by Maris Soule
“Yes.” Nanini pulled two glossy four-by-six photos from the briefcase he’d brought with him. “I printed his off the Internet, along with the one Misty posted. Our young lady was passing herself off as an eighteen-year-old college student, and, as you can see, in this picture, she does look that old.”
Katherine took the two pictures. Mr. Brian Bane looked like a nice, clean-cut college boy; however, pictures posted on the Internet weren’t always the true images of the person posting the messages. More than one pedophile had been snared by officers posing as young children.
“I checked the guy out,” Nanini said. “He is who he says he is. In the last message between them, Bane told Misty he’d meet her in front of the city visitors’ center at seven this morning, that he’d be driving a rusted, green and silver Chevy Blazer. I’ve got the license number.”
He pulled out his wallet, found a slip of paper, and handed it to Katherine.
A green SUV. The color wasn’t uncommon, but it was the second time the color green had been mentioned in less than an hour. She wondered if this Blazer might also have some dents, with perhaps traces of red.
“We’ll get this license plate number out to all of our officers,” Katherine said. “I assume Canada customs also has this information.”
“They do.”
“So, Mr. Nanini,” Crystal said, a self-satisfied arrogance in her tone. “Any idea where my darling stepdaughter might be?”
Katherine had Alice call the hotels, lodges, and bed-and-breakfast places in Skagway along with the Chilkoot Trail outpost in Dyea. With each, she had Alice ask the same question. “Do you have a blonde female in her late teens or a brown-haired male in his early twenties registered, either together or separate?”
The answer was always the same. “No.”
Alice also checked with each establishment to see if they had any rooms available. Crystal had already said, with the cruise ship gone, she would need some place to stay. Vince Nanini had indicated, if necessary, he could sleep on the plane he’d flown into Skagway.
For a while it looked like Crystal Morgan might have to sleep in one of the station’s two cells, but finally Alice smiled. “The Bonanza has a last-minute cancellation.”
Gordon returned from Dyea, clipboard in hand, and Katherine introduced him to Vince Nanini. She wasn’t surprised when the man started talking to Gordon as if she wasn’t there. As Nanini summarized what he knew about Misty Morgan, his attitude clearly indicated he now expected Gordon to take over the search for the girl. Gordon’s response, however, didn’t please Katherine any more than it obviously did Nanini. “Officer Ward is in charge of that investigation,” Gordon said. “I’m sure she’ll keep me up to date on her progress.”
He then started for the back of the station, and, for a moment, Katherine didn’t know what to say. If this had been a kidnapping, she would have willingly endured a chauvinistic ass like Nanini. But Misty Morgan hadn’t been kidnapped. She was simply a rich kid who’d run off with a boyfriend.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, motioning for Vince Nanini and Crystal Morgan to stay where they were.
Gordon had grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and was about to settle into his chair when Katherine caught up with him. “I think you should handle this case,” she said, keeping her voice low.
He glanced past her, at the hallway that connected their offices to the front office. The layout of the station gave a more open feel to the building’s limited space, but it also allowed voices to carry. In a way that was good, especially if there was a disturbance in the front area. Anyone on duty could react immediately. But there were disadvantages as well.
Gordon also kept his voice low. “What’s a matter, Katherine? You gonna let that guy scare you off?”
“That guy,” she said, “can stick his attitude where the sun don’t shine. He’s not the problem.”
“Then what is?”
She wasn’t sure how to explain without revealing too much. “Gordon, we’re dealing with some nationally known rich guy’s spoiled brat. How long do you think it will be before the media catches on that she’s missing? How long before reporters show up in Skagway?”
“So?”
“Be honest. Do you really think I’m the best person to deal with reporters?” She hoped her past behavior would convince him she wasn’t.
“Katherine, if this goes national, whether you’re in charge of the case or not isn’t going to matter. We’re all going to be dealing with the media.”
Not what she wanted to hear.
“So, find the girl before it does go national.”
“But—”
“No buts. Find that girl.”
Resigned to the inevitable, Katherine turned to walk back to the front office, but before she’d taken two steps, Gordon asked, “Don’t you want to know about that Explorer over in Dyea?”
She stopped where she was. “What’d you find?”
Gordon placed the bottle of water and clipboard he’d been carrying on his desk and pulled out a small digital camera. “Take a look.” He clicked on the camera and brought up an image. She came closer, and he handed her the camera. “This the same Explorer you saw parked in front of your place?”
He’d taken several pictures of the vehicle, some from a distance and some close up. Katherine scanned through all of them, going back to the one that showed roughly the same angle she’d seen when leaving her house. “Looks the same,” she said.
“I dusted for fingerprints, but didn’t find any. Not even those belonging to the vehicle’s owner.”
That in itself was unusual. “Someone wiped it down?”
“Must have.” Gordon removed an evidence bag he’d attached to his clipboard, and opened it. “Here’s your bear.”
Katherine took the bag and looked inside. She could see a tuft of dark brown, almost black, synthetic hair. “Vehicle’s owner said he didn’t know where that came from. He’s not happy about this. Said he’ll be at the campground tonight, but he’s heading for Whitehorse tomorrow. He’ll get the headlight fixed there.”
