Game of Fear

by Robin Perini

  “Does your jaw hurt when you get pissed like that?”

  “Let’s go,” Gabe said.

  “Lead on.”

  They walked down the small incline toward the street and made it onto the shoveled sidewalk with only a few near mishaps. The wind had picked up, blowing some of the snow around. The flakes glistened under the glow of the streetlamps, and the black ice shone like glass.

  Gabe slowed down and took her arm. “Guess the street sanders haven’t made it this far yet.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed, “but it’s prettier before they come.” Her feet slipped and he caught her just before she hit the ground. She gripped his arm, the muscles hard beneath her hands.

  “The snow may be prettier,” Gabe added, a chuckle in his voice, “but it’s tougher to walk on.” He hauled her back to her feet. “You okay?”

  She nodded, heat flaring her cheeks. Great. First, they were reduced to talking about the weather, then she almost lands on her butt. Way to impress a guy.

  Not that she wanted or needed to. She’d always been better at being the buddy. Professional necessity. The few times she’d tried otherwise . . . well, it hadn’t been pretty. Problem was, Gabe Montgomery could make any woman stupid. She shouldn’t want more than a friend. She didn’t.

  Right, Deb. Talk about denial.

  A few lights twinkled in the foothills of the mountains to the west and mounds of snow lined the walkways. Winter had come to the Rockies with a vengeance this year.

  Oh, Ashley. Where are you?

  When they reached the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office, Gabe held the door open for Deb. The renovated glass and metal building held every modern convenience, but it was still a cop shop at its heart.

  Gabe waved to the desk jockey in the lobby, who glanced at the clock and raised his brow. “What happened that you’re here at nearly three in the morning? Trouble at the bar?”

  “No, Charlie. Sammy’s is all closed up tight. My friend has a personal issue. Is Neil Wexler in tonight?”

  Charlie smirked. “When isn’t Wexler here? I swear he sleeps at the station whenever his wife’s out of town.” He signaled the detective’s office. “So, what do you want him for?”

  Gabe slid Deb a sidelong glance.

  “My sister’s missing,” Deb said, her fear coming back full force.

  Charlie’s gaze flashed to Gabe. “Wexler is Homicide.”

  The word homicide crumbled something inside her. “Ashley’s missing, not dead.” Deb knew how the stories of missing girls ended. God, she prayed she was wrong. Maybe Ashley had had a brain meltdown and gone with Justin.

  “Calm down,” Gabe insisted. “Wexler was my boss while I was in rehab and on desk duty, so he knows me. He might be willing to do what we want him to do.”

  His gaze spoke volumes. Don’t mention the BOLO in front of Charlie. Don’t rock the boat.

  The phone line lit up, and Charlie answered. After a quick conversation he hung up the receiver and waved them through. “Go on back. Wexler is waiting.”

  Deb sat in Wexler’s cramped office, pausing to hear his reaction to her story.

  Neil leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I’m sorry, Ms. Lansing. Without some sign of a crime being committed, my hands are tied. Your sister hasn’t been missing long enough to even file a report.”

  Gabe tensed. “Deb knows that, Neil, but with the other kid missing, too, it seems like something is up.”

  “Yeah, they probably ran away together.”

  Deb burst from her chair. “Forget this. You don’t believe me and I don’t have time to mess around. I’m going to Colorado Springs and try the cops there. Maybe they’ll listen to me.”

  Wexler pushed away from the desk. “They’re going to say the same thing, but since you both seem so convinced, I’m willing to put out a BOLO on the car. That way, if any cop has a slow night, they can look around for it. Maybe we’ll luck out. What’s the make and model?”

  Deb pulled a paper from her jacket pocket and placed it on the desk. “Here’s all the information. Including color, VIN, and license plate number. The student she borrowed it from said there’s a big dent in the right rear passenger door where another kid hit the car in the dorm parking lot. The upperclassmen’s info is on there, too. Address, phone number, that kind of thing.”

