Echoes of Terror

by Maris Soule

  They shook his hand before he walked out the door and told him to keep taking his medicine and that he had to report to the police on a regular basis.

  Report to the police. He smiled as he slowly walked down a short hallway. What should he say? “Guess what? I’m back.”

  Bell stopped in front of a closed door.

  Just as before, he’d planned ahead. He’d changed the traditional bedroom door knob so it couldn’t be opened from inside the room without a key. He hadn’t been sure if he’d find what he needed in such a small town, so he’d brought the lock with him. As it was, he could have purchased a similar lock at the Skagway hardware, but the lock wasn’t the only item he’d brought with him, and it was better not to arouse suspicions. He didn’t want anyone remembering his face.

  Slowly, quietly, he unlocked the door and turned the knob.

  When he first arrived at the house, he pulled all of the shades and closed all of the drapes. With this bedroom he took his precautions one step further. Insulation torn from the attic covered the windows, held in place by sheets and blankets tacked onto the frames. Not exactly soundproof—not as good as the cell in his first hive—but the location of the house almost guaranteed no one would hear any screams.

  Bell snapped on a flashlight, its beam creating a narrow band of illumination. He aimed it at the nearest twin bed and let it travel over the occupant he’d so carefully lashed to the old-fashioned metal frame. He’d been lucky. They didn’t make beds like that anymore—strong and sturdy.

  The girl’s eyes were closed, her blonde hair fanned out over the pillow, and her breathing slow and regular. She looked to be sleeping.

  No signs of stress.

  That pleased him. He’d been nervous that morning, worried about the dosage. Too much and the tranquilizer might have stopped vital functions, would have ruined everything. Too little and she would have made a fuss. So far his calculations had been right. She was probably in that half-world of sleep and awake. Groggy. Not quite ready to face reality.

  Soon, however, she would know what was going on.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “She’s convinced her stepdaughter has been kidnapped,” Katherine said the moment she reached Gordon’s desk.

  “And, what do you think?”

  “I don’t know.” But the possibility bothered her. “Mrs. Morgan said there have been newspapers and magazines printing pictures and articles about the girl’s father and how much money he’s worth. Someone might have decided he’d pay well for his daughter.”

  Gordon pointed at the table on the other side of the room. “I finally recognized her. Remember the magazine that worker left here?”

  Katherine walked over to the table where the two-month-old copy of Forbes magazine lay next to a half-empty coffee cup. The magazine had been opened to the picture she’d remembered: a full-length snapshot of Crystal Morgan wearing a fur coat and a slinky, low-cut cocktail dress. The tall, good-looking man standing next to her wore a tuxedo. Together they made a striking couple.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t recognize her immediately,” Katherine said, glancing back at Gordon. “You and Phil were drooling over that picture.”

  “We were not.”

  Katherine smiled and returned to his side. “Mrs. Morgan also said a recent newspaper article mentioned that she and the girl were going to take this trip, including the name of the ship.”

  “Damn.” Gordon shook his head. “That means anyone with a docking schedule would know when the girl would be here.”

  “I think you’d better take over this case.” Simply thinking that Misty Morgan might be the victim of a kidnapper made Katherine uneasy.

  “Oh, come on, don’t tell me a cop from the big city of Kalamazoo can’t handle a kidnapping.”

  “I was a uniform, not a detective.” As if he didn’t know. “You need to handle this.” Please, she almost added.

  He looked at her, and for a moment she thought she was off the hook, but then he shook his head. “No, Mrs. Morgan’s all yours. But I’ll make you a deal. If you decide this really is a kidnapping, we’ll call in the State Troopers and hand the case over to them.”

  “Okay.” At least that way she wouldn’t have a girl’s fate resting in her hands.

  “But, I don’t think this is a kidnapping,” Gordon said. “I mean, why just take the girl and not the wife, too?”

  “The girl did get off the ship before her stepmother.”

