Chapter Twelve

Gage refused to elaborate, only repeated that Ryker needed to come to the sheriff's department as soon as possible. He was waiting when Ryker arrived and pulled him into an empty conference room. "What's going on?" Ryker asked, searching Gage's expression for any clues, but finding none. "Have you found Charlotte? Is she okay?"

"We haven't found Charlotte," Gage said. "But Dwight is bringing in Kim. She flagged down a Jeep up past Galloway Basin. When the driver heard who she was he had sense enough to call 911."

A rush of adrenaline staggered Ryker. "Kim was by herself? Where are Charlotte and Mick?" He clenched his fists to keep from grabbing Gage by the shoulders and shaking the answers from him.

"We don't know anything else. Dwight is bringing her here for questioning. She didn't resist when he and Jamie arrived to arrest her. I wanted to tell you before someone in town spotted her and passed the word along to you. I didn't want you doing anything rash."

"What did you think I would do?" Ryker asked.

"I don't know. But in your shoes I would be pretty upset. Better to have you here. As soon as we know anything about Charlotte's whereabouts, I promise you will, too."

"Thanks for that."

Somewhere down the hall, a door opened and voices rose. Ryker turned toward the sound. "I want to see her," he said.

"Not until after we've questioned her."

Ryker knew this was the proper way to do things, and the best way to ensure that Kim's eventual prosecution stood up in court. But the idea of having to wait to find out where his daughter was ate at him. "I'll send someone in to wait with you," Gage said, and left the room.

Ryker paced. Gage had been so insistent that he come to the sheriff's department right away that he hadn't changed clothes. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, the clothing emphasizing his role here as just another civilian.

The door to the interview room opened and Jamie Douglas entered. The department's sole female deputy, Jamie was a tall, slender brunette with a reputation as a tough, smart cop. Like Ryker, she had grown up in Eagle Mountain. She was a few years older than Ryker, but he remembered her from school. "Hello, Ryker," she said. "Do you want a cup of coffee or anything?"

"No thanks. I'm wired enough without the caffeine."

Jamie sat, but he continued to pace. "Did you draw the short straw, having to babysit me?" he asked. "What does Gage think I'm going to do—run in there and attack Kim? He should know me better than that."

"I'm here to keep you company while you wait." She leaned back in the chair, deliberately casual. "We can talk about whatever you like, though I thought maybe you'd want to hear what happened when we arrested Kim."

He stopped, then dropped into the chair across from her. "Tell me," he said.

"We met the Jeep at the turnoff onto the county road," she said. "The driver pulled over and we asked him and Kim to step out of the car. They both climbed out. Kim held up her hands and stood there, not resisting. She looked like she'd had a hard time of it, frankly."

"What do you mean?"

"Her clothes were filthy, she had scratches on her arms and her hair was a mess. I asked her about the scratches and she said Mick had pushed her out of the car and driven off."

"Where was Charlotte?"

"Kim said Charlotte was with Mick. She said she had run after the car, trying to get to Charlotte, but Mick just sped up. She fell, chasing him, and that was how she got so dirty and scratched up."

"Why did he throw her out of the car?"

"She said it was because she wanted to take Charlotte back to you. That made Mick mad, so he left her out there in the middle of nowhere. She said he had done it before—left her alone with nothing to punish her—but he always came back, usually after a few minutes, or sometimes after a few hours. She said she thought she had been there two hours or more when she saw the Jeep driver and decided to flag him down and ask for help."

"Where are Mick and Charlotte now?" Ryker said. That was the only question that really mattered.

"She said she doesn't know. They knew their tent was being watched, so they couldn't go back there. She had wanted to drop Charlotte off in town and leave with Mick, but he refused."

"Why would he refuse?" Ryker asked. "It's not like he was ever interested in Charlotte before. I always thought he was the main reason Kim stayed away."

"She didn't say. After we got her in the cruiser and gave her some water she didn't say much of anything at all, except to insist that she doesn't know where Mick or Charlotte are right now."

"They must have been staying somewhere since they left their camp," Ryker said.

"I asked her if there was somewhere we could take her, to pick up the rest of her belongings," Jamie said. "I was hoping that might lead us to Charlotte. But Kim just said no. And after that, she clammed up."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Why did she take Charlotte in the first place?"

"Gage and Travis will find out as much as they can," Jamie said.

"What about the feds? Are they on their way to question her?" Once the FBI arrived, Kim would be even further out of his reach.

"I don't think they've been notified yet."

"They'll be involved sooner rather than later," Ryker said.

