Lucas

by D. B. Reynolds

  “As you know, Max,” she started, “I’ve been trying to track down a photographer who went missing around here a couple of weeks back.”

  Max nodded. “Daniel Hunter,” he confirmed. “Your brother, if I’m not mistaken,” he added with a smug look.

  Kathryn wasn’t surprised he’d made the connection, even though she hadn’t mentioned it to him. Hunter was a common enough last name, after all. But what she knew of Max Sutcliffe already told her not to underestimate him, so she didn’t bother denying it, either.

  “My younger brother, and only sibling, as it happens.”

  “He didn’t tell you where he was going?”

  “Dan sent me his itinerary, including flights and hotel, which is his usual routine when traveling. I’m based out of Quantico, and Dan lives in California, so we don’t see each other as often as we’d like, but we’re close and stay in touch by phone and computer whenever possible. What I know, Max, is that my brother has never, and I mean never in the ten years we’ve lived apart, disappeared like this.”

  “Well, hell, Kathryn. I don’t care how close you are, there’s all sorts of things a man wouldn’t want to share with his sister,” he said, suddenly seeming uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

  “I’m sure you’re right. But not this. A couple days, even a week, I could buy. But Dan wouldn’t go this long without getting in touch. He knows I’d worry, and he knows what I do for a living. He wouldn’t want me calling out the troops if he was just off on a romantic fling,” she finished with a smile that she hoped didn’t look as forced as it felt.

  “I believe you, or at least I believe you believe it. And I’ve checked around some since we spoke last. Last time anyone saw him was at a private club over in Spearfish.”

  Kathryn looked up in surprise. This was new. “A private club? What kind of a private club?”

  Max squirmed uncomfortably, and Kathryn felt a depressing sense of inevitability. Her brother was openly gay, and she had a feeling Max was one of those people who weren’t comfortable discussing—

  “It’s one of those vampire things,” Max finally said in disgust.

  Kathryn’s dismay was replaced by shame that she’d assumed the other. Max’s unease was apparently focused on vampires, not sexuality. And the vampire connection wasn’t a complete surprise to her. The last time she’d spoken to Daniel, he’d mentioned meeting a vampire or two, and said something about a party, which might be the same as the private club Max was talking about. In fact, it was her brother’s comment about the local vampires that had motivated her to set up an interview with the local vampire honcho. Max’s information only made that interview more important.

  “In the last conversation I had with Dan, he mentioned meeting some vampires,” she told the sheriff. “I actually have an appointment to meet with . . .” She checked her notes. “. . . Lucas Donlon later tonight. I understand he’s leader of the local vampires?”

  “Lord,” Max said sourly. “He’s not a bad sort, but he does title himself a vampire lord. His people even call him Lord Donlon, like this was the Middle Ages or something.”

  “I’ve heard that title also. Not about Donlon, but a couple of others. Vamps tend to lie pretty low usually, but the FBI does have some information on them. Mostly from the one or two who live more in the public eye.”

  “Yeah,” Max said glumly, “when I first became sheriff, I ran a check on Donlon and any of his people I could get names for. They don’t have so much as a traffic ticket in South Dakota. Leastways, not that I could find.”

  “Arrests aren’t common,” Kathryn agreed, “but when they do happen, the lawyers come out, and it goes away. These vampire lords seem to have plenty of money, and they’re not afraid to spend it on the right lawyers and politicians.”

  “Why should they be different than any other rich asshole, right?”

  “I’m afraid so. Should be interesting, though, to see how Mister Donlon responds to an FBI investigation, which is quite a bit more serious than a traffic ticket.”

  “I wish you well with that,” Max said, but with so little enthusiasm that she didn’t find it very encouraging. “You got a navigation system in that SUV you rented?” Kathryn nodded, and he continued, “You’ll want to use it going out there after dark. You’ll never find it otherwise.”