  “So, this kidnapper sees an opportunity and takes it? No, I think she’ll show up before the ship’s ready to leave. But, just in case I’m wrong, have Alice get the girl’s picture to the cruise line agencies and to the Canadian border station.”

  “Alice is already on that. She’s also contacting the train station, ferry terminal, and Wings of Alaska, and having ship security check their video logs, just in case the girl did slip back on board.”

  “Good.” Gordon looked back at the computer he’d been working on. “I’ll help when I can, but I’m not getting very far on this paperwork, and still no word from Phil.”

  Which reminded Katherine. “I talked to my grandfather. I’m afraid he couldn’t even remember that Phil was at our place yesterday morning, much less where he told him to go fishing.”

  “Well, if he does remember . . .”

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath. He’s forgetting more and more every day.”

  A look of sympathy touched Gordon’s eyes. “That’s got to be rough on you.”

  “I can handle it.” She wasn’t about to tell him watching her grandfather slip away, bit by bit, was tearing her apart. “When was the last time you heard from Phil?”

  “Tuesday. He said he was going fishing with a buddy and, if they had a good day, he’d have a fish fry this weekend, and we’d all be invited. Any idea who this ‘buddy’ is?”

  “Someone he met recently. I know my grandfather’s met him.”

  “But, you haven’t?”

  “No; I’ve always been at work when Phil and this ‘fishing buddy’ stopped by.” She tried to remember if her grandfather had mentioned the man’s name, but didn’t think so. “You know Phil. Anyone who loves fishing is his buddy. Have you tried calling Phil’s cell?”

  “Cell. Home phone. Radio. I even stopped by his house. No sign of his car . . . or of him.”

  “Something must have happened while he was fishing. Have you alerted the park rangers?”

  “About an hour ago.” Gordon sighed. “Darn it all. This just isn’t like him. I’m hoping nothing’s happened to him.”

  She felt the same way. “Let me know if you hear anything.”

  “I will. Meanwhile, we do have Doug out on his bike. Have Alice call him in and give him a picture of the missing girl.”

  Doug Pierson was their community service officer, a seasonal position with the force. Mostly he rode his bicycle around town, answered questions, and kept an eye on the tourists. Simply having an officer on the streets often averted trouble.

  “I’ll drive around, too,” Katherine said. “And, I’ll take Mrs. Morgan with me. She might spot her stepdaughter faster than Doug would.”

  “If you think it’s necessary. Or I can call Jim in.”

  “No; don’t do that.” Jim Preto was also a seasonal officer and, less than two months before, he’d also become a new father. Ever since the birth of his baby, Jim had been moaning and groaning about how little sleep he and his wife were getting. Though Katherine would admit the young officer looked like a walking zombie, she was tired of hearing his complaints and being forced to admire baby pictures. “Unless something else comes up, I’d just as soon be out, doing something.”

  “What a time to be shorthanded.” Gordon ran his fingers through his thinning hair and looked back at the computer.

  Katherine felt sorry for him. Most days their small force of four full-time officers and two seasonal officers could handle the petty crimes and disturbances that occurred in Skagway. But today wasn’t shaping up like most
days. Today they didn’t need a missing teenager. Especially not the daughter of some rich, influential businessman.

  She started to leave, but Gordon stopped her. “Oh, one more thing. If you do drive Mrs. Morgan around and get over on the Dyea Road, keep a look out for a white bear. Crazy Cora was in here this morning. She said she saw a spirit bear over near the Graysons’ place.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Katherine chuckled. “And she’s sure it was a white bear, not a light-colored cinnamon?”

  Mrs. Cora Tremway, known by the year-round residents as Crazy Cora, had lived in Skagway most of her ninety-plus years. Over those years her hearing had gone bad, and her eyesight was worse than a nearsighted moose’s. She was constantly coming in to report “sightings.” Or, she would call at night—often when Katherine was on duty—to report strange noises. Getting the woman off the phone was a chore, but was better than going to Crazy Cora’s house.