  “This will help.” Neil took the paper and scanned it. “I’ll put the BOLO out tonight. If you have a picture of your sister, I can include that, too.”

  “I have one on my phone. Can I send it to your e-mail?”

  “Send me a copy, too,” Gabe said quickly.

  After texting the photo, Deb waited while Gabe said good-bye to Wexler. Restless, she walked around his office. A black-and-white flyer on his bulletin board caught her attention. It showed the rear end of a banged-up car covered in snow. The plates read POE.

  POE? Like Edgar Allan? Or like Ashley’s game, Point of Entry?

  “What’s that?” Deb demanded, pointing to the flyer.

  Wexler turned and checked out what she’d indicated. “Besides private, you mean?”

  Gabe moved around the desk quickly and pulled the picture down. “Seriously, man, what’s the story with this?”

  The agitation in both their voices must have hit home because Neil snatched the paper and ran his gaze over it. “Came in an hour ago. A chopper pilot reported a vehicle in the same vicinity as another accident. One of the rescuers got a photo of the car. Looks like it’s been out there a decade.”

  “I’m the pilot who reported that car,” Deb said quietly. “I was doing S and R.”

  “Did anyone look inside the vehicle?” Gabe demanded, the words tense and startlingly urgent. “Did they find anything in it?”

  Wexler’s head snapped up, obviously thinking the same thing. “What the hell is going on, Montgomery? What do you know about this wreck?”

  Gabe grimaced, a strange emotion haunting his expression. “I can’t guarantee it’s the same car, but POE is the license plate of a vehicle that disappeared eight years ago. I’ve seen the information about it in my father’s cold case files. Three teenagers were driving to a math tournament in the mountains. They never made their destination and the car was never found.”

  “I guess it has been now. There were three skeletons inside and they’d all been shot.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER FOUR

  * * *

  ASHLEY HUDDLED AS best she could in the back of the SUV. The frigid temperature outside made it so she could barely feel her fingers and toes anymore. Niko kept the heat down really low. She blew against her frozen hands; her warm breath made them sting.

  She tugged at the zip ties binding her wrists, but she’d rubbed the skin raw. She bit back a small whimper. Even the smallest movement burned like fire licking her skin.

  Her head dropped against the carpet. She didn’t bother trying to sit up and look outside. They’d covered her with a blue, heavy-duty plastic tarp. She couldn’t see anything.

  And no one could see her. The vehicle sped down the road. The rhythmic thud of seams in the asphalt pounded into her brain. She had no idea how long they’d been driving. She’d lost all sense of time. It could have been two hours, five, or even eight.

  She shifted her body and her calf muscles seized. She tried to stretch out her legs, but she had to make do with flexing her foot to ease the cramp. She had to go to the bathroom, and her jaw throbbed from her kidnapper’s fists. She hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink since Deb’s and her stomach ached as much as her head.

  Don’t let it get to you. She could almost hear Deb’s voice. Fight.

  She moved her head toward the edge of the tarp, nudging it aside. Maybe she could tell if it was daylight.

  Someone’s fist smashed down on her back. “Smarten up, Lansing. We’ll be there in a few hours. Don’t blow it now.”<
br />
  A few more hours? Where the heck were they taking her?

  The traffic pattern seemed to be more congested, more stop and go. Were they passing through a city? Would they stop to get gas?

  She wished she dared to look out, try to attract attention. Signal for help. They’d have to stop again eventually.

  That might be her last chance to get away. If they opened the back hatch, she had to be ready.

  Snow crunched beneath Gabe’s every step. Even the nonthreatening sound scraped across his edgy nerves the last few feet to Deb’s car. One photo had provided Gabe with more new information than he’d gathered in years of searching. He needed to look at his father’s old case files to confirm his suspicions—that the car contained the remains of Shannon Devlin’s missing teammates—but he had little doubt.

  Deb leaned against her car, silent and obviously distracted. Despite the frigid air, she didn’t move. “I can’t just go home. I’ve got to do something.”

  Her words broke through the eerily silent night.

