Brady grunted. “And what about Ken? What’s his last name?”
“Uh... Grainger,” she replied, reluctance coloring her tone.
“He’s the one who went out of state?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Where did he go? Did he say?”
“Uh, no. I don’t think so. Just that his mother was terribly ill, and he’d be gone for a week or so.”
“When did he leave?”
Carol scoffed. “You don’t think Ken—”
“When did he leave?” Brady repeated, his tone brooking no resistance.
“Uh...about a week ago.” Her voice had begun trembling and getting higher in pitch, reflecting her anxiety with the questions. “The same time...yes, it was the same day Piper left.”
Brady muttered a curse word and met Josh’s anxious gaze. Alarm bells clanged in his brain, echoing the uneasy suspicions scratching in his brain. He didn’t believe in coincidence. Everything in him said this Ken Grainger was their man.
Chapter 16
Brady lowered the phone and tapped a button to put Carol on the speaker setting so Josh could listen.
“I... That has to be a coincidence. Ken would never—”
“Describe him.” Brady interrupted.
“What?”
“What does this Ken look like? Age, height, weight, hair color...”
“Uh, I...d-don’t...” Carol stuttered, her reluctance to incriminate her coworker obvious.
“Look, if he’s innocent, and I’m off base in my assumptions, then no harm, no foul. It will go no further. But if there is even a slight chance that he could be responsible, we need to know who and what to look for. You want to help us find Piper, don’t you?”
“Of course. I just...” She paused, and they could hear her nervous sigh. “Ken is about thirty-five. He’s average height. Maybe five ten to six feet. A little on the pudgy side but not fat.”
“Hair? Eyes? Tattoos?”
“Brown hair. Medium-brown. Not sure about his eyes. Never noticed. No tattoos I know of. But he wears glasses. The kinda squared-off, heavy, black plastic frames that are so popular now. In my day, they were considered nerdy.”
“Long hair or short?”
“Longish hair. Not ’60s-hippie long, but longer than the more conservative men in the office. And messy. Like he didn’t comb his hair in the morning. And my late husband, God rest him, would always say, ‘That boy needs a haircut!’ when he’d see guys with hair like Ken’s, all getting in his eyes.” She sighed. “Does that help?”
“Yeah, I get the idea. I don’t suppose you have a picture of him you could send to my phone?”
“I don’t know. I don’t feel right about...”
“If he’s not our man, I swear no one will ever know you sent it. If he is, then—”
“He’s not. He couldn’t be.”
“Wouldn’t you rather err on the side of caution...for Piper’s sake?”
“I’ll...see if I have something I can forward to you from our last office party.”
“Psst.” Josh wiggled his fingers around his chin and lifted his eyebrows in query.
Brady nodded. “That’d be great. Thank you. Meantime, does he have facial hair?”
“Clean-shaven, usually. Sometimes he’d skip shaving and have a stubbly chin, but...no mustache or anything.” Carol sighed audibly. “Oh, I feel terrible about this. Ken may be a little odd sometimes, but he’s a good guy. Hardworking.”
“Odd how?”
“No, forget I said that. I... He said he was going to visit his sick mother, and I believe him.”
“I’m just trying to cover all the bases. How is he odd?”
“Good luck finding Piper. Please, call me back when you find her. I’m gonna be so worried until I hear back that she’s okay.”
“What do you mean about Ken being odd?” Brady repeated, but silence answered him. “Hello?”
“She’s gone,” Josh said, confirming the obvious. “Well, we have a description.”
“Shall we start asking around? If this guy did follow Piper here, then maybe someone saw him.” Brady hitched his head to the door of the restaurant and stashed his phone in his pocket.
“Right.” Josh raised his own phone to his ear. “I’m calling this in. None of this sits well with me. Maybe the cops can issue a BOLO or whatever they call it.”
Nodding, Brady blew warmth into his hands, and he prayed that, if Piper had wandered away from her car for some reason, she at least was wearing enough warm clothing to protect her against the cold.
