“The rain we had is actually a help for this. When he gets down like that, he can see anywhere there’s been a disturbance in the moisture pattern.”
“But it could be anybody.”
“At this hour on a Sunday morning, it’s not likely to be.”
She couldn’t argue with that. Why should she? Besides, what other method did they honestly have, other than a wide search net?
“If anything happens to her...” Connie didn’t finish the thought. She couldn’t. Her hands clenched into fists so tight that her short nails bit into her palms. “Micah...”
“I know.” His tone was grim. “I know. I killed once to protect Faith from her ex. I’ve got kids of my own. Trust me, Connie, you won’t get to your gun fast enough.”
She believed him. One look at his face, and she believed him.
And there was Ethan, moving now along the edge of the park. His face looked every bit as grim and determined as his father’s. In her heart, she understood that these two men were as dedicated to finding Sophie safe and alive as she was. Gage, too, she thought, remembering his face. He’d lost his whole family to a car bomb many years ago. He knew what she was facing.
The support from those three was enough to light a flame of courage in her heart. They would get Sophie back. Soon.
* * *
Back at the sheriff’s office, a command post was building. Velma ran off copies of Leo’s photo and handed them out to the locals. Pretty soon every road in the county had a patrol on it, even the muddiest back roads, where ranchers and their hired hands patrolled with shotguns, looking behind every bush and tree. In town, residents combed every street, alleyway and backyard. With cell phones and CBs, contact was maintained. Airwaves crackled with calls as people reported nothing on one road and announced their intention to move to another. Others mounted their horses to go places vehicles couldn’t on the muddy ground.
Micah and Connie heard a great deal over the car’s radio. “That bastard is gonna need a hole in the ground,” Micah remarked.
They were now following Ethan down a quiet side street. He strode now, as if he knew exactly where he was going. Micah picked up the radio. “What’s going on, Ethan?”
“She was picked up by a car at the park. I can just about see the tire tracks heading this way.”
Micah looked at Connie. “He’s good. Trust him.”
“He’s all I can trust,” Connie said.
“I meant something else, but I guess now’s not the time. You can trust all your neighbors, Connie. That’s one thing I’ve learned living here. When the chips are down, these folks get together.”
“I know. God, I wonder...” She trailed off.
“Wonder what?”
“Oh, last night we played some poker. Julia thought it would be a good lesson for Sophie in risk-taking and calculating risks versus benefits.”
“And you’re wondering if that had something to do with Sophie’s decision to climb out her window.”
“Yes. What if I helped her to take this risk?”
Micah fell silent for a bit as they followed Ethan. They were getting closer and closer to one of the least-used county roads, one that had no destination other than the mountains. Then he spoke. “You can’t blame yourself. I doubt she made up her mind based on a poker game.”
“She’s seven. Anything could have been enough to influence her.”
“Exactly. That’s the point, Connie. She’s seven. She must have been thinking about doing this since Friday, when she saw him. It was probably planned then. I don’t think a card game had anything to do with it, any more than playing Candyland would have. Regardless of what your mother might have said, Sophie’s very young. I doubt she was extrapolating the lessons of poker to life.”
“Except for what my mother said.”
“Julia was talking over Sophie’s head. Maybe in time she could have learned something valuable from the game, but from playing for an hour or two? Too abstract.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I’ve been raising my own. At that age, they’re pretty damn literal.”
She nodded, shoving down another wave of guilt and fear that she had somehow pushed Sophie into this craziness.
She should have tried to establish a relationship between Sophie and Leo, she thought now. Maybe if her daughter had seen him in prison often enough, she wouldn’t now have the kind of curiosity and need that made her want to climb out a second-story window.
If it was Leo.
That thought terrified her. A total stranger scared her more than Leo. At least he was a known quantity. His violence, ugly as it was, hadn’t been directed at children in some sick way. So why would he want to kill Sophie? To punish Connie? Somehow that didn’t add up in her mind.
The problem was, nothing was adding up quite right. Fear and terror rode her shoulders, whispered in her ears and interfered with rational thinking.
They reached the county road. Ethan squatted, looking both ways, then came back to the car. He climbed in the backseat.
“Drive slow,” he said. “They headed west. What’s out there?”
“Nothing,” Micah said. “Mountains. He could have come back into town.”
“Drive up to the western edge, then I’ll check for turnoffs.”
Connie felt an absolute wave of certainty come over her. “He didn’t come back into town. He had to know everyone would be looking for him. He took her to the old mining camp.”
For several moments the car was filled with a silence interrupted only by the quiet hum of the engine and the whine of tires on wet pavement.
All of sudden Micah floored it. “You’re right,” he said grimly. “And that place is probably as dangerous as he is. Maybe more so.”
Connie nodded, feeling the blood drain from her face. Unstable ground, old shafts ready to cave in, buildings standing merely from the pressure of memory. Even without Leo, Sophie could get killed up there just by taking one wrong step. And Connie doubted Leo had any idea just how dangerous the place was.
“Hurry,” she said. “Oh, God, hurry!”
The closer they drew to the mountains, the worse the road grew. Past the last ranch, it was mainly used in the autumn by hunters, and sometimes in summer by people who wanted to hike. After the winter, it desperately needed grading again, but as muddy and rutted as it was, good drainage kept them from bogging down. Better still, they could see the fresh tire tracks made since the night’s rain.
Micah spared no speed, sometimes skidding in the mud, but going as fast as he possibly could.
As they began the climb, trees closed in around them.
“I’ve gotta slow down, Connie. We can’t risk driving past him.”
“I know. I understand.” And she did. But she hated it. She peered intently into the shadows beneath the evergreens, feeling the air grow steadily cooler as they climbed. Ethan gripped her shoulder and squeezed comfortingly.
“I’m looking out the left side,” he said. “You concentrate on the right.”
“Thanks.”
Finally they rounded the last curve before the old mining camp, and Connie gasped as she saw the vehicle, a battered old pickup, muddy