Vanished in the Mountains

by Tanya Stowe

  He lifted the file. “You didn’t have to show me this.”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes...I did. Because there’s one more thing you should know.” She licked dry lips. “I’m not so sure I won’t do it again...cross the line, I mean. I couldn’t live with myself if I lost more little girls.”

  All the passion inside Austin froze. She was talking about herself and didn’t know she’d just put his own unspoken emotions into words. He couldn’t live with himself if he lost something—someone—else, including a copper-headed woman with dark passion hiding behind her gaze.

  The thought of Dulcie endangering herself, continuing to put her job and maybe even her life in danger for these women made his instincts flare like live wires. He dropped the file down on the table. “I hope you mean that because it looks like you’ve already put your life on the line.”

  * * *

  Dulcie stiffened as Austin slammed the file shut. A frown creased the spot between his eyebrows and when he was angry, that little cleft in his chin twitched. She’d noticed it before, almost the first time they’d met when he was questioning her about Judy Begay and her relationship with her stepfather. That little twitch was a sign for Dulcie. Austin might try to act like he didn’t care, but he did...deeply, and for that reason, his anger didn’t frighten her.

  He raised a tense gaze to hers and lifted the folder again. “It also says in here you handled twenty-five cases in the three years you worked with this shelter. They gave you this file and made a point of saying how well you had performed before this incident. That tells me they wanted to help you any way they could. What happened, Dulcie? Why did this case make you snap?”

  She took a deep breath. “The two little girls reminded me of my sister and me.”

  It was hard to talk about it. But she had to tell him. She needed to make him understand. “My dad was a well-respected professor, a very popular teacher. But at home he was a monster. Anytime something fell short of perfection, he took it out on my mother. My sister and I would hide in our closet. Then one day my sister spoke up and he knocked her across the room.”

  Dulcie swallowed. “As soon as he left for work, my mother packed our bags. I remember her hands trembling the whole time. We took a taxi to a shelter. They helped my mother file a restraining order. Then they found her a job and gave us counseling. I wouldn’t be here if not for that shelter. That’s why I do what I do. I wouldn’t have a life if not for someone who cared enough to be there.”

  His voice was low and maybe still angry. “So now you have to be that person. The one who cares.”

  She nodded. “I worked hard to have a normal life, to overcome my fears and walk in the world with my head held high. I thought I was over my past. But that encounter with the little girls, and now this letter... They both sent me spiraling back again. They made me feel like a helpless child and I don’t like that feeling.”

  Austin looked at the file, avoiding her gaze. But his jaw clenched and a muscle twitched. He didn’t like what was happening any more than she did. That assuaged her fear.

  “I know you care, Dulcie. You didn’t have to show me this.” He lifted the file.

  She licked her lips and shook her head. “That’s not why I gave it to you. I just wanted you to know it’s not personal. I...I have a hard time trusting people, but I do trust you...as much as I’m able. Do you understand?”

  He leaned back on the sofa and was silent for a long while. “Yes, I think I do.”

  He placed his elbows on his knees and linked his fingers. He had strong hands. They looked like they could handle anything. They made her feel safe. He made her feel safe. That was a new and startling feeling. She had a hard time growing close to anyone, and feeling secure with someone was way out of her experience. Austin Turner was sending her down new paths.

  His amazing, strong jaw tightened even more, making the cleft twitch. “Look, I’m not going to lie to you. I didn’t want to get involved. I still don’t. My wife was a part of the Navajo Nation. I...”

  His voice broke and he looked away. “I lost her and my unborn child to a drunk driver three years ago. I came here to get away. The last thing I want is to get involved in anything like this.”

  Shock waves swept over Dulcie. She didn’t know he had suffered such a loss, and from the look on his face, he was still suffering. Three years and he was still in pain. She should have known, should have recognized that kind of pain, the kind of fear that held one back and kept a normal life in check. And yet, another very strong emotion had pushed him out from behind that wall. What was it?

  “Why did you get involved? Why did you agree to help me?”

  He looked up and his blue-eyed gaze was as cold as steel. “The fact that someone in the force is using their power to keep you quiet. I won’t stand by and let corruption tear down the department. The men I’ve worked with... Most of them are good officers, good men. Whoever is behind this needs to be stopped. I won’t let them destroy the only thing I still care about.”

  She took a deep breath. “I understand. I never thought I’d work in social services again. I was certain I’d end up a clerk in some government office. Vonetta knew my history, the whole story and hired me anyway. I was so thankful for the second chance, but now I’m right back in the same place. I’ve crossed a line I didn’t even know was there.”

  Austin was silent for a moment. “Did you ever think there’s a possibility Vonetta hired you because of your past?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Anyone who has met you knows you’re passionate about the women you serve. She probably suspected you would cross lines again and that willingness would make you the perfect person to blame if things went wrong.”

  Cold trickled through Dulcie and she stared at him.

  “Don’t look so surprised. These people, whoever they are, are powerful. They got my boss to warn me off and he’s one of the most upright men I know. Their plans are complicated, like a web. A group this organized probably has contingency plans for everything, especially the future.”