Josh twisted his mouth in thought while he waited for his call to be answered. “I’ll leave Zoe’s to you. I’ll start at the Minute Mart.”
While Piper’s brother, now talking to the emergency dispatcher, headed across the parking lot to the convenience store, Brady stepped into the warmth of the restaurant, where the fragrance of fried food and onions scented the air. Anxiety beat an impatient rhythm in his blood. Time was wasting, and every minute spent searching for Piper was another minute something terrible could happen to her.
Zane was standing beside Gill’s table, still engaged in what was obviously a tense conversation.
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” Zane said. “But my sister is missing, and I’m asking anyone and everyone what they know about it. I repeat, have you seen her today?”
“Maybe instead of bugging everyone and disturbing their business lunches, you should try calling the police.” Gill sat back in his chair and snapped his napkin out before smoothing it in his lap and pulling his chair up to the table. “It’s their job to find missing people. Not mine.”
“They’ve been called, but I can’t sit by and not do something to help search.”
Gill spotted Brady and aimed his fork at him. “That’s who you should ask. Word on the street is he’s got plenty of reason to be hacked off at your sister. Ask him where she is.”
Brady gritted his teeth and swallowed his resentment. Getting into a brawl with Gill wouldn’t help find Piper.
Zane glanced back at Brady and shook his head. “No. You’re barking up the wrong tree there, Gill. Brady has every reason to want Piper found.” Zane jerked a nod to Gill and his lunch guest. “If you see or hear anything you think will help us, please call. The bank has our number.”
Zane turned to Brady and sighed. “He had nothing.”
“And you believe him?” In all honesty, Brady doubted Gill was responsible for Piper’s disappearance, but he wondered if the schmuck might withhold information about seeing her out of spite.
Before Zane could answer, the diner’s owner called from the bar, “What’s going on, Zane? Is there a problem?”
They headed to the polished wood bar, and Zane explained about Piper’s abandoned car. “We suspect someone grabbed her, maybe the person she hit, or maybe she was hurt and someone drove her to the hospital, but... We’re exploring all options.”
Brady added, “We’re also looking into the possibility that she could have been followed here from Boston. Have you seen anyone new in town this past week?”
Zane gave Brady a curious look.
“Well,” Zoe said, chewing her lip as she scrunched her forehead in thought, “there’s been a reporter hanging out here several nights lately.”
“A reporter?” Zane shook his head. “I can’t imagine he—”
“Describe him.” Brady interrupted.
Zane’s brow furrowed as Zoe began, “Average height and weight, brown hair, glasses...”
“What kind of glasses?” Brady asked, his pulse spiking. His phone buzzed with an incoming text, and he checked it, praying it was Piper. Instead, it was an unfamiliar number with a Boston area code and a picture attachment. When he opened it, the message said, Ken is on the right.
The photo had two men in a random sho
t at what was obviously an office birthday party. He zoomed in on the man on the right, then saved the photo to his phone.
“Black frames. Kinda square.”
Brady turned his phone to Zoe. “Is this him?”
She squinted at the image, then blinked as she nodded. “Yeah, that’s the guy. You know him?”
“No, but Piper does.” Brady squelched the roiling anxiety in his gut. “Why do you think he’s a reporter?”
“’Cause he’s always asking questions about the area. Said he’s here researching the wildlife of our area for some science journal. And once, I saw him putting a camera with a huge lens on it into his rental car.”
A camera? A sick feeling swamped Brady’s stomach, thinking of this guy watching Piper, photographing her, and he met Zane’s glower.
“I asked him about the camera,” Zoe continued, “and he said he was photographing wildlife for his article. He asked about remote spots where people wouldn’t disturb him or scare away the animals.”
Remote spots. Fresh floods of acid filled Brady’s gut.
Zane dragged a hand down his cheek, groaning. “Did you give him any suggestions?”
“Not really. I told him there were lots of remote areas around here, and he could take his pick.”
