by Traci DePree
“I didn’t say.” He cleared his throat, then glanced at his partner. He held out a photograph for Kate and Rebecca to look at, and Kate glanced at it as she kept one eye on the strangers.
It was a shot of a good-looking young man with a nice smile; deep dimples etched his cheeks. She heard the slight intake of Rebecca’s breath at the same time she recognized the man in the photo. It was Marcus, a few years back, but those dimples were hard to mistake.
“His name’s Mack Kieffer. He’s from back east.”
“Mack Kieffer?” Rebecca echoed. Kate heard the disbelief in her voice.
“What did he do?” Kate tried to make the question sound innocent.
“He’s a friend of ours,” the men said together, but their sarcastic tone gave them away.
Kate didn’t know much at this point, but she could tell they were no friends of Marcus.
“Why would you be looking for him all the way out here in Tennessee? Is he missing?” Kate probed. She studied the shorter man’s face. He had a nervous air about him. His right eye twitched, and the veins in his forehead bulged.
“You might say that.” He said the words as if he had just decided that was his story.
Kate glanced at Rebecca, whose face had gone white.
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca broke in, “but we don’t know any Mack Kieffer.” She shrugged, then stared ahead.
“Is there a number where we can reach you if we do happen to see him?” Kate asked. “Or should I just call the police?” She added the last question hoping it would imply the threat she meant.
The man quickly shoved the photo into his billfold. “No. That’s all right. We got a tip that he might’ve headed this way.”
“So, you’re police officers?” Kate asked.
He cleared his throat, then said in a more official tone, “Uh ...yeah. We’re headin’ up the investigation into Mr. Kieffer’s disappearance.”
“Who reported him missing?” Kate hoped she could get as much detail from them as possible so she could begin her own investigation.
“Uh, that’s classified information,” he mumbled. Then the other man nudged him, and he said, “Thanks for your time, ladies. We’d best be on our way.”
They climbed into the ancient-looking El Dorado and quickly backed out of the driveway. Kate turned to Rebecca, who was staring hard at the dashboard. Kate could see the fear in her eyes.
“I can’t believe they came to the house.” Kate shot a worried look at Rebecca. “This is getting stranger by the minute.”
“No kidding. I don’t know what’s going on,”—Rebecca met her mother’s gaze—“but I’m really scared for Marcus.”
WHEN KATE AND REBECCA checked the front door, they were relieved to find that it was locked. But Kate remembered the men appearing from the side of the house, so she checked the sliding-glass doors in the living room, and sure enough, they were unlocked.
“Let’s check the house,” Kate said nervously, feeling more and more certain that the men had broken in. She pulled a little notebook out of her pocket and jotted down the license plate number so she wouldn’t forget it, then stepped inside.
After a quick perusal of the house, they agreed that nothing seemed out of place. Marcus’ suitcase did look as if it’d been rummaged through, but Rebecca thought he could have left it that way.
Then she remembered her ring. She hurried to the kitchen and looked in the small glass dish on the counter where she’d left it.
“It’s gone!” she said, swinging around toward her mother. “My ring is gone.”
Kate frantically looked around the kitchen, opening cupboards and containers and searching every inch of floor space, hoping that Rebecca had accidentally dropped it. But the ring was nowhere in sight. “Are you sure this is where you left it?”
“I’m positive.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I distinctly remember taking it off to do the dishes last night.”
At that, Kate picked up the phone and dialed the police. Deputy Skip Spencer answered on the second ring.
“Deputy Spencer here.”
“Skip, this is Kate Hanlon.”
“What can I do you for, Missus Hanlon?” the twenty-five-year-old deputy said in a deep voice. Kate was always amazed that someone so young would have such a voice.
“Two men broke into our house,” she said, “and they stole an extremely valuable family heirloom.”
Chapter Seven
Within fifteen minutes, the redheaded deputy was knocking on the Hanlons’ front door. He followed Kate into the living room, where Rebecca was seated on the sofa, nervously wringing her hands together.