  Dulcie was stunned. “You don’t really think she hired me because I’d be easy to blame, do you?”

  He shrugged. “My gut says this group is powerful and smart. I want to move carefully. And I need that letter.”

  Dulcie didn’t hesitate. She grabbed it from her purse and handed it to him.

  Austin nodded his head in approval. “We’ve had our fingers all over it. I doubt the lab will find anything besides our prints, but it’s the only solid clue we have. I’ll get it to a friend and see if she can’t put a rush on it.”

  That little cleft in his chin twitched as his jaw tightened. He gestured to the files on the table. “Most of these cases involve multiple justice departments, the municipal police, the county sheriffs and the Navajo police. Jurisdictions cross and recross. The tribal police have no authority off the reservation and the municipal police have none on tribal lands. Add the FBI and their particular duties to the mix and you have a fouled-up system. This group has taken advantage of that fact.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure how much help I can be. In the first year only two victims lived in my jurisdiction. No telling how many others are outside my boundaries. I can pull those two reports without drawing attention but asking for others might send up red flags—flags we don’t need flying.”

  He picked up the first year’s file. “And...I don’t know how we can connect Officer Shaw. I haven’t found a link to him, but someone in law enforcement is involved otherwise my boss wouldn’t have tried to pull me off. Who knows how far up the chain of command it goes? Not to mention all the other questions we have to answer. How do they operate? Do they hold their victims in the local area or move them immediately? How do they transport them? But most of all, we need to find those first connections. How are these girls chosen? What place or people do they have in common and what sets the
m up to be targets?”

  Dulcie shook her head. “That’s the one thing I’ve been going over and over in my mind. Judy Begay had a best friend, Susan, from her days on the reservation. The two girls met every Friday at a bar. I always wondered how her stepfather found their meeting place. I could never get that info out of Judy.”

  Austin stared at her. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing in the report about Judy meeting with another girl the night she disappeared.”

  “Judy rushed out of the center to meet Susan. I told Officer Shaw...”

  They stared at each other—silent—until Austin shook his head. “Shaw left a very important detail out of his report so that puts him back at the top of the suspect list.” His features darkened. “And that puts my whole case against Kutchner in jeopardy. We might have the wrong man in jail.”

  Dulcie shivered. Austin’s features were frozen. He was coldly, silently furious. His job, the men he worked with, meant a lot to him and this betrayal went deep. Dulcie respected his feelings, even admired them. But somehow, she was a little disappointed. Had some deep, unspoken part of her wished Austin had agreed to help for her sake? Was her initial trust of Austin based on something else...those handsome all-American looks and a dimple that telegraphed his feelings? Was she attracted to him?

  Of course not. Her instincts wouldn’t betray her like that. She respected and admired his devotion. And of course, she felt compassion for his loss. He was a complicated man who intrigued her. That was all. Nothing more.

  “Do you have any clues about the location of the bar?” His question drew her attention back to the issue at hand.

  “No, I asked Judy multiple times, but she wouldn’t tell me. The topic just slipped out one day when she was talking about Susan. They’d been friends since they were little.”

  “All the more reason why Susan should have been included in the investigation. Do you have a last name?”

  “No, I’m sorry. If Judy said it, I don’t remember.”

  “Well, we’re going to have to find this girl. I have something I have to do tomorrow morning, but first chance I get, I’ll question Doris Begay again.”

  Dulcie bit her lip. “She’s not here. She moved back to the reservation when Matt Kutchner was arrested.”

  “It figures.” Austin flopped back on the sofa and rubbed his face. “What’s tomorrow?”

  “Friday.”

  Apparently, his mind was starting to drag with fatigue. He shook his head. “Look, it’s late and I’m tired. I need to tackle this fresh in the morning.” He gathered the files into a pile.

  He was leaving. Actually leaving. The thought of being alone in her apartment ignited her trepidations. “What...what shall I do tomorrow?”

  He gave a quick shake of his head. “The same thing. Nothing. No questions. No research at work. Act like you are doing exactly what they want.”

  She gestured to the files and her hand trembled slightly. She dropped it quickly, hoping Austin didn’t see the telltale shaking. “Why don’t you leave those with me? I’ll break them down for you.”

  “Are you sure? We need a lot of information culled out of them.”

  “I will not sleep anytime soon. I might as well make the time productive.”

  He studied her for a moment then nodded. “All right. Make separate lists for each year. Write down anything the cases have in common, names, places, friends, anything that doesn’t seem right. We’ll go over the lists tomorrow night when we meet again.”

  He started to stand then paused. “You’ll be all right, won’t you?”

  Studying his weary features, she stomped on her jumping nerves and nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay.” He stood, slid his Stetson into place, grabbed his coat and headed for the door. “Remember, keep a low profile tomorrow and call me if something comes up.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  He hesitated for one moment, then unlocked the dead bolt and opened the door. The minute he stepped out and closed it, Dulcie twisted the lock and slid the chain into place. Then she stood there, listening to his footsteps as he walked down the hall. After everything had gone silent, she finally stepped away from the door. Her knees were a little weak. She plopped down on the couch and closed her eyes.