  “You know Cora,” Gordon said. “She insists it was a spirit bear. Says it’s here for a reason.”

  “Yeah, to find food.”

  Katherine had heard stories about the white bears the people of the First Nations called “spirit” bears. According to the Native Americans, the white bears were supposed to be good omens and have magical powers. Katherine, however, preferred the scientific explanation. DNA testing had proved the bears simply to be a variation in color of the black bear. Nothing magical about them.

  “According to Cora,” Gordon said, “seeing a spirit bear means something is about to happen, and she felt it her duty to tell us.”

  “What it probably means is the park rangers are going to have to catch it and move it away from here before it has a confrontation with some tourists. Why was Cora at the Grayson place? Are they back? Have any idea where they went?”

  “No idea.” Gordon shook his head and grinned. “And that had her upset. In Cora’s opinion, we should know where every resident is at all times.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Katherine chuckled. “And, if we kept tabs on people like that they’d say this was a police state. Still, it’s strange the way the Graysons took off without telling anyone.”

  “Maybe they did tell others, just not Cora. This trip must have been something they planned. They did cancel the paper and put their mail on hold.”

  “True.”

  “Oh, and one other thing.” It was Gordon’s turn to laugh. “Cora said she saw a bear driving an SUV. Can you believe that?”

  “A bear?” Katherine repeated. “Where? Where did she see a bear driving an SUV?”

  Gordon stopped laughing and frowned. “Over near the Chilkoot Trail. Her granddaughter was driving her to Dyea.”

  “Did Cora say what color SUV?”

  “No.” Still frowning, Gordon studied her expression. “I didn’t ask. What difference does the color make?”

  “Because as crazy as it sounds, I thought I saw a bear in an SUV near my grandfather’s house just before I came to work.” And, now she wished she’d taken the time to check out that vehicle. “It was parked down the street a ways, but I’m pretty sure it was a Ford Explorer—a red one. What I noticed—more than the bear, if it was a bear I saw—was the vehicle had damage to the bumper and headlight.”

  “Hmm. I thought she was crazy.” Gordon said nothing for a second, simply chewed on his upper lip, then nodded. “Have Doug ride his bike over to your place and check it out.”

  “I will,” Katherine said, but knew before she involved Doug she would do a little investigating on her own. “Meanwhile, don’t you go around telling people I thought I saw a bear driving an Explorer. I’m sure both Cora and I simply saw some bearded, bushy-haired guy who, from a distance, looked like a bear.”

  She heard Gordon chuckle as she walked the short hallway back to the front-office area. Once there, Katherine used the phone in the reception area to call her grandfather. He answered on the sixth ring.

  “You okay, Poppa?”

  “Katherine? Is that you?”

  “Yes, Poppa. Just checking. Is Sarah there yet?”

  “Sarah?”

  She heard the confusion in his voice, and she repeated who Sarah was and why she would be coming.

  “No. She’s not here.”

  “Is there a red SUV parked across the street? It has a broken headlight.”

  He didn’t answer right away, but through the receiver Katherine could hear her grandfather shuffling over to the kitchen window. Finally he spoke. “No vans parked on the street. No cars at all.”

  “Okay, that’s good,” she said, somewhat relieved. “One more thing. Do you remember the name of the man Phil was going fishing with?”

  “What man?”

  “Phil’s new fishing buddy. You said Phil brought him over to the house the other day. Do you remember his name?”

  “I . . . Ah, I . . .”

  Katherine heard her grandfather clear his throat and could picture him struggling to remember the name . . . or even the memory of meeting the man. Finally, she spoke up. “That’s all right, Poppa. It’s not important. Sarah should be there soon, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She decided there was no sense in having Doug check on her grandfather if the Explorer was gone. Their energy needed to be directed toward finding Mrs. Morgan’s missing stepdaughter and discovering what had happened to Phil.

  Alice was off the phone, so Katherine asked, “When was the last time you tried Phil?”