"Declan and Shane are driving all the Jeep roads near where we picked up Kim, looking for any sign of the white Jeep or any kind of encampment," she said. "They'll stop anyone they see and ask about Mick and Charlotte."

Maybe they would get lucky and find their new hiding place, but Ryker wasn't one to count on luck. "Did Gage find out anything more about Mick Davis?" he asked.

"I don't know," Jamie said. "He didn't mention it."

He probably wouldn't have said anything to Jamie if he had, Ryker thought. He got up and began to pace again. Jamie pulled out her phone and began scrolling. Somewhere in the distance a phone rang. A door opened and closed. Muffled voices swelled, then faded, the words indistinguishable.

The door to the interview room opened and Dwight Prentice stuck his head in. The lanky blond, thirty-four years old, had been with the department longer than anyone except Travis and Gage. "Ryker, could you come with me?"

Ryker followed him into the hallway. "Kim asked to talk to you," Dwight said.

"Good." He had a lot of things he wanted to say to her, but he reminded himself the most important thing right now was to listen.

"Are you armed?" Dwight asked him.

"No." He had been in such a hurry to get here, he hadn't taken his gun out of the safe he kept it in at home.

Dwight looked pained. "You know I have to check."

"I know." He held out his arms and allowed Dwight to frisk him. He was furious with Kim, but he would never have tried to kill her. But his fellow deputies had to always assume the worst in order to prevent tragedy.

He followed Dwight down the hall to another interview room. Gage opened the door for them, and the sheriff looked up from the table, where he sat across from Kim.

Jamie had been right—she looked rough. She had muddy smears down her cheeks and her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she had been crying. Her hair was a snarled nest, and one knee of her jeans was ripped, and not in a fashionably deliberate way. "Oh, Ryker, I'm so sorry," she moaned, and put her head down on the table and began to sob.

Travis stood. "You can sit here," he said.

Ryker took the seat and looked across at his ex-wife as she continued to sob. Most of the heat of his anger had dissipated. She was such a pathetic figure, not worth the energy it would take to muster any hatred.

Long minutes passed, her sobs the only sound in the room. Dwight hadn't come in, leaving Travis, Gage and Ryker to watch her. After a while, the sobs subsided, and she raised her head. She didn't say anything, so Ryker asked, "Where is Charlotte?"

"I don't know." Her voice sounded scratchy and raw. "If I did, I promise I would tell you."

"Where do you think she is?"

"I don't know that either!" Her voice rose on the last word, into a wail. Travis rested his hand on Ryker's shoulder, whether to steady him or because he feared Ryker might lunge across the table and throttle her, he didn't know. The sheriff needn't have worried about physical violence. Ryker wasn't going to lay a hand on Kim. She wasn't worth the effort. "Why did you take her?" he asked.

"Because I'm her mother. Mick agreed it was time. He had found this mining claim we were going to live on, off-grid. Charlotte was going to live with us. That was the plan all along. I told you when I left."

"I never agreed to the plan," he said.

"But I'm her mother." She sat up straighter, shoulders squared, and glared at him. This show of indignation might have been comical under other circumstances.

He wasn't going to waste time arguing the point. "Is she all right?" he asked.

"She's fine. She's having a wonderful time."

"You stole her away from her home. You took her from her family and friends. How could she be happy?" So much for his attempt to remain unemotional.

"Mick and I are her family, too. She was having fun with us."

"Mick isn't related to her. What is he going to do to her?" He had to force the words out, all the terrible possibilities behind them closing his throat.

She slumped. Ryker stared at her, frustration warring with fatigue. "Why did you want to talk to me?" he asked finally.

"I don't want you to think I'm a bad person," she said. "I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I was trying to do the right thing and bring her back to you when Mick threw me out."

"Why did you change your mind about keeping her?"

"It's not that I didn't want her anymore, it's just that we weren't quite ready to have her with us. I guess I got a little overexcited and jumped the gun. Mick said he had a place for us to live, but it was just a shack and a tent. Not really the kind of place to bring a kid."

"Where was that?" he asked.

"I already told the sheriff about it. But we didn't stay there long. Mick decided we needed somewhere a little farther off the beaten path. But then we only had the tent, and I never realized it gets so cold in the mountains at night, you know?"

"You should have called me. I would have come to get her."

"I couldn't do that. I mean, you're a cop. Mick didn't like that. So I told him we could just drop her off in town and someone would make sure she got back to you."

This was a child she was talking about, not a package to be left at lost and found. But he reined in his anger. "Why didn't you do that?"