  Lord, I need to be strong. Need to help Austin. I need Your strength.

  She spoke her favorite scripture out loud until her fear began to fade.

  “And that he might make known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he had afore prepared unto glory.”

  Riches of His glory He had prepared for her. She was unique and beloved of God. Her father had not valued and treasured her, but God did. He’d prepared riches for her even before she was born. One of them was her normal life. After the horror of her early childhood, her day-to-day living held a certain peace and was a blessing. The fact that she could be of service to other beaten and beleaguered women was another richness. They were His promises fulfilled, what He had prepared for her. She’d believed that for most of her life.

  But for the first time, when she spoke the scripture, she felt uneasy...felt a question forming. First the woman and her daughters in California. Now this threat. Were these incidents God’s way of telling her she was on the wrong path?

  She shook her head. That couldn’t be the source of her unrest. She was certain she was meant to fight for those who couldn’t. That conviction filled her entire being. Something else was causing this unrest, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Prayer would answer her question soon enough. In the meantime, she needed to get to work. She pulled her fluffy throw off the back of the couch, wrapped it around her and opened the first file.

  She worked for hours. It wasn’t until she’d gone through all three years of paperwork that she finally put the pencil down, leaned into the pillow and closed her weary eyes.

  She didn’t open them again until her alarm woke her the next morning. The buzzer was going nonstop in the bedroom. She glanced at her watch. The alarm had gone off at least a half an hour ago. She’d be late to work if she didn’t get moving.

  Throwing off the blanket, she dashed to the shower and dressed in record time. She didn’t even try to do makeup. Pulling her wet hair back into a tight bun, she grabbed a protein bar from the kitchen and made it to the front room just as she heard Joey’s door open across the hall.

  Sliding the chain loose, she twisted the lock and opened the door. Joey paused. “Good morning. I guess we’re on the same timetable again today.”

  She gave him a hesitant smile. “Barely. I didn’t hear my alarm.”

  “Is everything okay? You look a little...frazzled.”

  “Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. I just hate being late.”

  She locked the door and headed to the elevator. Joey filed in right behind her. Downstairs, he opened the glass door for her, and she smiled again, this time trying to appear more confident. Her car was close by and she pulled her keys out as Joey strode across the lot to his. She waved, beeped her lock, then looked down at her handle.

  The words No Cops were scratched into the paint just above it.

  She froze for one long minute. Then her gaze shot around the parking lot.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Joey stood outside his car, the door open. Dulcie swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

  She slid in, jammed the key into the ignition and drove away. She waited until she was far down the road before she pulled over and dialed Austin’s number.

  He didn’t answer. His voice message came on. Just hearing his voice gave her the encouragement she needed to keep from falling apart. “Austin, it’s me, Dulcie. I know you said you didn’t see anyone following me, but there has to be someone watching me. They know we met last night. The words No Cops were keyed into my car this m
orning.” Her voice cracked and she was silent for a long time while the message kept running. At last, she found her voice. “All right. I’m going to work. Call me when you get this.”

  THREE

  Lieutenant McGuire had sent Austin a text late last night asking him to come in early. Austin was right on time. Five in the morning was one of the few hours during the day when the station was quiet. The emptiness of the place, with no one loitering in the office area and no phones ringing, increased Austin’s tension. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t slept well. With Dulcie’s information and concern for how to deal with McGuire swimming around in his head, he’d tossed and turned most of the night. He marched straight to the break room for a mug of coffee. Sipping the hot liquid, he let it burn its way down his throat, hoping it might clear away the foggy fumes of frustration.

  Dulcie’s research had struck a nerve with someone...a person with a lot of pull in the force. That kind of power was bad for the department and bad for the men he worked with. He needed to find out who was pulling the strings and why. The only place he could start was here. McGuire’s light was on in his office.

  Picking up his coffee mug, Austin headed to meet his supervisor. The last thing he wanted was to create a break between him and a man he considered a friend, but it had to be done. He knocked on the door frame. “You wanted to see me.”

  Seated at his desk, McGuire gestured Austin in. “Close the door behind you.”

  Austin obeyed and stood in front of the desk. Every muscle in his body tensed as his mind desperately searched for a way to wiggle the information he needed out of his boss.

  McGuire handed him an envelope. “The search warrant for the Carson place came through late yesterday.”

  Mrs. Carson and her son lived in the San Juan Mountains just south of Silverton. Unfortunately, Mrs. Carson’s property fell within the La Plata County boundaries, so Austin’s team had inherited the case. Mrs. Carson and her thirty-year-old son were estranged because of his long history of crime. Unfortunately, during a good time in their relationship, Mrs. Carson had allowed him to move into a remote cabin on the edge of her acreage. However, their relationship soured again. She’d filed a report claiming he had threatened her and was using her cabin as a holding place for stolen property. Austin suspected Carson had already cleared out.