Chapter 4

 

Lindy Sheets was getting nervous. She’d waited at Fuzzy Fridays until sunup. Danny wasn’t answering the texts she’d sent, and he should have been here by now. Something had gone wrong. It was time to let Boss know. She made the call. He answered on the second ring, and as always, just the sound of his voice made her shudder because she’d witnessed what he was capable of.

“What?”

“Something’s wrong. Biggers didn’t show and he’s not answering my calls.”

“Then dump your phone and get out of the state. When you get settled, contact me. If he’s been captured with the kid, you’re linked to the kidnapping by being the drop-off contact, and that links you to me.”

“We don’t know that! He might be in hiding. And don’t talk to me like I’m expendable! You know me and you owe me. I don’t rat on anybody!”

“And I don’t take chances. Do what I said,” he countered.

Lindy’s stomach pitched. She had to disappear. This man didn’t leave loose ends. Anywhere. She disconnected and drove home. Dropped her phone down a storm drain, packed her clothes, left her car locked up in the parking lot of her apartment building, and started walking, pulling her suitcase behind her as she went.

***

It was nearing ten the same morning when Liz Caldwell came out of her room. She was still in her pajamas and a housecoat, and rubbing sleep from her eyes as she headed for the dining area to see if the breakfast buffet was still on the sideboard.

To her delight, it was still there, and warm. She got coffee, bacon, and a flaky croissant, and carried it all to the table.

Her mother walked in just as Liz was taking her first sip of coffee and frowned at the food on her daughter’s plate.

“Good morning, darling. Don’t you want some eggs with that? A portion of protein is important, too.”

Liz picked up a strip of bacon. “Protein, Mother. As you suggested,” she said and took a big bite.

Patricia rolled her eyes and poured herself a cup of coffee before joining Liz at the table.

“Aren’t you having anything?” Liz asked.

“I’ve already eaten with your father. I’m just rambling about up here, trying to decide what to do with myself,” she drawled, and then rolled her eyes. “I mean, there’s so much culture and charm in this place, I simply can’t decide.”

Liz laughed. She knew her mother hated it here. New York City or London or Paris were places more suited to Patricia Caldwell’s tastes.

“Did you hear all the sirens in the night?” Liz asked as she kept eating.

Patricia rolled her eyes. “I would have had to be deaf not to. God knows what was going on up there. Your father said police cars and ambulances went up the mountain and then came straggling back later.”

Liz shrugged. “Accidents can happen anywhere, Mother. And people get sick or hurt, regardless of their bank accounts.”

Patricia shrugged. “I suppose. I’d love a swim, but I’d rather lick boots than mingle with the tourists in the hotel pool. I don’t know why your father is so dead set on living here. We could still own this and live elsewhere. Even if it is the penthouse, living on the premises makes me feel so…innkeeper’s wife.”

Liz said nothing. Her mother’s dissatisfaction with life had little to do with where they slept and more to do with herself. If her daddy wasn’t so rich, her mother would be long gone, chasing rainbows for the next best thing.

***

Marsh Devon was at the heliport seeing his investors safely off, and nursing a hangover headache. Thankfully, the big chopper was already coming in for a landing, and then they’d soon be gone. Three were flying back to Boston, and the other two would be going on to New York City. It had been a successful meeting for Marsh. He was in the planning stages to develop new off-campus housing in Lexington, near the University of Kentucky, and now he had the capital to follow through.

The day was sunny but cold, and Marsh was dreading spending another winter in these mountains. He loved the snow and he loved to ski, but this wasn’t a place for skiing. The mountains were heavily forested, the area didn’t get that kind of snow, and even more to the point, cutting down even one tree around here could get a man arrested. If it wasn’t for the year-round music venues, the upcoming holidays, and the charm of the village shops, there would be no winter tourist trade.

But his son, Michael, had several years of hotel management under his belt now, and Marsh was hoping to put Michael in charge of Hotel Devon, leaving himself free to set up residence in Lexington to oversee the new housing development going up. There were standards he wanted to maintain in this hotel, and keeping Michael in charge would assure that. The more tourists he drew away from the Serenity Inn, the better he liked it.

***

Jack Barton was the other hotelier catering to tourists, but his location was two miles outside of Jubilee and geared to the budget tourists. He’d bypassed the restrictions that came with doing business with PCG Inc., the corporation that owned the land on which Jubilee was built, and bought land on the highway outside of their holdings.

He’d built tiny cabins for family sleeping accommodations rather than just another high-rise hotel, and this past year, he’d expanded his camping area for RVs and travel trailers. Come next spring, he was planning to develop an on-site water feature of some kind. Maybe a large pool with a water slide and a concession area. He was the new kid on the block but determined to suck up some of the profits from the Devons and the Caldwells.