  “Thanks, I will. Back to Daniel’s last known whereabouts. I know he planned to do some backcountry camping in the Badlands, but he frequently goes off on his own when he’s working, and he’s an experienced camper.”

  Max opened a drawer, pulled out a full-color brochure of the Badlands, and handed it across the desk. “Ordinarily, something like this, I’d assume he was just another lost camper. There aren’t too many trails in the park, and it’s easy to get turned around, or injured. But I spoke to the rangers at the visitor center. They confirmed that Daniel Hunter stopped to check in with them on his way into the backcountry, and then again when he was leaving the park. And they haven’t seen him since. It makes sense that if he bothered to check in the first time he set out, he’d do it again if he was going back for more. So I’m assuming whatever happened to him, it didn’t happen in the park. Leastways, not in the backcountry.”

  “Would you mind if I talked to the rangers myself?” It was a courtesy question. She didn’t need his permission, but his cooperation would be helpful.

  “Not at all,” Max said readily. “It’s the BenReifelVisitorCenter in the Park Headquarters out on highway two-forty. There’s a small map in that brochure, and road signs will show you the way, too.”

  “Thanks. And what about the witness who saw him leaving the club?”

  “Well, now, that one’s more complicated. He just left on his third tour of Afghanistan two days ago. But I record everything on video these days, more for our protection than theirs, so I can give you a copy of that.”

  Kathryn wanted to scream in frustration. Two days! She’d missed interviewing possibly the last person to see her brother by two measly days! She felt something digging into her fingers and looked down to see her hand gripping the pen so tightly that her fingers were bloodless. She forced her hand to relax and dug up a smile for Max.

  “I’d appreciate that, Sheriff,” she managed to say. “A flash drive would be great if you have it. Or a DVD, if you don’t.”

  “Uh, yeah. Computers and I don’t exactly get along. Henry handles all that. I did ask him to make you a copy this morning, so we’ll see what he came up with. He ought to about have it ready by now,” he added dryly.

  Kathryn took the hint and stood. “Thank you for all your help, Sheriff. If I come across anything else, I’ll let you know.”

  “And I’ll do the same on this end. If you need anything at all, you just give me a call. I’m either here or reachable by cell phone pretty much seven days a week.”

  Kathryn stopped on her way out and picked up a flash drive from Henry. Once back in the SUV, she stowed it in her briefcase to play later. Right now, she wanted to get out to the visitor center at the park. She had little doubt they’d have nothing more to tell her than what they’d already told Max, but she needed to do this her way, and that meant checking off each item personally.

  She did a quick search on her laptop, piggybacking onto the Wi-Fi from the small cyber-café and sandwich shop across the way. Locating the BenReifelVisitorCenter, she studied the map, then shut it down without bothering with the nav system.

  As Max had told her, getting to the park headquarters and visitor center was pretty much a no-brainer. There were signs everywhere and not much in between. Less than an hour later, she was pulling into the parking lot. There were no other cars, just a couple of official pickup trucks. Despite the cool weather, it seemed this wasn’t the park’s busy season. Most people tended to take their vacations in summer, when the kids were out of school. Even the people who didn’t have any kids in school. It made more sense to her to travel when places were less crowded, but maybe that was because she’d
never taken a summer vacation as a child, and so had no preconceived notion of what a vacation was supposed to be. The closest she and her brother had come to a vacation were the summers spent on their maternal grandparents’ farm. But then their grandparents had died within a year of each other when she was only twelve, and that ended that. Nonetheless, her time with them made up some of her fondest childhood memories.

  Kathryn shook herself back to the present. She had no time for memory lane. The visitor center was a typical national park building, a plain single story structure with a concrete walk out front. The interior had the usual displays and dioramas of the park’s history, with racks of brochures for free, and a few glossy books and touristy souvenirs for sale. Kathryn looked them over, thinking about what Daniel had told her in explaining why he’d chosen the Badlands for his next project. He’d said he’d seen a brochure at a friend’s party and had known he could do better. She picked up the free visitor’s brochure which was identical to the one Max Sutcliffe had given her. She wondered if it was also the one that had brought her brother all this way from San Francisco.