“And you’re sure he wasn’t driving when the accident occurred?”
“His buddies vowed they’d all been on the trail for the last three days, and the way they looked and smelled, I believed them.”
“How’d someone just drive off with his SUV? Did he leave his keys in the ignition?”
“Almost as bad,” Gordon said, shaking his head. “The kid left a sign on the windshield that they’d be gone until late today. He said he did that so if they didn’t make it back, someone would come looking for them. Oh, and he also used one of those magnetic hide-a-key gadgets. Had the key under the front fender. Our bear-man must have seen the sign, found the key, and gone for a joy ride.”
“So why was bear-man parked on my street?” she asked and handed the bag back.
“Coincidence?”
The way he said it, Katherine knew Gordon didn’t believe that any more than she did.
“I’m going to download these pictures and make some prints. Maybe someone in town will remember seeing the truck today. Still no word from Phil?” Gordon asked.
“Not a peep.”
“I think we’d better alert the park rangers. Only reason I can think of why he hasn’t called in is he’s hurt.”
She’d been thinking the same thing. “I’ll have Alice call them before she goes home.”
“Good.” He picked up his bottle of water. “Let me know if you do hear from him . . . or if you find the girl. And get rid of those two. The guy may work for the girl’s father, but he has no authority on this case.”
“You want me to tell him to get lost?” Katherine smiled. “Oh, he’s going to love that.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Bonanza was a restored, two-story Victorian that a couple of newcomers had recently opened as a bed-and-breakfast. Like so many of the buildings in Skagway, the house looked much the same as it had when Skagway was the boomtown gat
eway to the Trail of ’98 and the Klondike gold fields. The differences between what the lodging would have been like back then and nowadays were running water, indoor plumbing, TVs, radios, telephones, and maybe even the Internet.
Katherine took Vince Nanini along when she drove Crystal over. He hadn’t argued when she’d told him there was nothing more he could accomplish at the station, and he hadn’t said one word about wanting Gordon in charge of the case. Katherine figured she’d drop Crystal off at the bed-and-breakfast, and then take Nanini to the airport.
Crystal frowned when Katherine pulled up in front of the Bonanza. “I guess it will do,” she said. “At least it will give me a chance to rest. Freshen up.”
Nanini unloaded Crystal’s luggage from the back of the Tahoe. “If we find Misty before it gets too late,” he told the blonde, “I’ll come by and pick you up, then fly both of you back to Seattle.”
“In what?” Crystal asked as she retrieved her carry-on bag. “That puddle jumper you think is so great?”
“The King Air is a good plane.”
The blonde rolled her eyes, and then looked at Katherine. “My husband has a fleet of planes, some of them absolutely fantastic to fly in, but what does this guy fly? A stripped down, crappy turbojet you practically have to crawl into.”
“Then stay here after we find her,” Nanini said and started to get back into the patrol unit.
“Hey,” Crystal yelled. “My bag.”
For a moment Katherine thought he would ignore the order. Finally, he gave an exasperated sigh and grabbed the suitcase Crystal had taken off the ship.
Katherine smiled and walked back around to the driver’s side. It was good to see a chauvinist kowtow to another woman. Something about that man had irked her from the moment she met him. His attitude, she supposed. Body language often spoke louder than words. Both Crystal Morgan and Vince Nanini thought they’d stepped into a small-town, backward police department with an officer who wouldn’t be able to find the nose on her face, much less Thomas Morgan’s daughter. Well, she’d show the two of them.
She’d just clicked her seatbelt into place and slipped her key in the ignition when the passenger door opened and Nanini, absent bags and Crystal, slid into the Tahoe. “I think we should check the campgrounds,” he said before even closing his door.
She shook her head. “There is no ‘we.’ I’m taking you to the airport.”
“That will only waste time. I don’t need anything from my plane and the sooner we find Misty, the sooner I can get back to my real job.”
“You’re not going with me.” This wasn’t something she was going to argue about. “If we learn anything, I’ll let you know.”
“If you think I’m going to sit around, waiting to hear from you, you’re mistaken. Either we do this together or we waste time duplicating efforts.” He clicked his own seatbelt into place.
“You get in the way of our investigation, and I’ll arrest you.”
“I’m not going to get in your way. I know what Misty looks like. I’ve memorized that Bronco’s license. You drive, I’ll look.”
She wasn’t buying his argument. “Why this passionate interest in finding this girl?”
“I told you; I’m her godfather. I’ve watched this kid grow up.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want Tom losing his daughter, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“I lost my own daughter when she was just four.”
She heard the change in his voice. A slight catch, and it made her curious. “What do you mean, ‘lost your daughter’?”
“She died of cancer. Now, are we going to sit here and discuss my life story or are we going to look for Misty?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Vince held his breath, unsure what the woman seated next to him would do next. She obviously didn’t want him around. She’d even inched away when he slid onto the front seat, almost as if she were afraid of him.
