by Cindi Myers
“The boy—his name was Cameron—tried to kill himself. His father found him. He’d...he’d tried to hang himself.”
“Oh, Hud.” She leaned her head on his shoulder once more.
But the worst was out. He felt stronger now. “Cameron told his parents what was going on. They told the school. I was expelled, and my parents put me in counseling, and the counselor referred me to a program for bullies. There were a couple of cops who volunteered with the program, and they got me interested in police work. I was lucky, really.”
“You changed. I can’t tell you how hopeful that makes me.” She sounded as if she meant it.
“I was thinking about that little girl at your school. Mia,” he said.
Audra nodded. “She’s not a bad child. I know that. And I tried talking to her parents, but they refused to see that there was any problem. Her teacher is convinced that the whole problem was with April. Now that she is no longer enrolled, there won’t be a problem. But I’d like to do what I can to address situations like this from both sides. In fact, I spent half the night looking up resources and planning a curriculum that would address bullying for all ages. It was going to be a model program. And then the news about my past addiction came out. I had parents calling all morning, wanting to withdraw their children, or at least demanding to know if what they had read was true.”
“Your assistant told me they sent you home as a stalling tactic,” he said.
“You went by the school?”
“When you didn’t answer your phone, I checked there first.”
“How was it? I hated to leave Brenda to deal with things alone, but under the circumstances, my presence there was only fanning the flames. I’m hoping, given a few hours, some of the most heated emotions will cool, though I’ll have to address the situation one way or another.”
“The phone was ringing a lot, but there were no parents, and no reporters, at the school when I was there. But your assistant—Brenda—wasn’t alone. Jana Keplar was in the office with her.”
Audra straightened, color flooding back to her face. “Jana had no business being in the office. She has a class to see to. And after what she said about me to reporters, she’s lucky to have a job.”
“I only heard the story on the television news,” he said. “What did the papers say?”
In answer, she got up, retrieved a folded newspaper from her bag and thrust it at him. He scanned through the article, then shook his head. “Where do they get all this about your relationship with your father being rocky?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m guessing TDC. Anyone he worked with could claim to be close to him, and ever since he left, they’ve been doing everything possible to discredit him. This is just one more way to embarrass him.”
He tossed the paper aside. “I’m sorry you’re having to go through this,” he said. “What can I do to help?”
She sat beside him once more and wrapped her arms around him. “You’re already doing it,” she said. “Right now.”
* * *
IT WAS WELL after noon before Hud made it to Ranger headquarters. He’d called in earlier, claiming he needed to see to a personal matter and would be in late. Thankfully, no one had questioned him too closely. Audra had assured him she was fine, and while he wanted to get back to her as soon as possible, he knew he’d be working late, going through the rest of Roy Holliday’s computer files.
So far he’d read through numerous drafts of articles Holliday had written—many about Dane Trask, but also features on Black Canyon of Gunnison National Park, and one profile of TDC Enterprises that delved into the history of the company, its principal officers and its current projects, which included the elementary school where Audra was scheduled to relocate her business.
Other files consisted of transcripts of interviews, though Holliday had a maddening habit of identifying the people he interviewed only by their initials. Sometimes Hud was able to figure out that MC in one interview was Michael Carter quoted in an article Holliday had written, but other times the identities of the interviewees remained a mystery.
A third set of files seemed to consist of to-do lists, which included everything from “change oil” to “meeting with RJ 2:15.” Using these lists and the dates the files originated, Hud was able to construct a rough schedule of Holliday’s activities in the weeks prior to his death. He focused on appointments, most of which were either for interviews or research for articles, or with editors with whom Holliday worked.
He found a note that said “see AT” dated the day before Holliday disappeared. Was this a reminder to himself to stop by Audra Trask’s house to try to interview her? The day before that was a note to “call MR” but Hud had not been able to determine who MR might be, and had found no reference to anyone with those initials in the files, and no interview or other notes about such a person. He was still waiting on Holliday’s phone records.
Hud sat back and studied the schedule he had made of Holliday’s activities in the days before the reporter died. He believed Holliday had made some kind of contact with the person or persons who killed him during that time. He had met up with them again shortly after he left Audra’s house Wednesday morning. He and his car had been taken, Holliday killed and his body put in cold storage, then dumped, and his car and everything in it destroyed and dumped. Why? The most obvious answer was that in the course of his reporting, Holliday had come across information his killer or killers didn’t want made public.
Holliday had primarily been working on the Dane Trask disappearance at the time of his death. Had he learned something about Trask?
He groaned and tried to rub the kink out of his neck. Time to share what he’d learned with the rest of the team. Maybe other eyes would see what he hadn’t. Even though Holliday was dead, there was always a sense of urgency in a murder case. Too often, the murderer would strike again. Hud wanted to stop him before that happened.
He was on his way to the commander’s office when his cell phone rang. “Officer Hudson,” he answered.