"Mick didn't want to do that. We argued and that's when he ended up leaving me by the side of the road. I was sure he would calm down and come back soon, but he didn't. And I was getting awfully thirsty out there, so I flagged down a guy for help. Only he had to go and call 911." She let out a long sigh. "But I guess it's for the best."

"It's not for the best if Charlotte isn't home safe," Ryker said.

"You think I'm an awful person and I'm not!" She began to cry again, but her tears didn't move him.

"Where are Mick and Charlotte now?" he demanded.

"I don't know." She buried her face in her hands.

He kept his fists clenched at his sides, wanting to shake her. "Where did you stay last night?"

"We slept in the Jeep. This morning he said he had found a new place for us to stay, but he didn't say where. But you don't need to worry. I'm sure he'll take good care of her."

"She belongs with me. You never should have taken her."

"Why are you being so mean to me?" she wailed.

He looked over at Gage. "I've had enough."

Gage opened the door and Dwight entered. "You need to come with us now," Dwight said, and took Kim's arm.

Her eyes widened in alarm. "Where are you taking me?"

"Downstairs, to the booking room and the holding cells," Dwight said. "You'll stay there until we can arrange transport to Junction."

"But you can't arrest me. I haven't done anything wrong."

"We've already told you you're charged with the kidnapping of Charlotte Vernon," Travis said. "We have you on tape saying that you understand the charges and your rights. I can read them to you again if you like."

"But I cooperated with you," she said. "I answered all your questions. And you can't charge me with kidnapping my own daughter."

"You don't have custody," Ryker said. "You haven't even seen Charlotte in three years."

"I'm still her mother."

"You need to come with me," Dwight said. "Stand up now."

She stood, but she looked furious. "I want a lawyer," she said.

"You have that right," Travis said. "We'll make the arrangements as soon as you're booked."

Dwight and Gage led her away, leaving Travis and Ryker alone. He felt utterly drained. "Did she tell you any more than she told me?" Ryker asked.

"No."

"What's this about a mining claim they were going to live on? Did Mick buy a place?"

"It doesn't sound like it," Travis said. "I think he had the idea that if they squatted there long enough, they could assume ownership. Or maybe he thought nobody would know, or he could scam someone into letting them stay. How did Kim seem to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is she how you remembered her?"

He tried to think back to the woman he had married. The one who had charmed him and made him believe they could make a life together. "I didn't marry her because I was in love with her," he said. "She was pregnant and I believed the baby was mine and I wanted to be there for her and the baby. She was pretty and outgoing and fun to be with, so I thought we could make it work. She was always a little...erratic. Very enthusiastic about one thing, then she would drop that and move on to something else. But once she met up with Mick..." He shrugged. "She became enthralled with him, and that doesn't seem to have changed."

"I can't decide if she's really that much under his control or if she's faking it," Travis said.

"I think she's that much under his control," Ryker said. "For what it's worth, I always thought he was behind her abandoning Charlotte. I wasn't happy about the two of them getting together, but I never thought she would turn her back on her baby. She was a good mother before she left with him." That knowledge was one thing that had kept him from losing it entirely after Charlotte disappeared. For all her faults, Kim had taken good care of Charlotte before she left, and he had held on to the hope that those motherly instincts still flourished inside her.

Gage returned to the room. "She's quieted down now," he said.

"Did you find out anything about Mick Davis?" Ryker asked. "Any reason the FBI might be worried about him?"

Gage looked past Ryker to the sheriff. "Davis has never been convicted of any offense related to children," Travis said.

"But?" Ryker asked.

"But he was questioned about the disappearance of a little girl in Gilcrest last year, where he and Kim were living at the time," Travis said. "A witness reported a man who fit his description seen with the girl about the time she disappeared. Nothing came of it. He was questioned and released."

Ryker's mouth was dry. "What happened to the little girl?" he asked.

"She's never been found."

"It may not mean anything," Gage said. "You know how these things work. Law enforcement questions a lot of people who turn out not to be related to the crime."

Right. Ryker had been one of them. But it didn't mean Mick wasn't involved in whatever happened with that little girl, or that he would take good care of Charlotte.

"We're putting everything into looking for him and Charlotte," Travis said. "We're sending up a helicopter as soon as it can get here from Delta. I'm asking every off-duty and reserve deputy to help. No one has said no."

"I can help." Ryker stood.

"You know that's not a good idea," Travis said.

If Ryker had been in Travis's shoes, he would have said the same thing. Law enforcement couldn't risk an enraged or distraught father confronting Mick and sending the situation spiraling out of control.

"I know it's hard," Gage said. "You need to find something else to focus on while we're doing our jobs. Did you see anything in the file I sent over?"