  Gabe studied her face under the streetlight, her rigid features, the shadows under her eyes. She jiggled her car keys in her hand and he tensed, her uncertainty disconcerting. He’d never seen her as anything but assured in her actions. Until tonight.

  “You planning to head to Colorado Springs?” he asked.

  “What else can I do? I have to find her.”

  He didn’t blame her. If one of his brothers went missing, he’d be tearing the town apart.

  “You’re too tired to drive—”

  She stiffened. “I know my body’s limits.”

  He raised his hands. “Look, I know someone who might help, but he works days.” He gestured to his house. “It’s not that long until dawn. Want to come in?”

  “Come in?” Suspicion laced her words and she stepped back.

  “I know how it is when family’s in trouble.” He didn’t try to touch her. “Let me help. I have some files to check out. Maybe Ashley will call and this will all be over. If not, have something to eat and drink until it makes sense for us to drive to Colorado Springs.”

  “Us?” The words were wary, like she had trouble believing all he wanted was to help and not take her into his arms.

  Gabe led her across the parking lot. “Us. Seems like you could use an ally.”

  For a few seconds she didn’t answer. Finally, Deb sighed, her face marked with worry. “Okay. Thanks. I’m jumping out of my skin. I can’t believe this is happening. Last night, I was talking to her and now—”

  “We’ll find her, Deb.” Gabe unlocked the front door and held it open.

  She went inside, brushing against him—not as an invitation, though. His body thrummed at her nearness, but he’d received her message loud and clear.

  “Do you really think Detective Wexler will do the BOLO?”

  “He doesn’t believe he needs to, but he promised. He keeps his word.” Gabe entered, then closed and locked the door behind him. “Neil is a good guy. He’s a natural skeptic, and not easily swayed by emotion, but we’ve got him curious.”

  “He could bury the request.”

  “He’s a smart detective. He can’t do much officially right now, but he’ll keep an eye out for any related bulletins. Besides, we’ve laid the foundation for Ashley’s case and, if I’m right, provided Neil a lead on a cold one.”

  His house’s warmth took the edge off the cold. Deb headed through the living room and dropped her jacket on the back of the couch. “Why would Neil be so interested in three kids dying near Taos? Were they originally from Denver?”

  “No, but their murder is probably related to an unsolved shooting here. I’m sure Neil’s checking that information now. He’ll look good for making the connection so fast.”

  “If only someone jumps on Ashley’s BOLO that quickly.”

  Gabe shrugged out of his jacket, too, and tossed it next to Deb’s. He kind of liked how they looked together, side by side, not alone. He shoved the romantic musings aside. The moment he’d dragged her into his office, things had changed between them. Yesterday, she might not have even come to him before trying to report her sister’s disappearance. Somehow they’d gone from acquaintances to . . . he wasn’t quite sure what.

  He had to stop thinking this way. She didn’t need a lover, she needed a cop. And despite what everyone believed, he was still a deputy with the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office. He turned to her. “Neil agreed to put your contact info on the bulletin, too. That should help a lot with credibility when you talk to the police in Colorado Springs.”

  “God, I hope so.” She wrapped her arms around herself and looked around his house.

  “Do you want a beer or any food?” he asked in an attempt to distract her as much as anything. He could imagine the horrors going through her mind. She’d seen more than most, but Search and Rescue was like being a cop in a lot of ways. It wasn’t personal. Most of the time.

  “My fridge is pretty bare since I usually eat at the bar, but I can nuke frozen dinners with the best of them or boil up some hot dogs.”

  “A beer would be great,” she said with a sigh. “Maybe it will calm me down a little. My mind is racing.” She hesitated. “Gabe, how do you know so much about the Taos case? That accident happened eight years ago. You would have only been in high school. When I was a teenager, I rarely watched the news, much less knew about anything happening an entire state away.”

  Gabe snagged two beers out of his refrigerator and walked into the living room, trying not to be pleased she’d checked him out enough to estimate his age. Even so, he dreaded the upcoming discussion. And how much to reveal. So many secrets. He chose his words carefully. “My father was in Homicide then. I have some of his old investigative files. One might tie to those kids.”