“Martin Burns from Montrose PD. You’re working on the Dane Trask disappearance, aren’t you?”
Hud remembered the MPD detective who had questioned Richard Salazar. “I am,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Someone broke into Trask’s house this morning. I figured someone from the Ranger Brigade would want to take a look.”
“I’ll be right over.” Dane Trask’s home had sat empty for seven weeks. Had the vacant property been too tempting for thieves, or was someone after something in particular?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“A neighbor saw someone over here and called it in.” Detective Burns met Hud in front of Dane Trask’s home. Hud had been to the modest but elegant cedar-sided home once before, to collect Trask’s electronics and search for anything that might aid them in discovering his purpose in disappearing. The Ranger Brigade’s searches hadn’t turned up anything of value, and they had left the house much as they found it, orderly but lifeless.
This time, someone else had been searching for something, and had destroyed any sense of order. Furniture had been overturned, the cushions and undersides of chairs and sofas slashed open. Books from the bookcases lay twisted on the floor, and the pots from dead or dying houseplants had been emptied onto the carpet. Every drawer and cabinet had been emptied, every picture taken from the wall and cut from its frame. A forensics team dressed in white coveralls and booties moved through the mess, taking photographs, dusting for fingerprints and searching for evidence.
“Whoever did this left behind an expensive watch and high-end electronics,” Burns said as he and Hud followed a carefully marked path through the chaos. “Though it’s impossible to tell if they took anything else.”
“Is every room like this?” Hud asked. They were in the kitchen now, broken dishes and opened packages of pasta and coffee littering the floor.
&nbs
p; “Every one,” Burns said.
Hud shook his head. “Then I don’t think whoever did this found what they were looking for.”
“What were they looking for?” Burns asked.
“I don’t know.” Was it someone from TDC, trying to find something to further discredit Trask? Was it the mysterious “Lawrence” who had paid the private detective to dig up information about Audra? Or someone else entirely, someone the Rangers weren’t yet aware of?
“Detective! We’ve got something here.” One of the forensics team, a tall woman with a braid of blond hair, approached, a plastic bag in her gloved hand.
Burns studied the bag, then leaned over and sniffed. “Heroin?” he asked.
“I think so,” the young woman said.
“We’ll test it to be sure,” Burns said, and the woman left the room with the bag.
“Have you found anything to indicate Trask was into drugs?” Burns asked Hud.
“No,” Hud said. “And we searched this place, and his office at TDC, right after he disappeared. We didn’t find anything.”
“So whoever was trashing the place left it behind?” Burns scratched behind his ear. “That’s not something you just casually drop—especially since they haven’t left so much as a hair behind, at least that we’ve discovered to this point.
“Maybe it was a clumsy attempt to discredit Trask,” Hud said.
“Clumsy, all right.” He looked around the room, then back at Hud. “I can’t figure this guy out. He had everything going for him—great job, respect in the community, a good relationship with his daughter. Yet he chucks it all to play hide-and-seek in the national park. You’re pretty sure he’s still there, right?”
Hud nodded. “Pretty sure.” Dallas Wayne Braxton had been definite in his identification of the man he had encountered on the hiking trail, and it didn’t seem likely Trask would have stuck it out living rough for so many weeks and suddenly decided to move on.
“If we get any more information here, I’ll let you know,” Burns said.
“Thanks. I’ll pass on anything we uncover on our end.” And now he’d have to tell Audra about this latest development. He didn’t want her deciding to drop by her father’s place and discovering this mess.
They headed toward the door, but Burns paused to look back at the chaos. “Whatever Trask is up to, he sure ticked off somebody,” he said.
Hud needed to find Trask—or the person who was after him—before Audra ended up the chief casualty of the battle.
* * *
WHEN AUDRA RETURNED TO work after lunch, the phones had stopped ringing off the hook and, while a few students had been kept home by their parents, only one child had been officially withdrawn. Audra breathed a little easier, believing she had weathered the worst of the latest crisis. People had realized their children were well cared for and happy and getting a good education at her school, and that mattered more to them than something that had happened in the past. Now if she could persuade the school district to think the same way, everything would be back on track again.
But that still left the problem of what to do about Mia and bullying. Her conversation with Hud had made her want to dig deeper and try to help the girl before a minor problem became a serious one. So she sent Brenda to fetch the child from Jana’s classroom.
Brenda returned a few moments later, Mia, looking frightened, at her side. “Am I in trouble?” Mia asked as soon as she saw Audra.
“No,” Audra said firmly. She looked at Brenda, who was still standing by Mia, taking all of this in. “Thank you, Brenda. Mia and I will be fine now.”
“Then why did you call me out of class?” Mia asked after Brenda had left and shut the door behind her. “Mrs. Keplar said I shouldn’t have to go to the office if I’m not in trouble.”