“You may remember my daughter, Rebecca,” Kate said.
“I’m sorry to have to see you under these circumstances, Rebecca,” the deputy said. “I mean, I’m happy to see you, but...” Skip awkwardly tipped his tan officer’s hat at her and let his words drift away as he sat down in an overstuffed chair opposite her.
Kate sat down next to Rebecca, suppressing a chuckle at just how attractive her daughter was to the single men in Copper Mill.
The deputy pulled out a small notepad and pen and lifted his face to Kate. “So, tell me what happened.”
Kate twisted her hands together, then reached for Rebecca’s as she started talking. The girl’s face was pale, and she was unusually quiet.
“We’d been gone all morning,” Kate started. “First at church, and at the diner for lunch. After lunch, we took a little drive, and when we got home, two men were here.”
“Can you describe them?” The deputy was busily taking notes.
Kate described the taller man with the cleft in his chin and the shorter, stocky man with the pigeon-toed stance. Then she described the blue El Dorado with the New Jersey plates. She handed Skip a slip of paper containing the plate numbers that she’d written down when she and Rebecca had first entered the house. She glanced at her daughter and realized that Rebecca was shaking her head.
“I’ve seen those men before,” Rebecca said, looking up.
“I was just going to say that,” Kate put in. “We saw those men snooping around my daughter’s rental car while we were at the diner today. And last night they were at the Bristol while we were having supper. They didn’t stay. They just kind of looked around the restaurant, then left.”
“No,” Rebecca said. “I mean I’ve seen them somewhere else too.” She scrunched up her face in thought. Then she shook her head. “I just can’t remember where.”
“Could you tell if they’d been inside the house?” Skip asked.
“They walked around from the side of the house when we first pulled up,” Kate said, “and the sliding-glass door in the living room was unlocked. And with the ring missing, I can only assume they were inside. It doesn’t make sense, really, because they approached us so casually and said they were looking for someone.”
“Do you know who?”
Kate exchanged a look with Rebecca, then nodded. “They showed us a picture of Marcus, Rebecca’s boyfriend.”
“But they called him by another name,” Rebecca added. “They called him Mack Kieffer, but the man in the photo was definitely Marcus.”
“Hmm.” The deputy wrote down the two names, then tapped the pen against his chin. “Did you recognize the name? Has anyone ever called him Mack that you know of?”
Rebecca shook her head. “No. Never. And when we saw the men last night...” Her words fell away, and Kate wasn’t sure whether she was deciding exactly what to tell the officer or whether she was afraid of the implications of her revelation.
Finally Rebecca went on. “Marcus practically bolted from the table to go to the bathroom. It was like he was afraid of something. Of them.”
“So, you’re telling me that you think this is more than just theft?” Skip raised an eyebrow.
Rebecca shrugged. “Maybe...I don’t know. Marcus seemed so unnerved after he saw them. I’ve never seen him like that before. I asked him about it when we got home last night, but
he wouldn’t talk. He just said he was really looking forward to leaving with my dad. Something about it being safer for me.”
Her eyes searched her mother’s. “What could he have meant by that?”
Kate squeezed her hand, and Rebecca closed her eyes.
Kate picked up the story from there. “The strangers did say that the man in the photo had disappeared.”
“Could someone have reported the disappearance of Marcus or”—he looked back through his notes—“Mack Kieffer?” Skip looked at Rebecca. “Maybe someone didn’t know you were leaving town and reported your boyfriend missing. You did come here unexpectedly, correct?” Apparently even deputies were privy to the gossip mill in small towns like Copper Mill.
“Of course,” he continued, “that doesn’t explain why those men called him Mack Kieffer.”
“I told our boss that we were taking off, so it wouldn’t have been anyone at work,” Rebecca answered. “But maybe his mom had been trying to get ahold of him and got concerned.”
“Do you have her number?”
Rebecca shook her head. “No. I haven’t even met her yet, and I don’t have any of that information.” She reached for a cup of coffee that sat cooling on the table and took a tentative sip. “This just doesn’t add up. Surely his mom would’ve called his work if she was worried.”