His living quarters were in the attached log house at the back of the office. He’d just come up front to open the office and check new online reservations when the door opened and two men in dark suits walked in. Before he could speak, they flashed their badges and introduced themselves.

“Mr. Barton, I’m Special Agent Howard, and this is my partner, Special Agent Pickard. We need to ask you some questions.”

“Of course. Take a seat,” Jack said, and then frowned. “So. The FBI? What’s going on?”

“We just have a few questions. It won’t take long.”

Jack shrugged. “Ask away.”

“Do you do long-term rentals in your tiny cabins?” Howard asked.

Jack frowned. “What do you mean by long-term?”

“Someone renting on a monthly basis,” Howard said.

“Not in the tiny cabins. I’d have to check registration about the camping areas.”

“Would you do that, please? We’ll wait,” Pickard said.

Jack turned to the computer, pulled up registration records, and began scanning through the list. “I have one campsite registered to a college student who’s been here since the first week of July. He spends most of his time in the woods studying something or other.”

“What’s his name and where’s the campsite located?” Pickard asked.

“Kevin Vanzant. He has a travel trailer set up at Campsite 22 at the north end of the property.”

“How do we get there?” Howard asked.

“Just follow the road in front of this office and take the north fork that goes into the forest beyond the cabins. The sites are numbered. Stay on the main road and you can’t miss it.”

“Would you be willing to rent one of the cabins on a monthly basis?” Howard asked.

Jack shrugged. “Sure, but there’s no price break for a long-term rental. Cabins are $125 a night and sleep four. A mini-kitchen/living/dining area. A single bathroom. One queen-size bed downstairs. Twin beds up in the little loft.”

“Do you have problems with people who leave without notifying you, or people who skip out without paying up?”

“Occasionally, but they all leave a credit card number at the office when they register, so we just charge them and email them a receipt.”

“We’re going to need a list of those names from this past July to date.”

Jack frowned. “That will take some time.”

Howard nodded. “We want to visit Campsite 22 and talk to Mr. Vanzant, so we’ll stop back by the office on our way out, okay?”

“Yes. I’ll have the list for you then,” Jack said, and was already searching back files as he heard them drive away.

***

Pickard was driving toward the RV park, and Howard was riding shotgun.

“What do you think?” Howard asked.

“If this Vanzant dude seems sketchy, I think we need to get an undercover agent in here. According to the info I have pulled up here, when Biggers first attacked Rachel Pope, she was still living at home with her mother. Biggers has been in prison for four years. He wouldn’t know where Rachel was now, and why would he care? I think somebody sent him for this specific kid.”

Howard nodded. “I agree, and I think our undercover needs to be female. If there’s a branch of the trafficking ring working out of this isolated tourist attraction, a single female suddenly appearing on her own should be the lure we need to catch them in the act.”

They drove until they reached the campsite and saw the setup of Vanzant’s travel trailer, but neither he nor his vehicle were anywhere to be seen.

The trailer was locked. They poked around outside to no avail, then went back to the office to pick up the list, then headed back to the chopper. They needed to get back to the office to run the names on the list through NamUs, the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System database, and also get background on Kevin Vanzant.

***

It was nearing sundown when Kevin Vanzant returned to his trailer. He’d been in Jubilee most of the day, completely unaware he’d caught the attention of the FBI.

Out of habit, he dumped his camera and laptop inside and then went back out to check the trail cameras around his camp. It wasn’t unusual to catch people walking along the paths or the occasional visit from Jack Barton, the owner of the campground, but he was completely unprepared for the two men in dark suits who appeared on camera poking around outside the trailer and then actually trying the locked door.

At that moment, the hair crawled on the back of his neck. Men in black? All that was lacking from their wardrobes were Ray-Bans. He saw them pause to look around the area and then get back in their car and drive away.

“Shit. What was that all about?” he muttered, then reset the camera and ran into the trailer.

He spent the next few minutes going through everything inside, looking for hidden cameras or anything they might have bugged, but found nothing suspicious and nothing had gone missing.

Then he sat down on the corner of the bed and made a call. It rang twice before the call was picked up.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me, Boss. Are we on the radar?”

“Why?”

Kevin quickly related what he’d seen.

“I’m already on that. If you are, we’ll let you know,” Boss said.

Kevin sighed. “Okay, thanks. I just—”

The line went dead in his ear.

***

Lili Glass woke up in the ICU crying for her mother.

It was the best news Rachel and Louis could have received. Within a short time, Lili had been moved into a regular room, and from there into her mother’s arms.

