Kidnapped
He clipped a small flag to his lapel, a gift from Benjamin, and then slid a handkerchief into his pocket, figuring if he didn’t need it before the day was over, Caroline might. God, what do You think? A quiet day with a successful outcome? You know what’s coming. Luke looked at the wedding photo again as he slipped on his watch, then stepped away from the dresser. He efficiently packed a bag to keep him going for a week.
Luke headed to his private office. Case notes were stacked beside his laptop. He often worked here for a brief time before heading to the office in Sandy Hill. Jackie was one of the few agents he’d met who routinely kept the same early hours as he did. They’d chosen each other as partners out of a desire for sanity; they both preferred to do a day’s work before lunch. He punched in her number on his phone as he knelt to open the safe.
“Jackie, what are the headlines?”
“We got a couple more possible sightings of Frank Hardin overnight. I’m running them down.”
“Where?”
“Milo, which makes them interesting.”
“Putting him back in the area. Anything I can help with?”
“I’ve got it covered.”
“The sheriff and I are going to work names off that stalking list this morning unless something more urgent comes in.”
“Henry James is focused on the roadblocks and media right now. It’s going to be midday before a lot of the forensic data will be available from the campsite.”
“I’ll plan to be by this afternoon to update on whatever the sheriff and I find.”
“I’ll stay in touch, Luke. I ’ve got a call coming in, gotta go.”
He hung up the phone, satisfied his partner was plugged into the latest news at the task force.
Luke sorted papers and found the document copies he sought. Mark’s adoption of Benjamin had just recently been approved by the courts. Luke knew he was listed in Mark’s will, and Caroline was listed in Sharon’s, setting up dual guardianship and administration of a trust in Benjamin’s name should anything happen to Mark and Sharon. It would help to have a dual power of attorney designation added specifically referencing Benjamin and any medical care he might need.
He slid the papers into his briefcase and closed the safe. He spun the dial.
He glanced at his watch. Caroline should just be getting ready to take Benjamin out to distribute flyers. He tried her cell phone. “It’s Luke. How was breakfast?”
“I’m a fan of donuts, which I think you knew. Thanks for buying the chocolate-filled kind.”
“They’re another thing we have in common. I’ll stop by and pick you and Benjamin up at the community center around noon. I’ve got Mark’s prescriptions. Anything else you need me to bring?”
“That will do.”
“I think your phone battery is going dead.”
“I’m going to see about getting a new one today; this battery won’t hold a charge anymore. Noon at the community center; Benjamin and I will be ready.”
“See you then,” Luke replied, letting her go. He turned off lights and locked up his home again. It was odd to realize Caroline had never been here. He’d have to fix that one day soon. It was a nice place to entertain, and he’d enjoy having her at his side hosting an evening for their friends. One day . . . This storm was going to end, and life would return to normal. He had to hold on to that hope.
* * *
Luke held the squad car’s rear door open for Caroline. “I wish you had stayed with Mark and Benjamin.” The list of names in his pocket the sheriff had helped him put together was slowly being crossed off as they gathered enough information to either clear a person or move the name to a list to investigate further. He hadn’t vetoed Caroline’s request to ride along with them, knowing it was easier on him to have her around as this day unfolded. But now he was regretting that decision. As the list dwindled, Caroline grew more and more tense.
“I need to do this. I’m okay, Luke, just tired.”
He let his hand rest reassuringly on her shoulder for a moment, then he closed the door. In some ways it felt their roles had reversed overnight. He had something to work, and in the activity there was some relief, while Caroline was now the one able to only watch events and feel the weight of what they might discover today. Luke feared word would come about Sharon today and be the worst kind of bad news.
Luke picked up the stack of folders. “Who’s next on the list?” he asked the sheriff.
“Gary Gibson. We’ll try the farmhouse first.”
The drive took only five minutes, and during the short ride, they passed two volunteer groups who were walking the roadsides, looking for anything out of the ordinary. If only they had something to go on to give those volunteer groups a chance of turning up good news.
“I’d like to stop by the volunteer center later today,” Caroline said.
“We’ll go in tonight and help serve dinner for the volunteers,” Luke offered.
The sheriff turned off the main road onto a graveled winding road. Luke felt uneasy and couldn’t put his finger on why. “It’s a large place.” Cattle grazed in the expansive pasture coming down to the edge of the road, and it looked like acres were planted with corn and beans.
“Most of the land is rented out to be farmed.”
The road turned to the right and the farmhouse came into view. The two-story home looked to be built in roughly the same era as Caroline’s home, but it did not appear well maintained. The roof looked reasonably new and a breezeway off the side of the house looked like a recent addition.
Luke checked the file. “Gary has only one vehicle, a gray pickup truck with blue trim?”
“Yes.”
Caroline turned to look back toward the barns. “I don’t see it.”
“Neither do I.”
The sheriff parked in front of the farmhouse. “Gary isn’t one to be out in the fields or checking on the cattle. If he’s around, he’ll probably be near the house.”
Luke got out of the car. “Why don’t you stay put, Caroline? This may be a short stop.” She nodded and Luke closed his door. He walked with the sheriff up the walk on to the porch. Chimes mounted on the top of the well moved in the breeze.