“Do you have any idea where we can find this guy now?” Brady pressed. “We have reason to believe Piper may be with him...and that he means to hurt her.”
Zoe’s eyes widened in alarm, and Zane’s chin shot up. “What the hell? What did you find out about him?”
“I don’t have any facts, but I think he’s stalking Piper. And there’s a chance he may have killed someone from Piper’s office a few months back.”
Zane plowed a hand through his hair, his expression understandably freaked out, panicked. “What are we standing around here for, then? We have to find this guy! Have you reported this to the cops yet?”
“Josh was calling it in when I left him, but he didn’t have this picture.” He waved the phone where the photo still glowed.
Zane paced in a tight circle, his movements jerky and agitated as he tapped the side of his clenched fist to his mouth. Spinning toward the bartender, he barked, “Describe the rental car.”
“Um...” Zoe’s face grew increasingly pale, and her breath more shallow and rapid. She twisted a towel in her hands and shook her head slowly. “Dark. Blue maybe, or black? Dark gray? No, blue, I think.”
“Model? License plate?” Zane prompted, the urgency in his tone clearly flustering the woman.
Brady reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Deep breath. Close your eyes and picture it. How many doors?”
“Two. It was a small sedan. Um... Jackrabbit Rentals. I remember the sticker on the bumper...a bunny with his back feet spinning like he’s running really fast.”
“Good.” Brady nodded calmly, though his heart was racing like the rabbit Zoe described.
“Anything else?” Zane asked, his timbre noticeably more composed, though Brady could see the edgy worry in his friend’s eyes. The flustered, raw desperation matched the scrape of nerves in his own belly.
Zoe shook her head. “Sorry.”
“Give me your cell number, Zoe.” Brady had his phone up, swiping through screens. “I’m going to forward this photo to you. I want you to show it around to people and call me if anyone has information where we can find him.”
While Brady finished up with Zoe, Zane hurried out to his truck. He had the engine running, waiting for Brady when he jogged out.
“Now where?” Brady asked.
Josh emerged from the convenience store next door, and Zane blasted the truck’s horn and slowed while Josh swung up into the cab next to Brady. “No luck in there. I’m surprised that mouth-breather behind the counter can operate the cash register.”
“We have a lead,” Zane said as he pulled onto the road. “Show him.”
Brady angled his phone to let Josh see the photo that the secretary at Piper’s office had texted him. He tapped the screen. “This is our guy. Zoe saw him and described the car he was in.”
“So he is here,” Josh said, gripping the armrest as Zane sped around a corner too fast. “What’s our next move?”
“Motels?” Brady offered while forwarding the picture to both brothers’ phones. “The guy’s from out of town. He’s got to be staying somewhere.”
“Good idea,” Josh said. “Jeez, how many motels do think there are in the county?”
“Not that many, as it turns out.” Zane muttered a curse and braked as a traffic light turned red, halting their progress. “That’s one of the things I researched recently when working out the business plan for the adventure ranch. Only four places have more than five rooms for rent.”
Josh frowned. “What kind of motel has fewer than five rooms?”
“Bed-and-breakfast inns.” Zane twisted his mouth. “Damn it, he could be staying at a B and B. There’s probably a dozen of those.”
“So, we divide up.” Brady glanced to Zane. “Even though it will use time on the front end, it may save us time in the long run for you to take us back to the Double M for more vehicles.”
Zane nodded, though he was clearly no more pleased with the delay than Brady.
“Or have someone bring my truck to us.” Josh rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Maybe Dave could—”
“Sonofabitch,” Zane interrupted. He aimed a finger down the road to the parking lot of the Mountaineer Inn. “Look!”
Brady scanned the property looking for Piper or the creep from her office. “What?”
“The blue car,” Zane said. “Zoe said his rental car was a blue two-door. And the back end of that one is crumpled.”
Josh sat straighter. “The car she hit. The reason she stopped.”
“Bingo.” Brady rubbed his hands on his jeans. “So we bang on doors to figure out which room he’s in?”