“I promise I won’t get in the way,” he said. “I think the sooner we find Misty the better. I’m sure she’s doing this to get back at her father. Ever since he married Crystal, Misty has been upset with him. I’m sure this is just her way to gain his attention, but I don’t think she’s really thought this all the way through.”
“She thought it through well enough that we haven’t been able to find her,” Officer Ward said.
He’d concede that. “Since they haven’t tried to cross into Canada and aren’t staying in a room, they’ve got to be in one of the RV campgrounds. I mean, from what Misty posted on-line, Bane has to have arrived expecting to have sex with her. I’m guessing he either brought a tent or his Blazer’s been rocking all day.”
“Or, he has a friend who has a place here.”
“Bane never mentioned a friend in Skagway.”
“I’m sure our dispatcher has already called the campgrounds.”
“And, that’s it? You’re going to depend on a phone call?”
He saw her bristle. “After I drop you off, I plan on personally checking each of them.”
“There’s what, three in town, one out in Dyea? We drive through, either you or I spot a green Blazer, case closed.”
“And, then what?”
“We pick up Crystal, I fly the two of them back to Seattle, and Daddy grounds his little girl for life.”
“It wouldn’t be quite that simple.”
He didn’t think it would.
“She’s under-age.”
“She duped the poor guy.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“So, you go by the book.”
“It’s the only way to survive.”
Nanini shook his head. “Life should be more than simply surviving.”
She scoffed, but he noticed a slight smile as she reached for her radio. “I need to let our dispatcher know where I’m going.”
While still in Seattle, waiting for his plane to be gassed and prepped for the flight, Vince had studied several tourist brochures about Skagway. He knew the Pullen Creek RV Park was located on the waterfront just off Congress Way, close to the railroad depot and downtown Skagway. According to what he’d read, its proximity to an array of shops, bars, eating places, and historical sites made it a popular destination in the summer.
Officer Katherine Ward drove slowly through the park, both of them looking for the Blazer in front of, beside, and behind the RVs and tents. She stopped the Tahoe often, showing Misty’s and Brian’s pictures to the campers walking or sitting out in the open. One woman said she’d seen a blonde, teenaged girl and a young man who might have been twenty. They’d had their backs to her, so she couldn’t be certain they were the two in the pictures.
It turned out to be a false lead. The brother and sister were traveling with their parents. And, no, they hadn’t seen anyone who fit Misty’s or Brian’s description.
After Pullen Creek, Officer Ward drove them to the Garden City RV Park, and they repeated the procedure. Then on to Skagway’s Mountain View RV Park. In each location, they showed anyone they met Brian’s and Misty’s pictures and described the green and silver Blazer. No matter how many times they repeated the routine, the answer was always the same. No one had seen either of the two.
Vince could tell Officer Ward was disappointed with their efforts. Through all three parks, she’d said little—asked no questions of him, made no comments, and generated no small talk. Before exiting the last RV park, she pulled her cruiser to the side, leaned back against the vehicle’s seat, and gave a frustrated sigh.
“On to Dyea?” he asked, hoping she wasn’t about to give up the search.
She glanced his way, nodded, and again straightened in her seat. “I guess so. But before we drive over there, I need to check on my grandfather.”
“Is he ill?” He wanted her concentrating on a missing teenager, not an ailing grandparent.
“No, he’s fine. He just forgets things sometimes.”
“How old is he?”
“Almost ninety.”
> “Alzheimer’s?”
“Probably.” She glanced his way. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. One out of every five people over the age of eighty has it.”
“Fine. I still don’t want to talk about it.”
Vince had a feeling there were a lot of things this woman didn’t want to talk about. Nevertheless, he wanted to know where they were headed. “Is he in a nursing home?”
“No.” She gave a slight shake of her head. “We don’t have any of those in Skagway. I’ve asked a neighbor girl to help him in the evenings. Tonight’s her first night. This won’t take long. I just want to make sure everything is working out all right.”
“Okay.” He didn’t know what else to say. Although finding Misty was his first priority, he figured saving the girl’s virginity was a lost cause. If he’d known what was up in time to stop this harebrained idea of hers, maybe he could have convinced her that jumping into bed with some guy she’d met on-line was no way to gain her father’s attention. As it was, too many hours had passed since her planned rendezvous. Plenty of time for a randy male to talk a horny teenager into doing the deed.
Vince couldn’t see anything wrong when they neared the small, yellow cottage with the green trim, but he could tell Officer Katherine Ward did. Her “Hmm,” was accompanied by a frown, and the moment she’d parked her Tahoe in the driveway, she released her seatbelt and opened her door.
Vince followed her to the side of the house. An old man stood back by a row of rose bushes, the hoe in his gnarled hands barely digging into the soil at the base of one of the bushes. “Poppa,” Katherine said as she neared him. “I thought you’d be inside, watching the ball game.”
Her grandfather looked at her, a slight frown touching his brow. “Is it that late?”
“Yes, it’s that late.”
The old man’s gaze turned to Vince, the wrinkles across his forehead deepening. “Do I know you?”
“Poppa, this is Vince Nanini,” Katherine said. “He’s helping me look for a girl. Did Sarah fix your dinner?”
“Sarah?”