“Oh, and the men also said they were police officers, though it was obvious they were lying,” Kate remembered.
“Did they now?” That seemed to set the deputy on edge. “Were they wearing uniforms? Did they show you their badges?”
“No.” Rebecca tapped her fingers on the edge of a bright red throw pillow that she was holding on her lap. “They said they were heading up the investigation into his disappearance.”
Kate nodded, and Rebecca turned to her mother, fear lingering in her gaze. “But why would they call Marcus ‘Mack’?”
“Maybe Marcus is his stage name,” Kate offered. “Don’t actors change their names all the time?”
“That’s true.” Rebecca paused, as if wanting to be satisfied with the explanation.
“But the good news is, Marcus is safe with Dad,” Kate said, turning to the deputy. “Paul and the men left just a few hours ago. They probably aren’t even set up at their campsite yet.”
Skip scrolled through his notes. “What did you say the ring looks like?”
Rebecca reached for his pen and notepad and drew a picture of the sapphire-and-diamond ring.
“Thanks, Rebecca.” Skip wrote a few more notes before looking up. “I’ll look into that license-plate number. See if those men show up in town. Also, to cover all our bases, why don’t you look around the house some more to make sure the ring wasn’t just misplaced. Maybe it’ll show up. In the meantime, I’ll put out a description of the car and men. You might also want to try to get ahold of your husband, Missus Hanlon.”
AFTER SKIP HAD LEFT, Kate dialed Paul’s cell-phone number, but it immediately went to voice mail. Rebecca tried Marcus’ number, but she got a recorded message as well.
“No news is good news, right?” Kate offered, but the tense expression on Rebecca’s face remained.
“I can’t believe Gran’s ring is gone!” she moaned. “I should never have worn it.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Kate assured Rebecca. “We’ll get the ring back.” But even as she tried to assure her daughter, she felt a twinge of fear. If these men really did steal the ring, they weren’t going to just hand it right back.
THE DEPUTY HAD BEEN GONE less than half an hour when the phone rang.
“Missus Hanlon,” he began.
“Yes, Skip,” Kate said, glancing at Rebecca, who had been pacing the room but was now staring at her mother.
“I ran those plates. That El Dorado was reported stolen from Atlantic City, New Jersey, two days ago.”
Kate’s pulse quickened at the news. “So, what does that mean?”
“It means that if you see those men again, call 911.”
“Any idea who the thieves are?”
“There wasn’t anything in the police report. Just that the car was taken from a casino parking lot. I’ve put out an APB in case they head out for the Smokies, but that doesn’t seem real likely since they didn’t know where your daughter’s friend went.”
“And there was no missing-person’s report filed on Marcus?”
“No, ma’am.”
Kate thanked Skip for the information, and he promised to call if there were any developments.
Kate hung up the phone, looking thoughtful, and Rebecca waited for her mother to talk.
“The car was stolen,” Kate said.
“That’s just great,” Rebecca said. She sat down and cradled her head in her hands. “This is so frustrating! Marcus could be in real trouble, and there isn’t a thing I can do about it.”
“We don’t know that he’s in trouble. We didn’t tell the men anything about where he is. And even if they are looking for him, how could they find him in the middle of the woods?”
Rebecca shrugged, then seemed to relax. “Maybe you’re right,” she said.
Kate lightly touched her daughter’s cheek. “The police are keeping an eye out for the car, and they have our description of the men. Surely we would have heard by now if anything had happened.”
Rebecca chewed on her lower lip. “Yeah, let’s hope that’s the case.”
“The guys are probably having a wonderful time getting to know each other and have no idea what’s going on.”
Chapter Eight
There was nothing quite like a day filled with vigorous activity and delicious flame-fed burgers to make a man feel content. The sun had dipped below the western hills of the Smoky Mountains a good hour earlier, and darkness had begun to take its full hold on the campsite. A faint silhouette of the treetops was barely visible against the late-September night sky, and stars were beginning to twinkle here and there.