Rachel sat down with her in one of the recliners, wrapped Lili up in a heated blanket, and rocked her back to sleep, while Louis left the room to make some calls. This was the news their family had been waiting for, and Cameron was the first person Louis called.

***

It was nearing 2:00 p.m. and Cameron had been up for hours. He’d tried to go back to sleep after he got Ghost home from the vet, but it wasn’t long before he heard Ghost whining and knew he was in pain. After that, he got up and had been up taking care of the dog ever since.

One look in the mirror was all the proof he needed to know his face was too cut up to shave, and the shadow of black whiskers on his face just added to his lone-wolf persona. Lili was in God’s hands. Ghost would heal. His face would heal. He’d shave off the whiskers, and life would go on.

It was just after lunch when he took Ghost outside and settled him on the back porch, then headed to the woodpile beside the old barn and started chopping up blocks of wood for firewood. He’d been at it for almost an hour when his cell phone rang. When he realized the call was from Louis, he swung the ax down into a block and answered.

“Hello?”

“Cam, it’s me, Louis. Lili woke up, crying for her mother. She’s going to be okay. The doctors have moved her out of the ICU. We wanted you to be the first to know.”

“Thank God, and thank you for letting me know. I know you’re going to be inundated with visitors now. I’ll wait until you get to bring her home to come get my hug.”

“Awesome,” Louis said. “By the way, how’s Ghost?”

“Not his usual self, for sure. He has stitches in his foot, so I’m babying him for a while.”

“Bless that dog,” Louis said. “You take care of your baby and we’ll take care of ours, and when Ghost can handle it, bring him with you to see Lili. She loves that dog almost as much as she loves you.”

Cameron was still smiling when Louis disconnected, then he let out a whoop.

“Hallelujah!” he shouted, and then grabbed the ax, yanked it out of the wood, and kept on working.

Ghost’s head came up, but he didn’t move. He was waiting for orders. When they didn’t come, he laid his chin back on his paws, his eyes following every swing of the ax and every step Cameron took.

***

Cameron stacked what he’d cut, stored his tools, then grabbed an armload of firewood and headed for the house. It was a couple of hours before sundown and the air was noticeably colder than it had been earlier. Cameron hadn’t seen a weather report all day, but from the looks of the sky, they were in for some rain. Ghost stood as Cameron came up the steps and hobbled into the house behind him. Cameron kicked the door shut and kept walking, carrying the wood into the living room and stacking it by the fireplace before starting a fire. He added a couple of logs to the flaming kindling, turned up the thermostat to warm up the house, fed Ghost, then went to clean up.

Ghost was back in his bed by the fireplace by the time Cameron came to the front of the house again. He paused to check the bandage, then stroked the big dog’s head before going to the kitchen to make himself something to eat.

He was living a solitary existence by choice, but there were times, like today, when he missed his parents and the family they had been.

At this time of day his mother would have had supper cooking, and his dad would be coming in from the barn with a bucket of fresh milk to be strained. Rachel would have been playing in a corner with one of the barn cats, hoping their mother didn’t notice she’d dragged it in the house again. Looking back, Cameron realized their mother always noticed. She just didn’t always say anything about it.

But that was then, and this was now. His dad had died almost ten years ago, and his mother just before Lili was born. Cameron came home to this house after his second tour of duty ended and never went back.

He turned on the television in the kitchen, pulled out a cast-iron skillet, washed a couple of potatoes, and sliced them up to fry. While they were cooking in the hot oil, he grilled a hamburger steak, got a container of deli coleslaw from the refrigerator, then sat down at the table, keeping an eye on the news as he ate.

When they segued into a commercial with a lead for the story up next, he heard them say “Danny Lee Biggers, escaped prisoner” and “kidnapping,” and looked up. His heart sank. It was inevitable that they would drag up the past. The sensationalism of a rapist returning to the scene of the crime was too big to ignore.

Just as he’d feared, they started with the backstory, then segued into the escape and everything that had ensued afterward. What Cameron hadn’t expected was so much focus on Lili’s rescue. Much emphasis had been given to the families on Pope Mountain who took to the woods with their hunting dogs to track Biggers down, and that the child’s uncle, Cameron Pope, and his dog, Ghost, were the ones who found Biggers and rescued Lili.

He changed the channel and got up from the table. He’d lost his appetite and he still had to clean up the kitchen.

***

The Caldwells were having drinks in the den before dinner and watching the national newscast. Ray was waiting for stock market reports when they heard the journalist on air mention Jubilee, an escaped prisoner, a kidnapping, and a dramatic rescue.

Their conversation ceased.

“That must be what all those sirens were about last night,” Ray said.

Patricia shuddered. “These mountains and the people who live up there give me the creeps.”