The sheriff knocked. “Gary, you home? It’s Rob. I need to talk with you.”
No answer. Luke walked down the porch and around the house to look in the windows. The living room looked deserted. He saw no sign of a light on inside. “You said he had a darkroom?”
“I believe so.”
“He probably built it in an interior room of the house that already had no windows. Why don’t you check the barn for his truck. I’ll walk around and try the back door. I’d hate to leave only to find out later he was here and working.”
The sheriff nodded.
Luke walked through the tall grass around the house. Why did the man keep flower beds if he never weeded them? The two concrete steps to the back door had begun to chip. Luke knocked on the back door, then opened the screen and knocked again. “Gary, are you home?” He listened but heard no sound of movement. Not entirely surprised, Luke stepped back to the yard.
A kitten appeared briefly from under the stoop and disappeared again. Luke knelt to coax the kitten into coming back out. The guy liked cats; Luke supposed that was to his credit. This one looked to be about three months old. Luke picked the kitten up and carried it as he walked the west side of the house, checking windows. He stepped around a rosebush to see in the window of what he guessed would be one of the back bedrooms.
“There’s still no sign of his truck,” the sheriff said, walking over.
Luke slowly lowered the kitten to the ground, then stepped closer to the window, raising his hand to stop the sun’s glare on the glass. “Get us a warrant. We’ve got probable cause.”
Feeling a bit sick, Luke stepped back so the sheriff could see.
* * *
Luke walked the hallway of Gary’s home, studying the photographs lining the walls. Gary had spent a lot of time documenting
a house fire. A few photos showed firefighters at the scene as the fire burned and part of the roof collapsed. The rest of the photos were taken in the weeks and months afterward, as the remains of the home weathered with time.
Gary had used the burned-down house as a photo study, projecting his own moods onto the burned-out wood. Twisted beams still reached into the sky set against the blue of a noonday sky. Ash drifting away in a breeze. A slim blade of grass poking up through the rubble. A flower in bloom projecting up through a broken picture frame. “This guy has talent.”
“Photography is probably the only safe outlet he has for his emotions since the accident,” Caroline said. “He’d occasionally show me the photos he was having framed.”
“I don’t think you should come any farther.”
Her hand in his tightened. “I’ll cope with it. It’s not going to be worse than I have imagined.”
Luke stepped into the office he had seen through the window. The room had tall ceilings and narrow windows, the lighting good and the furniture sparse. Only a couple dozen framed photos hung on the walls, but they were enough to get them a warrant.
Luke stayed by Caroline as she paused in the doorway and took everything in. They were clearly photos taken without Caroline’s or Sharon’s knowledge.
There were photos of Benjamin going back to when he and Sharon had lived at Caroline’s home. “You can tell when he found the zoom lens and mastered it. He’s putting himself in your lives.” Luke stopped at one of the photos. “This one looks recent.”
“That sweatshirt—it’s from last fall. And from the lighting, he had to be watching me sometime around dawn. Do you think he was making those phone calls?”
“Probably.”
Caroline stopped by one of Sharon putting groceries in her car. “We never saw him.”
Luke rested his hand on her back. “You didn’t see him because he didn’t want either of you to notice him.” There were empty places on the wall. Luke stopped and touched one of them, seeing the different amount of fading on the paint from the sunlight. “This one was removed recently. He must have taken his favorite photos with him.”
“Can we find his darkroom? see if there are negatives still here?” Caroline asked.
“It’s set up back in the second bathroom,” the sheriff said, rejoining them. “Based on the trash creating a stench in the kitchen, Gary left fast and he hasn’t been back here in a few days.”
“With those kinds of burn scars, he’s not going to be exactly inconspicuous as he travels. So where would he be heading?”
“I don’t know if he owns property beyond this farm.”
“What about the insurance settlement after the accident? Didn’t he receive that recently? Has he spent any of it in the last months?” Caroline asked.
“I’ll start making calls to find out.”
Luke led the way to the darkroom to see what they had to work with. Several strips of negatives hung from the shower curtain rod. A small counter had been built out from the wall, extending over the bathtub to form a stand for the photo wash trays. Spiral-bound books of negatives sat stacked beside the stool next to glass jars of developing solutions. “This place is a fire hazard.”
He picked up one of the spiral-bound books and started turning pages of the negatives. Caroline stood at the doorway and watched for a minute, then she disappeared into the adjoining bedroom. “Luke, look at this.”
He stepped to the doorway. Caroline had opened the bedroom closet doors. There were four file cabinets inside. Caroline opened one of the drawers and pulled out a folder. “The folders are dated by date and locations. He’s been taking photos for years. Do you want to take these photos with us?”
“Stay focused on things related to where he’s traveled in the past and where he might go again. Or if we are lucky, any photos he has taken since Friday. Maybe he was back long enough to use his darkroom one last time.”
Caroline opened file drawers. “The most recent file I see is from last month.”
“The recent stuff is probably in here or possibly in his office.”
“I’ll search his desk.”