Paul and the rest of the campers gathered around the campfire as the embers sparked and crackled. James Jenner had picked up his guitar and was strumming it quietly while the men roasted marshmallows and drank hot coffee. The glow of orange flames lit their faces.
Paul glanced at Marcus, who seemed to be enjoying himself. He was eating s’mores, a gooey campfire treat he said he’d never had before, and talking with Justin Jenner on the far side of the fire. Something the boy said made Marcus laugh.
Paul had watched Marcus throughout the day, ever conscious that this was a young man his daughter cared deeply for.
“Did anyone else hear that rustling in the brush during our hike today?” Justin Jenner asked, breaking into Paul’s musings. “I think it was a bear.”
“It was not!” his older brother said, pausing in his strumming. “You just want to see a bear.”
Marcus shot Paul a worried look across the glowing fire. “Bears?”
“Yes, there are black bears in these mountains. But they’re more afraid of us—”
“Than we are of them,” everyone finished in unison, laughing.
“Okay, okay.” Paul held up his hands. “There are a few things we can do to be safe. We need to make sure we don’t leave any food out or even anything that has a scent, like that dish soap.” He pointed to a green bottle near the wash tub in the kitchen area. “Let’s put it in the back of the van between meals. And the cooler can go there too.”
Justin got up to put the items away as Paul instructed.
“I thought we were supposed to tie food up in the trees,” he said when he returned to the campfire.
“That’s only if you’re hiking in the backcountry and don’t have something handy like a van,” Paul said. “Bears can smell food from a great distance, and if people start to feed them, they become a nuisance and a danger...”
“Great!” Justin said.
His brother rolled his eyes, and the men laughed at the boys’ banter.
“So, what’s the game plan for tomorrow, Paul?” Eli Weston asked.
/> Paul took a long sip of his hot black coffee before replying. “Newfound Gap Road and Alum Cave are first on my list.” He pulled out one of the many guidebooks he’d purchased and opened it on the picnic table under the bright glow of a Coleman lantern. “We could also take Rainbow Falls Trail if we want, or we can hike the Alum Cave Trail. Says here it’s 4.6 miles round-trip.” He raised his head to exchange a look with Sam, who had leaned back in his camping chair, his face turned to the dark sky.
“I can handle it,” Sam replied to the unspoken question. “Or you can carry me.” Sam was a bit overweight and had had some heart trouble.
Paul smiled as he read on. “If we continue on to Mount LeConte, it’d be another 2.7 miles each way. It’s the third highest point in the park, and there’s a lodge in that spot that’s supposed to be spectacular.”
“That sounds cool,” Justin said.
Paul glanced at Justin’s brother, who seemed to be in his own world. He’d been moody all day, and Paul wondered what was going on with the young man.
“Says here,” Paul read on, “that the Epsom Salts Manufacturing Company used to mine the saltpeter at Alum Cave Bluff but eventually gave up because it was too expensive. Then during the Civil War, the Confederacy used it to manufacture gunpowder.”
“Gunpowder!” Justin echoed, rubbing his hands together. “Now that’s educational.”
“We’re not going to be mining any saltpeter,” Danny Jenner said with a grin.
Eli got up to stoke the fire. He poked at the blaze with a long stick to realign the burning remains, sending up a spray of sparks, then he added several split logs to the fire.
Sam asked James for the guitar. The teenager handed it over, and Sam began to strum until a familiar melody met Paul’s ears. Sam sang softly, “Just a closer walk with thee. Grant it, Jesus, is my plea.”
The others joined in.
Paul’s gaze shifted to Marcus. He wasn’t singing or even making eye contact with anyone in the circle. He looked at the ground, and Paul could see the shimmer of a tear trailing down his cheek. Paul found Marcus a fascinating study in contrasts. He could be struck with awe at the beauty of creation or, like that evening, visibly moved by a worship song. But he also seemed to be a nervous guy. Paul wondered if the young man was as cautious with Rebecca, or whether he was able to let his guard down with her and show her a part of himself that no one else saw.
