let Jack read the journal per se, because even she felt guilty about peeking into her friend’s most private thoughts. But making the list was a good start, and made her feel like she wasn’t so helpless.
A part of her wondered if Jack was humoring her, if he thought the journal could reveal answers. Sometimes even she couldn’t figure out what was going on in that mind of his. Which was okay. Zoe appreciated that she wasn’t doing this alone, and she sensed he didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. Instinct told her his motivations were honorable.
Jack focused on work, creating a proposal for a prospective client, and developing code for another. The most Zoe understood about computers was how to turn one on and use her word programs to create assessments, plus how to check email, although she mostly did that on her phone. She received an email from Trevor stating he was staying with his grandmother for a while. Zoe sighed with relief and shared the news with Jack.
A while later, a forensic artist stopped by to work with Zoe on her descriptions of the kidnapper and home intruder. After the artist left, Jack made them both tea and continued to work on his laptop.
“I’m sorry, I forgot you have a life outside of all this,” Zoe said.
“Why are you sorry?” He turned to her and leaned against the counter.
She was momentarily distracted by his good looks. Boy, did she need a full night’s sleep. “I’m sorry because I’m taking you away from your work.”
“It will still be there later. Tomorrow. Next week.”
“Do you like your work?”
“I like the challenge, yes. Plus, I like helping clients keep important information secure.”
“You’re quite a giving kind of guy.”
He shot her that cute frown that indicated he didn’t know how she’d come to that conclusion.
“Well, you help protect your clients, you help find missing hikers. How did you get involved in Search and Rescue?”
“Romeo needed a job.” He glanced at the dog. “Turns out I like the physical challenge, as well.”
“When you sell your company and travel, won’t you miss Search and Rescue?”
He shrugged. “I’m ready to start today’s investigation. Where to first?”
She found it interesting that he wouldn’t answer her question. “I thought we’d start with the community center. Shannon volunteered there with the teen program.”
“Very good.”
* * *
Jack left Romeo at the motel and swung by a burger place for lunch. The community center didn’t open until 1:00 p.m. so they had time. Sharing a quiet lunch, Zoe realized she was too tired to make mindless conversation, and Jack probably appreciated the stillness.
They occasionally made eye contact, but it wasn’t awkward. The silence seemed to satisfy them both. It gave her time to think about what she’d ask employees at the community center. It also gave her time to reflect.
As long as I’m not on the mountain, I’ll be with you.
She considered Jack’s words from last night. His promise both calmed and worried her. She liked the idea of having personal protection, but she also suspected he was one of the best search-and-rescue volunteers available. He should be out there looking for Shannon, not babysitting Zoe.
“Still no text from SAR,” he said. “The weather must be dangerous up there.”
The timing of his comment was incredible.
“Well, let’s see how much we can get done together before you’re called out again,” she said. “I should probably contact someone about having my car fixed.”
“I believe the sheriff’s office took it to process for fingerprints.”
She nodded. “Don’t suppose you know where I can rent a car?”
“Move that off the list.”
“The list?”
“The list of things you need to do. You have me to drive you around, so move that off your list for now.”
“Yes, but you won’t be around for long.”
“You worry a lot.”
“Can you blame me?” Zoe asked, incredulous.
“I’ve upset you again.”
“No, yes, maybe. It’s this feeling of helplessness that’s got me tied into knots.”
“What can you do right now?”
“Figure out who to talk to at the community center.”
“Finish your burger. That’s what you can do.”
“Jack—”
“Staying present and grounding yourself is a tool that can manage anxiety.”
She leaned back in the plastic booth. “That’s what I tell my clients. Yet I totally forget to take my own advice.”
“We rarely listen to ourselves.”
“You should be the counselor,” she said.
“I’m too blunt.”
“Sometimes that’s what’s needed.”
“But mostly kids need to be listened to. I’m not a good listener.”
She started to disagree but held her tongue. It was interesting how Jack saw himself versus how Zoe saw him.
“Do you need more ketchup?” he asked.
“No, I’m good.” She finished her burger and sipped her lemonade.
A few minutes later they were in his truck headed for the community center. She noticed how he continually scanned his rearview and side mirrors, as if expecting trouble.
She made a plan in her mind about who she’d talk to and what she’d say.
How has Shannon been acting lately?
Did she seem upset or worried?
She’d start there and see if those questions opened any doors.
They entered the front of the center and checked in with the receptionist. Zoe noted that the building was previously a school that had been freshened up with a coat of paint and colorful posters on the walls.
A few minutes later a woman in her sixties joined them. She was dressed professionally in dark slacks and a burgundy sweater.
“Hello,” she greeted. “I’m Wendy Yost, director of the community center.”
“Nice to meet you.” Zoe shook her hand. “I’m Zoe Pratt and this is Jack Monroe.”
Wendy eyed Jack. “Jack Monroe from Search and Rescue?”
“Yes,” Jack said.
“Oh, it’s very good to meet you. We all appreciate everything you’ve done.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice flat.
“As I explained on the phone, I’m good friends with Shannon Banks,” Zoe said.
“Shannon was such a wonderful young woman,�
� Wendy said.
“She still is,” Zoe blurted out.
“We’re still searching for her,” Jack added. “She has not been found.”
“Oh, that is good news.”
“Anyway, I was hoping you could answer some questions about Shannon?” Zoe said.
“Of course. Let’s go to my office.”
They headed down the hall and Wendy motioned to various rooms as they passed, explaining what they were used for: an exercise room, a mom and tots room, a club room where everyone from knitters to water color artists gathered.
“We serve residents of Skagit County, from children to retirees. Shannon mostly worked with kids on Tuesdays and Fridays from 6:00 to 9:00 p.m.”
“You mean Angie’s Youth Club?” Zoe asked.
“Yes, renamed after teenager Angie Adams.” Wendy glanced at Jack.
“She died,” Jack added.
Zoe sensed the subject disturbed him, so she redirected the conversation. “What types of things did Shannon do for Angie’s Youth Club?”
“She created the program by developing activities and field trips to local businesses. She even worked with Sergeant Peterson to coordinate a few ride-alongs.”
“I’ll bet the kids loved that,” Zoe said.
“They did. Shannon also taught kids how to set goals in her life skills workshop, and had a friend assist with a computer workshop.”
“I have a right to be here!” a young voice echoed from around the corner.
Wendy picked up her pace, a worried expression creasing her brow.
“I’m sorry but you need to leave,” an older, male voice said.
Wendy, Zoe and Jack turned the corner and saw an elderly gentleman trying to escort a teenager out of a classroom. The teenage girl had jet-black hair with streaks of dark red, and wore a torn denim jacket. Her face was flushed pink.
“I want to see Shannon!” the teen shouted.
“Hey, I’m Shannon’s friend,” Zoe said. “Can I help?”
Wendy motioned for the elderly man to step back.
“I have to talk to Shannon,” the girl said.
“Well,” Zoe began cautiously, “we don’t know where Shannon is right now. We’re all worried about her. I’m sure she’d want me to help. You seem very upset.”