But when the story began, prejudice was put aside by the horror of what had happened. As for Liz, once she heard Cameron Pope’s name and his part in the rescue, she drifted off into a fantasy of her own where Cameron Pope’s mad race up the mountain had been to save her. They would make passionate love afterward, and—

She sighed. Through all of her daydreams and hot flashes about having sex with the man, her fantasies never took her past the sex. Everything faded after that. It was absurd that she was so fixated on him when they’d never even been introduced. Even when she was making love to Michael Devon, she closed her eyes and pretended he was Cameron Pope.

And then she realized her father was talking to her.

“So, my darling daughter, what do you think?” Ray asked.

Liz blinked. “Think about what?”

Ray frowned. “You didn’t hear a word I said. I repeat, I would like you to accompany me to a dinner in Frankfort tomorrow night. We’ll take the chopper, of course, which means your mother won’t be going. It’s kind of a big deal for the Serenity Inn. Our chef is receiving his third Michelin star rating.”

“Oh. Sure, I’d love to,” Liz said. “Do I get to dress up?”

“No ball gown, but definitely after-five wear,” Ray said.

Liz smiled. She did so like to sparkle.

***

The rain came, just as Cameron suspected. He woke to the sound of it hitting the roof and got up to look out. Ghost barely stirred as Cameron pulled a blanket up over the dog’s back.

It was just after midnight.

The house was chilly, but instead of turning up the thermostat, Cameron put a log on the still-glowing embers in the fireplace and then moved to the front windows. Rain was pouring off the roof and running in rivulets down the gentle slope of the clearing. Everything in the forest had taken shelter, and he couldn’t help but think how lucky they were that it hadn’t been raining when Biggers took Lili. Tracking in this downpour would have been impossible.

And then he caught a glimpse of his own reflection and almost didn’t recognize himself. Some days he felt a thousand years old and on others barely out of his teens.

As his focus shifted back to the rain, he remembered it had been raining the morning he left Angel asleep in her bed. The trip back to the front lines outside of Kabul had been endless and full of regret. He would be sorry for the rest of his life that he never said goodbye and that he didn’t know her last name.

Suddenly Ghost was beside him. He whined and then bumped his head against the back of his master’s leg.

“It’s raining like hell, boy. You sure you want to go out in this?”

Ghost looked up.

Cameron opened the door and out Ghost went, disappearing into the downpour. Cameron left the door ajar and ran to get a towel, and when Ghost came back, he mopped him up as best he could, then settled him down in his bed by the fire to finish drying. Sleep, it seemed, had abandoned the both of them, but Cameron was too antsy to watch TV, and he didn’t want to read.

Instead, he poured himself a shot of whiskey and downed it neat, then pulled a throw pillow and a big blanket from the back of the sofa and curled up on the floor beside his dog. The heat from the fire felt good on his feet. Ghost whined again, and Cameron guessed walking out in the rain had hurt his paw.

“I’m sorry, boy,” he said softly, then thrust his fingers through the thick ruff of fur at the dog’s neck and stared into the fire.

Finally, his eyes closed, and when he woke again, it was morning. The rain had stopped and water was dripping from everything in sight.

***

Special Agents Howard and Pickard had made a discovery. Five of the names from Jack Barton’s list were on NamUs, the national missing and unidentified persons registry. Three of the names were before Kevin Vanzant’s arrival at the campground. Two since, or three if you counted the recently rescued baby. Vanzant’s presence could just be coincidence, but the fact that all of them had passed through Barton’s property, or from the community of Jubilee, now made the agents suspicious of the owner as well.

Initially, they were confused as to why someone had yet to make a connection between all these missing people and Jubilee, until they dug further and found out that Jubilee was not the last place the missing people’s credit cards had been used. Each of those who’d gone missing had purchases on those cards in other parts of the state, supposedly after they’d left the area.

But Howard wasn’t convinced.

“What if this is just a ploy?” he asked. “What if these women have been sold into human trafficking? Their luggage and personal effects would have gone with them. I know this is a long shot, but Jubilee would be a mecca for that. What if the gang took the women, then used their clothing and credit cards to mislead the authorities on their last known locations? They could dress up females of the gang and send them to different places across the tristate area to use the cards, and no one would ever know all the women had actually gone missing from here.”

Pickard blinked.

“If that’s happening, it’s brilliant. But how do we prove this? Capturing Biggers has spooked the people we’ve had under surveillance in Frankfort. All of a sudden, they’re nowhere to be found. And I just got info that Lindy Sheets’s car is still parked at her last known residence, but her personal belongings from that room are gone. We’re either going to find her body, or she’s on the run.”

Howard frowned. “This changes everything. We need someone on-site in Jubilee. A new face in a town full of strangers will go unnoticed. I need to call the director.”