“I’m calling it in now to the cops.” Josh had his phone in his hand, his thumb deftly swiping and tapping his screen. “But I don’t plan on waiting for them to show. Piper’s life could be on the line.”
Brady already knew as much, but the reminder of the stakes only spiked his anxiety higher.
Zane grunted. “Didn’t you say this cretin has killed before?”
Josh’s body jerked in alarm. “Say what?”
Brady nodded. “Suspected. Not confirmed.”
“Just the same,” Zane said and pulled into the parking lot of the motel and cut the engine. “Charging in before the cops arrive could be unwise.”
“But Piper—” Josh started.
“I’m just as worried about Piper as you are. We have to be smart about this. We don’t know if he’s armed, or on drugs or what his state of mind is.”
“I think we’ve established his state of mind. He’s been stalking Piper, right?” Brady said.
“Well...” Josh opened the storage compartment in the dashboard of the truck and removed the Smith and Wesson .38 Special Zane kept there. “I don’t intend to take a knife to a gunfight.”
Zane huffed loudly. “Don’t be rash, man.”
“Just a precaution.”
Brady elbowed Josh. “Let me out. The least we can do is show his picture to the desk clerk to be sure we have the right place, then watch his room to make sure he doesn’t leave.” But Brady wasn’t satisfied with doing the least he could do.
Though Zane’s levelheaded caution made sense, Brady couldn’t stand the idea of inaction. Caution was good, yes, but he’d be damned if he’d stand around waiting for the police, while that creep could be doing who knew what to Piper.
He slid out of the truck and motioned to the motel office. “You guys see what the clerk can tell you. I’ll watch the back.”
And by watch the back, he meant snoop from the back. He’d had occasion to use a room at the Mount
aineer Inn a couple of times before. Once when his father had been so drunk he’d been called to pick him up from a local bar. Though not legal to drive, a thirteen-year-old Brady, who’d mastered driving on ranch vehicles by age eleven, had driven his father to the motel rather than risk the McCalls seeing how drunk Roy was. The second time had been prom night with Piper. Thanks to those past visits, he knew the rooms each had a window at the back. He intended to look through each window and do a bit of the same spying Piper’s stalker had employed on her.
* * *
Piper sat on the end of the motel room bed, her hands and feet bound with duct tape. Ken had wrapped the tape exceedingly tight, and her extremities tingled from restricted blood flow. She’d tried a few times to wiggle free of the constraints, but the super sticky binding pulled painfully on her skin if she moved.
Ken was on his cell phone, trying to book them airline tickets to Las Vegas, while he stuffed his clothes back into his suitcase and gathered his toiletries in a rush. “Not good enough. I need something sooner. What do you have going to Reno?”
Piper tried to stay calm. As long as she cooperated with Ken, she could buy time until her family figured out what had happened to her and send help. Surely, by now, someone had discovered her mother’s abandoned car.
“In two hours? Two tickets?” He huffed and flung his ratty old underwear into his duffel bag with a grunt of frustration. “Yes, two tickets! Don’t you listen? One for me and one for my fiancée.”
Piper shuddered at the term fiancée, but if marrying Ken, playing along with his delusion, kept her alive until the police tracked them down, so be it. She could file for divorce—or better yet, annulment—later.
Ken scooped several pairs of socks into his arms while he pinned the phone between his shoulder and ear. After dumping the balled socks into his duffel bag, he zipped it shut and tossed the whole bag near the motel room door.
“No, I don’t want to take a damn customer service survey!” he growled and snatched the phone from his shoulder pinch and disconnected the call with a mad jab of his finger. “Idiots.” He looked up at her and drew a slow breath. “Well, we’re all set. Two tickets to Reno are being emailed to me. Supposedly. If the dumbass at the airline can figure out how to do his job.” He lifted the corner of his mouth in a half smile that sent a shiver through Piper. “But you’re worth the aggravation of dealing with morons.”
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