  “Can I help you?”

  Kathryn turned to find a young woman with long, brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail and brown eyes with just a touch of mascara. Her face was makeup free, clean and pink-cheeked, as if she spent a lot of time outdoors. The name Belinda was stitched over the pocket of a neatly pressed U.S. Park Service uniform.

  “Special Agent Kathryn Hunter, FBI,” she said, flashing her credentials and hoping none of this ever came back to bite her in the ass.

  “Oh!” the young woman said, frowning a little. “Sheriff Sutcliffe said you’d be coming. You’re Daniel’s sister.”

  Kathryn blinked. “I am, yes. You remember my brother?”

  “He went backcountry twice, and I spoke with him before and after the second trip,” Belinda said, but her already pink cheeks had gone even redder.

  Kathryn smiled at the woman’s reaction. Her brother was charming and charismatic, and had a way of making people believe he really cared. And sometimes he did, even if it was only for the ten minutes he was talking to you.

  “So, how does that work exactly?” Kathryn asked.

  “Everyone’s supposed to check in with us before they head into the backcountry, although, of course, not everyone does. We try to make sure people know what they’re doing. It’s very rough out there in any weather, and hikers are completely on their own. I was a little concerned when I saw Dan was going solo, but after talking with him . . . well, it was obvious that he was an experienced hiker, and he was well-supplied.”

  “But he’d already been out and back once by the time you talked to him, right?”

  Belinda nodded. “He went out twice for ten days each time. That’s a long while to be out there alone, but the time I saw him come back through, he seemed fine. Better than fine, actually. Exhilarated. A little tired maybe, and ready for a shower, but when he left, he said he just wanted a few days of hot running water and good food, and he’d be coming back again.”

  “He was healthy? I mean, no obvious injuries, limping, bandages, that sort of thing.”

  “No,” Belinda said, frowning and shaking her head. “Like I said, a little tired, but other than that, he actually seemed happier than when he went out.”

  “You only saw him come back the once?”

  She nodded again. “The last time he was here. That’s why Sheriff Sutcliffe said you’d want to interview me, because I was the last person he talked to here.”

  “Did Dan check in with you guys the first time he went out, too?”

  “Yes, but I wasn’t here. That’d be Cody Pilarski. We rotate shifts so there’s always someone here.”

  “But you’re sure it was Dan’s last trip when you talked to him.”

  “Definitely. And I sure hope nothing’s happened to him. He was a really nice guy.”

  “He is a really nice guy,” she corrected, emphasizing the verb. Her brother might be missing, but he was still alive. She knew it in her gut. Something terrible had happened, but not the worst. Not yet. And not ever if she had anything to say about it.

  “Thanks,” she said to Belinda. She turned over one of her official business cards and wrote her personal cell number on it. “If you hear anything, or if anyone mentions seeing Daniel, please give me a call.”

  Belinda took the card, glanced down at it briefly, then tucked it into her breast pocket right under her name. “I’ll do that, Agent Hunter. I sure hope nothing’s happened to him,” she repeated, half to herself.

  Kathryn nodded absently as she turned away, her mind already on her next task, the next item she had to check off her list. Everything Belinda had told her coincided with what she knew. Dan had actually called her when he emerged from the backcountry. He’d left a message on her voicemail, telling her he was all right, that he was going to enjoy a few days of civilization and head back.

  When Penny had first called her, saying Dan had missed his regular check-in, the first thing she’d done was access his phone records. Since he traveled to a lot of places where cell service was spotty, he always carried a satellite phone with him, which enabled him to make calls without being within range of the town’s cell tower. She found only one other call after the one Dan had made to her, and that was to Penelope in San Francisco. Unfortunately, Dan also had a tendency to pick up a disposable phone whenever he was in range of a cell signal, using that and then throwing it away, instead of carrying around the more expensive, and heavier, satellite phone. So while Kathryn knew when he’d called her and Penny, she had no way of knowing whom else he might have called locally.