Ryker took a deep breath, and pulled his attention to Aiden's file. "Do you remember that handyman, Gary Langley?"

"What about him?" Travis asked.

Ryker explained about the man who had approached him the evening of the day Charlotte disappeared, and about Margery Kenner's mention of him in her statement. "The file states Langley told the sheriff's deputies that he sold the truck, but I couldn't find anything showing anyone followed up on the sale of his truck. Did he really sell it before Aiden disappeared, or did he get rid of it afterward?"

"He lives on a few acres east of town," Gage said. "I think he inherited the property from his family. He's been on disability for years."

"He said he had an accident at work the year after Aiden went missing," Ryker said. "I thought that was odd—he kept mentioning Aiden. Why didn't they look at him more closely at the time of Aiden's disappearance?"

"I'm not excusing them, but it was a small department, with few resources and not much experience," Travis said. "If I remember right, they followed up with him about the truck, he said he had sold it, and that's as far as it went."

"And they had already decided that I was the one who killed Aiden," Ryker said.

Travis nodded.

"Wasn't Langley related to one of the deputies back then?" Gage asked. "Married to his sister, or something?"

"Maybe so," Travis said. "He doesn't have a criminal record that I'm aware of, but I promise I'll look at him a little more closely. Though it may not be right away."

"I understand," Ryker said. He didn't want anything distracting from the search for Charlotte. "But when you get a chance. It would be good to have some closure for Aiden's parents."

"In the meantime, go home and try to stay positive," Gage said. "You have to trust us. We've got your back."

But none of them were Charlotte's father. No matter how much they cared, he would always care more. No matter how much they fought, he would fight harder.

He left the sheriff's department but he didn't drive home. Instead, he headed east out of town, to the address he pulled up for Gary Langley. The property was a flat, scrubby acreage dotted with sagebrush. The house, a square wooden structure with flaking white paint and a metal roof streaked with orange rust, sat atop a small rise, a white van parked out front.

Ryker stopped his truck behind the van and sat for a moment studying the house. No dog barked and everything was so still he might have thought the property was unoccupied, except he saw the blinds move. A few moments later the door opened and Langley, leaning on a thick wooden cane, stepped out.

Ryker got out of his truck and walked up to meet Langley on the porch. "Deputy." Langley tipped his head in acknowledgment. "What can I do for you?"

"We talked that first day my daughter went missing," Ryker said. "I'm sorry I didn't remember you then. I was still in shock, I guess. But later, I remembered. You used to drive a red pickup, didn't you? For your handyman business?"

"I did. But why would you remember that?"

"I was a nineteen-year-old gearhead. I paid attention to cars and trucks. I really liked yours. That red color—whatever happened to it?"

"I sold it. It looked nice, but I wanted something that would hold more tools. I ended up buying a van. I still have it." He nodded toward the battered white van in the driveway. "I had it converted to hand controls to make it easier for me to drive."

"I guess it was foolish of me to hope you still had it." Ryker attempted to look sheepish. "Who did you sell it to?"

"A fellow from Texas. But that was years ago. He probably got rid of it a long time ago."

"You never know. You don't remember his name, do you?"

"No, I don't." Langley scowled, the expression almost lost in the deep folds of wrinkles and jowls.

"What year did you sell it to him?"

"I don't remember. A long time ago."

"But you still had it when Aiden went missing."

"No, I sold it before then."

Ryker nodded. "Someone told me they thought you still had it then. They saw you driving it—probably helping search for Aiden."

"They were wrong." Langley shifted, the cane thumping hard on the porch floor. "Don't you have better things to do than to worry about an old truck? Shouldn't you be out searching for your daughter?"

"You're right. I'm just trying to stay busy while I wait for the sheriff's department to coordinate the search. Since I'm Charlotte's dad, they don't want me too directly involved. I won't bother you anymore. Thanks again for all your help."

He left, never completely turning his back on the older man. As he slid into his truck he glanced toward the porch. Langley was still there, glowering at him. He had made it a point to mention his disability again. Was that merely a habit, or did he want to emphasize how incapable he was of doing anything harmful? Maybe he was now. But when Aiden was alive, Langley had been a hardy, strong man. Ryker remembered something about him coaching youth soccer. He might even have known Aiden.

He started the truck and backed out of the driveway. Maybe Langley had nothing to do with Aiden's disappearance, but someone should have checked. Instead of deciding Ryker was guilty and focusing only on him, someone should have done a better job of searching for Aiden's killer. It might be too late to find whoever was responsible now. But that didn't mean it wasn't worth trying.