  “Ten, fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Both his phone and his radio?”

  Alice nodded. “I know Gordon stopped by Phil’s place earlier today, but I had Doug stop by again. He said Phil’s cruiser still isn’t there, and when Doug peeked through the windows, he couldn’t see any signs of Phil. This isn’t like him, Katherine.”

  “I know he forgets the time when he’s over at our house exchanging fish stories with my grandfather, but I can’t imagine him forgetting to show up for work. Something must have happened to him.”

  A grin softened Alice’s age-weathered face. “You sure he goes to your house to talk to your grandfather?”

  “Alice . . .”

  In spite of Katherine’s warning tone, the older woman’s grin grew wider. “Honey, I do believe that man is interested in you.”

  “If so, he’s wasting his time.”

  “Aw, come on, Katherine, give the guy a chance.”

  “Sorry.” She’d been over this with Alice too many times. “Not interested.”

  “He’s a nice guy.”

  “I don’t get involved with fellow officers.”

  “Far as I know, you don’t get involved with anyone,” Alice said, eyeing her closely.

  Katherine refused to respond. Alice might want to know what went on in Katherine’s private life, but she wasn’t going to hear it from her.

  Finally, Alice dropped her gaze and once again picked up the phone. “Guess I’d better keep at these calls. So far the tour agencies are a negative. You going to be in there with her?” She nodded toward the interview room.

  “For a little while longer. Why?”

  Alice motioned her closer and in a hushed voice said, “That perfume she’s wearing makes this place smell like a brothel.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Crystal Morgan had a cell phone out, but the way she was glaring at it, Katherine had a feeling something was wrong. “Problem?” she asked as she closed the door behind her.

  “Battery’s dead. I told Misty to plug it in after hers was charged. Obviously, she didn’t. That girl . . .” Crystal looked at Katherine and shook her head. “Well, at least I don’t have to face my husband’s anger for a little while longer.”

  She stuffed the phone into her leather handbag, and Katherine once again got a strong whiff of perfume. She grabbed a tissue before she sneezed. “Once we finish here, you can use the pay phone just outside the entrance.”

  Crystal glanced that way, then sighed. “He’s going to be so upset. Last night I told him he had nothing to worry about, that
Misty was fine.”

  “Did your husband also talk to his daughter last night?” Katherine wondered if he’d said something to upset the girl and make her take off.

  “Yes. She called him. That’s what prompted his call to me. He said she sounded strange, and she told him she loved him.”

  “And that was unusual?”

  “For Misty, yes,” Crystal said. “She and her dad have been banging heads lately.”

  “What else did she say . . . besides her loving him?”

  “Something about how this trip was going to be really rad.” Crystal shook her head. “Why he thought I would know what she meant by that, beats me. Most of the time she treats me like the enemy. As far as she’s concerned, when her mother died, her father should have taken vows of celibacy and never looked at another woman.”

  “How long was it after her mother died that you and her father married?”

  “A couple years.” Crystal’s eyebrows rose. “And, no, we were not having an affair before his wife died. I worked for him, that’s all. We didn’t go out until a year after she died. I think that was more than a reasonable enough time.”

  Katherine had no idea how long was reasonable, but she was curious about the dynamics of the relationship. “If you and Misty weren’t on good terms, why are you on this cruise together?”

  “I thought it would help us get along better.” She forced a laugh. “I honestly thought when Misty changed her mind and said she wanted to go, that spending a week together might make us friends.”

  “But that didn’t happen?”

  “Not so you’d notice.” Crystal straightened in her chair and her gaze drifted toward the closed door. “I wonder if the kidnapper has sent Tom a ransom demand yet. I guess I really should call.”

  “If your husband’s in China, how would the kidnapper know how to contact him?”

  “How should I know? Email. Text message. Or maybe the kidnapper would contact Tom through his office.”

  “If your husband or someone at his office was contacted, wouldn’t you be called . . . to make sure it was true?”