  On the one hand, it was good to know that her brother had been well and happy when he’d left the park two weeks ago. But on the other hand, so far she hadn’t learned anything she didn’t already know.

  She beeped the locks on her rental SUV, opened the door, and then just stood there for a moment, leaning her forehead on the warm metal of the door frame. Her chest ached, and tears threatened as she fought off a wave of despair. If she could find even one clue, a single hint that would tell her what had happened . . . she needed a direction, and she didn’t have it.

  The slam of a truck door behind her had her straightening, blinking away the tears. She turned quickly, afraid someone might have seen her. But there was only a flash of khaki as one of the rangers disappeared through the side door of the visitor center.

  Kathryn drew a deep breath and slid into the driver’s seat, surreptitiously wiping away the few tears. She pulled over her laptop and checked the list she’d already memorized. Next stop was the motel where Dan had stayed. His room was still there, still racking up nightly charges. She’d assured the motel manager on the phone that she would pay for it, although she suspected the motel was pretty empty this time of year anyway. But she didn’t care about the money. She’d just wanted to be sure Dan’s things were left untouched. Maybe that was where she’d find that one clue she was looking for.

  The motel was the only one in town—flat-roofed, one story, and without a single identifying characteristic. Even its color was a boring beige that blended so well into the desert one could probably miss the building entirely on a hot day, with the heat rippling the air. It was a long step down from the type of hotel her brother usually stayed in, although, as with the backcountry camping, Daniel was more than willing to rough it to get the shot he wanted.

  Kathryn parked in front of the office and went inside. The day manager’s name was Jason Kenton.

  “Mister Kenton,” she said, “I’m Kathryn Hunter. We spoke on the phone.” She didn’t use her FBI ID for this one. She was already feeling guilty about that, and it wasn’t necessary in this case since she was paying the bill.

  “Daniel’s sister,” Kenton said, looking up from a cluttered desk behind the check-in counter. He looked groggy, as if she’d woken him from a nap. He stood slowly, stretching out his muscles and yawning without any attempt to conceal it. Kath
ryn waited impatiently until he finally strolled across the six feet separating them and reached for a key hanging on a numbered board.

  “His things are all in there, just like you asked. I haven’t even let the maid clean. Didn’t see much point, and I didn’t want to mess anything up, just in case.”

  “Thanks,” Kathryn said, smiling as she took the key. “I’ll be staying a few days, so I might as well use the room, if that’s all right with you.”

  Kenton shrugged. “You’re paying the bill. Don’t matter to me who sleeps there, as long as there’s nothing funny goin’ on.”

  Kathryn blinked, trying to imagine what sort of funny he had in mind. But her brain was too tired. “Nothing funny,” she assured him. “You ran my card?”

  “Yes, ma’am. No problem.”

  “Okay. Thanks again.” She backed out of the door, feeling suddenly awkward, as if he expected her to stay and talk a while. Or maybe he’d expected her to question him like they did in all the television shows. Whatever it was, she didn’t have the energy.

  She climbed into the SUV and backed down the empty parking lot to room 18. It was an end unit, but other than that it was exactly the same as every other one. She thought Daniel might have requested the end, hoping for a little more privacy and quiet, but like everything else in this case, she was just guessing.

  Her only suitcase was a small, rolling overnighter, so she grabbed it, then locked up the truck and let herself in. She was immediately swamped by a sense of loss. The room was a mess, with dirty clothes tossed haphazardly into an open suitcase on one of the double beds, and still lying on the floor where Daniel had left them. She knew they were dirty, because his clean clothes were all neatly hung in the closet. This was so typical of her brother that it brought tears to her eyes.