Jana Keplar needs to keep out of this, Audra thought, but she said, “I wanted a chance to talk to you about what happened with April. But I promise, you’re not in trouble. I want to hear your side of the story.”
Mia slid into the chair next to Audra, her feet not touching the floor. She sat very straight, her hands in her lap. She was a pretty child, with an alert expression and an easy manner. An easy child to like. “I tried to be friends with April, like you asked,” Mia said. “But the other girls made fun of me for hanging out with a baby.”
And of course it was tough for a little kid to stand up to that kind of criticism, Audra thought. Children could be cruel. Then again, adults could be, too. “Sometimes, doing the right thing is more important than being popular,” she said gently.
Audra’s interpretation of the look Mia sent her was “adults can be so dumb.” Okay, time to try another approach. She searched her memory for everything she knew about Mia. “You have a little brother, don’t you?” she asked.
Mia nodded.
“Why doesn’t he come to day care, too?”
“Mama says he can’t come until he’s out of diapers.”
“But we take infants,” Audra said. Was Mia’s mother unaware of this?
“I know. I told her that, but she said the extra charge for babies is too high, so she’s going to stay home with him.” She pouted, yet still managed to look adorable. “I don’t see why I can’t stay home, too, but she said no. So she gets to be with him all day, while I have to be here.”
Audra caught a glimmer of understanding. “That must be really hard,” she said.
Mia swung her legs and looked away.
“I guess sometimes it’s hard for you to be happy here at school, then, when you wish you were home,” Audra said.
Mia shrugged. “I like school. But I miss my mom, too.”
Audra wanted to pull the little girl close and rock her in her arms, but she wasn’t sure how Mia—or her mother—would view that. Instead, she patted Mia’s shoulder. “Thank you for talking to me,” she said. “Starting soon, we’re going to have some lessons that talk about being kind to everyone and not calling names. I think you’ll be able to help your classmates with those lessons.”
Mia looked relieved. “So I’m really not in trouble?”
“Not at all.” What Mia had done to April was wrong. But the adults in her life were at fault, too, for not doing more to help her, as well.
When she was alone again, Audra called Mia’s mother. “Mrs. Ramsey, this is Audra Trask, from Canyon Critters Daycare.”
“If you’re calling about Mia, I don’t want to hear it,” Mrs. Ramsey said. “I won’t have her being made a scapegoat for other people’s bad behavior.”
“I am calling about Mia, but not because she’s done anything wrong,” Audra said. “She’s a very sweet, smart child.”
“Oh.” Audra could almost feel the woman on the other end of the line deflating. “Then why are you calling? Are you fundraising or something?”
“No. I had a conversation with Mia this afternoon I thought would interest you.”
“What has she been telling you?”
“Mia loves you very much. And she loves her little brother.”
“Well, of course. She’s a very loving child. And we love her.”
“I know you do. But I think she’s feeling a little left out, with you staying home with the baby all day and her coming here.”
“Day care for infants is more expensive, and I was able to work out an arrangement with my employer to work from home, so it makes sense for me to be here with the baby. But trying to work with two children underfoot, especially one as lively as Mia, would be impossible.”
“I understand. And I’m not calling to persuade you to put your son in day care. Not until you’re ready.”
“Mia loves going to school. She has so many friends there, and she’s learning a lot. She’s already in the second-grade reader.”
“She’s a very bright child. But bright children can also be very sensitive. I know you’re se
nding Mia to school, even though you could keep her home, because you see the benefits to her. But to her four-year-old mind, she just sees herself being sent away while the baby gets all your attention.”
“Are you saying this behavior of hers, with that other little girl, April—was just acting out because she’s upset about the baby?”
“It could be,” Audra said.
“Then what do you suggest I do?”
This was the opening Audra had been waiting for. “You could try keeping Mia home a couple of days a week. Just as an experiment. We offer that option for parents with flexible schedules.”
“That would certainly save us money. But do you really think it would help?”
“It might. I think after a few weeks, Mia might decide on her own she wants to come to school every day. But it will be her decision then, not something forced on her.”
“She’s only four. It’s my job to make decisions for her.”
“Of course. But I really do think this could help.”
“Then I’m willing to try. And thank you. I may have spoken a little harshly before.”
Audra smiled. “You love your daughter, so of course you were sensitive to criticism of her.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
Audra ended the call and hung up the phone. One victory. If only every problem could be solved with a little thought and conversation.
* * *
HUD FILLED IN the rest of the team about the break-in at Dane Trask’s home. “There was no heroin in that house when we searched it,” Knightbridge said. “Lotte would have found it.” At the sound of her name, the Belgian Malinois at his side looked up, alert.
“Didn’t you say Montrose PD found heroin in that private detective’s car?” Dance asked. “Could there be a connection there?”
“Richard Salazar is still in county jail,” Hud said. “I checked.”
“Maybe the connection is Trask’s daughter,” Redhorse said. “She had an opiate addiction.”