  After giving Deb her drink, Gabe set his bottle down, then walked to the wall-to-wall bookshelves across the room. He moved several large books on the history of flying. Behind them, he’d hidden the thick expandable folders containing Patrick Montgomery’s final obsession. The notes and materials for Shannon Devlin’s case.

  “You keep all your old police files tucked away for a rainy day?” Deb asked.

  “Nope.” Gabe sat on the couch and set the five-inch bound collection of files on the coffee table. “This case was different for my father. It tortured him. The one he couldn’t solve.” The one involving his daughter. Gabe pulled out some of the folders he’d scoured over the years, whenever he could face the guilt, and opened the most worn manila file.

  Despite Gabe’s familiarity with the contents, the photo of the girl he hadn’t been able to save still haunted him.

  “She looks a lot like my sister, Ashley.” Deb moved in close beside him. “That’s kind of spooky. Who is she?”

  “Shannon Devlin. She came to town eight years ago. Someone gunned her down in the bus station. My father and I . . . were there that night. I was standing next to her, but I couldn’t save her. My father tried to catch the sniper, but he got away. ”

  Deb’s gaze flew to Gabe’s. “Oh my God. No wonder you reacted so intensely to that car bulletin in Neil’s office. If that wreck is related to this case, maybe this is the break the police need to solve it.”

  “I hope so.” Gabe pulled out a few more folders. The base of his neck throbbed, like it always did when he opened this file. These weren’t sheriff’s office files. They weren’t even part of Patrick Montgomery’s official investigations. Gabe’s father had copied all of these materials in secret and continued to investigate on the side.

  Then again, Patrick Montgomery had done a lot of secret things on the side.

  Gabe shoved the bitter memories aside. If his mother ever learned that his father had conceived the daughter she’d always longed to bear with another woman, it would destroy his mom. She’d idolized the man. All Gabe’s brothers did, too.

 
Concealing his anger all these years had made Gabe feel like an outsider sometimes, but he had enough guilt to atone for with Shannon’s death. Tearing apart his family wasn’t going to be one of his sins, so he kept his father’s secret. No one would know from Gabe that the Montgomery brothers had a half sister born less than a year after Anna Montgomery gave birth to the final child she could carry.

  Gabe spread out the manila folders, determined to concentrate on the job at hand. He flipped to the next page in the file. “Take a look at Shannon’s bio. She sounds a lot like Ashley. Intellectually, Shannon was way ahead of her peers.”

  Deb scanned the page. “Wow, she was more than just a good student. Ranked number one in her class—a physics and math brain. Nearly perfect SAT math score. It says that MIT, Stanford, Harvard, and Yale were actively recruiting her.”

  “Shannon was set to graduate early. She’d been heading from her home in Angel Fire to the state math bowl in Taos, New Mexico, and was attacked on the way. The cops might have considered the attack random, except her three teammates didn’t show up, either.”

  “The kids in the POE car?”

  “Yeah.” Gabe opened another folder and turned several pages, until he found the one he wanted. “Here’s a picture of them with the car.”

  Deb leaned in closer, her breath warm on his cheek, her body pressing against him. “That looks a lot like the car on the bulletin. Why are they all wearing black?”

  “They were geeks. According to their parents, they wore black long before Goth became a way of life. With POE on the vanity license plate, people speculated they were fans of Edgar Allan Poe, but the kids’ parents didn’t think so.”

  “You don’t believe it, either.” Deb sent him a side glance. “I can hear it in your voice.”

  “No, I don’t.” Gabe tried to focus, but Deb’s proximity distracted him. His body tensed with awareness. He wanted to grab her hand. This was a story he hadn’t been able to share with anyone since it had happened. He hadn’t realized until this moment how much looking at this file over and over again had worn him down. “One of the boys’ fathers thought it stood for a video game or one of the character avatars. Something like that. Shannon and the guys loved to play video games. She was especially good at it.”