Luke picked up the binders of negatives still in the darkroom. “Caroline, find a box or sack and gather up whatever papers or receipts you can find when you look through his desk. See if he has a Rolodex or a calendar book. We’ll take them with us to review. He’s going to be heading to somewhere familiar.”
She nodded, clearly relieved to have something concrete to do. “I’ll bring you something to carry those in too.”
“Thanks.”
“Luke, what about the kitten? If Gary has fled . . .”
It took him a moment to catch up with what she was asking. He smiled. “Find as many of the kittens as you can, and hopefully their mother. We’ll take them with us.”
Chapter Thirty
Caroline ate a few fries because they were left from dinner but put the last two hamburgers in the refrigerator. She found paper towels and the cleaning spray and set about wiping down the kitchen table.
“Benjamin has the momma cat and her kittens safely tucked away for the night in the laundry room.”
She turned to smile at Mark. “That’s good.”
“I can see I’ll be buying both a cat and a dog when this is over.”
She offered him the pills Amy had set out for him after dinner, and he swallowed them dry. “Benjamin should be asleep soon; he was fighting to keep his eyes open even as I read his bedtime story. I think I’d better turn in too. Is there anything I can do for you before I go up?”
“I’m fine, Mark. I hope you’re able to sleep well.”
“I’m the lucky one I think; those pills knock a person out.”
She knew he was in pain and running a slight fever again, that every breath had to feel like it was on fire. But she understood why he never said anything in complaint. “I refilled the ice bucket upstairs and left you a bottle of ginger ale. Sharon had the hot pad stored in the guest bathroom; I set it on the nightstand for you. It might help that shoulder some tonight.”
“Thanks. Amy’s back at first light with the doctor, so I’d best be on the road to recovery by then. The last thing I need is to be prescribed more pills. If Benjamin cries at all and I don’t hear him, please, wake me.”
“I’ll do that. Good night, Mark.”
She watched him leave, using a cane and leaning a hand against the chair, then the wall, to keep his balance as he walked. He’d pushed himself coming out of the hospital earlier than was wise and dealt with the fact his wife didn’t come home.
In his place, she would have cracked under the pressure a long time ago. She turned her attention back to the kitchen, keeping busy to help pass the long evening.
* * *
“Is there enough in Gary’s files to help us find him?” Caroline asked.
Luke looked up from the papers he was sorting through. She looked ill from the lack of sleep. He’d hoped that she would lie down for an hour after dinner. He tugged out a chair at Mark’s dining room table for her. “We’ve got credit card receipts, cancelled checks—” he held up the receipts he had taken from Gary’s files—“tracing where he’s been in the last year won’t be so hard. We’ll figure out where he might go again.”
“He had to have taken her somewhere within driving distance. He’s not going to fly her somewhere. How far does he run?”
“I don’t think he will try to go more than a day or two before he hunkers down. He’ll need access to more cash, and that will help us spot him. Or the flyers will pay off and someone will report seeing them. How’s the distribution coming?”
“Jackie has the new flyer out with the media, and the volunteers are starting to distribute it now.” Caroline’s voice broke and she wiped at the tears. “Sorry.”
He nudged his sandwich her direction, silently encouraging her to try to eat some more. She was holding it together, but her emotions were fraying as the stress never abated. “You need to get some sleep
.”
“I tried. It doesn’t come.”
She picked up the sandwich to nibble at a bite. “Mark doesn’t look so good. You need to speak with him, Luke. He’s been going through the negatives we brought over, seeing how many locations he can identify where Gary was watching Sharon or me. He can’t do that kind of thing to himself, not when he needs to be recovering. He went up to bed, but I’m afraid he’ll just get back up again soon and go back to it.”
Luke set down the papers he held. “I’ve tried, Caroline. He needs to do something, and to be out searching the roads is beyond his strength right now. I had a hard time convincing him not to pick up his car keys and drive through the night.”
He leaned over and rubbed her hand. “Right now we make progress by generating and dispersing information, increasing media coverage, and following up on leads.”
“It’s so hard, this part of your job. Sharon’s out there somewhere, and we’re helpless to end this without a break coming our way.”
“We’ll get that break through a lot of hard work. How’s Benjamin holding up?”
“He’s frightened, scared, trying hard not to cry in front of his dad. I’ll take him out tomorrow to pass out more flyers. That seemed to help him, having something tangible to do.”
“Keep up your courage, Caroline. Sharon is out there, and we will find her.”
She offered a smile that faded and set aside the sandwich. “I thought I might go back to my place for a couple hours and see if I can sleep there. Benjamin finally nodded off and Mark’s resting.”
Luke pulled out his car keys for her. “Call me when you get there, okay?”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Luke.”
She headed toward the door.
He watched her go. He’d been afraid she wouldn’t have the strength to make that decision to step back for a couple hours, the wisdom to make it. He should have known she’d do the smart thing.
Luke sighed, wishing he could give Caroline something, anything that would be positive news. He looked at the spread-out papers. If Gary had a place he was heading to in mind, he either owned it, had stayed there before, or could easily access it on short notice. It wasn’t obvious in the first look at his accounts where that place might be.