Mark pulled out his phone and began shooting photos of the room as he moved cautiously toward the fallen bookcase. “I saw Maggie’s car by the back door. You’re sure no one stopped by, maybe took her to the emergency room for stitches? Maybe she called to a neighbor?”
“She hasn’t been admitted to the hospital. I called while I was waiting for you. Nor has her doctor seen her.”
His undersheriff nodded as he knelt down to get a closer shot at something on the floor. Even from where Flint was standing, he could see that Mark was shooting the blood splattered on the floor and on the spilled books. Too much blood and yet not enough to indicate that she was mortally wounded. He tried to find hope in that.
“Maggie’s friends and associate?” Mark asked calmly.
“No one has seen her.” Flint was surprised how calm he sounded. His heart pounded so hard he could barely hear himself think. He felt as if he was shaking all over. He knew better than to jump to conclusions, but all his instincts told him Maggie had been taken. It made no sense and yet...
“I know who has her,” Flint said. “Maggie left me a message earlier. She ran into my ex. She thought that Celeste overheard her on the phone telling me she was moving in with me. I don’t have to tell you that Celeste has done everything possible to keep us apart. If she is as determined as I think she is...”
The undersheriff nodded. “I can see why you would suspect Celeste, but let’s wait until we have all the facts, okay?”
At least Mark hadn’t said, “Try not to panic.” The words would have been wasted on him. He was panicking and with good reason. The scene in his living room showed a struggle. Maggie had been injured. Her cell phone smeared with blood indicated that she had possibly tried to call for help.
“I’m going to run over to the neighbors and see if they saw anything,” Flint said. His closest neighbor, Alma Ellison, lived kitty-corner from him down the street. She was smiling as she came to the door. He quickly asked her if she’d seen Maggie.
“I saw her when she arrived at your house. Is something wrong?”
“Did Maggie seem all right?”
“Yes. She waved and I waved back.”
“Did you see anyone else?”
Alma thought for a moment. “You know how little traffic we get out here. I did notice a brown van go by. It was driving so slow, I knew the driver must be lost. And there was one of those large dark SUVs. I can’t say if either of them stopped at your house since I got busy after that. Is Maggie all right?”
“I don’t know. I can’t seem to find her,” he said. “If you think of anything else...” She promised she would call him.
Back at the house, he told Mark what Alma had said. “Celeste drives a large dark SUV.”
“I’m going to have a deputy go by Celeste Duma’s house,” the undersheriff said.
From the moment he’d walked in and seen the mess and couldn’t find Maggie, he’d wanted to race over to Celeste’s house and demand to know what she’d done with Maggie. “I’ll go.”
Mark stopped him. “I’m sorry, Sheriff, but I can’t let you do that. With you, it would be confrontational. Please, let me handle this. You called me because you know you are too emotionally involved. This is now considered a crime scene. We’re going to treat it as such and pray that we’re wrong.”
Flint knew Mark was right. It was why he’d called him. He’d been afraid of doing something that would put Maggie in even more jeopardy. He listened to Mark on the phone for a moment and then stepped outside, needing the air.
He could tell that Mark was as worried as he was. The question was, where was Maggie now? His hand went to the small velvet box in his pocket. Why had he waited so long to ask her to marry him? What if...? He couldn’t bear to let himself even think it. He had to believe that she was still alive and that they would find her, he told himself as he stepped back inside the door. Mark was still on the phone.
“The only deputy close to town is Harp,” Mark said, covering the phone with his hand and making an it-will-be-all-right face. The county was large and the sheriff’s department was small. It meant stretching law enforcement to its limits sometimes. It was one reason Flint would love to get rid of Harp and get a better deputy.
Flint groaned silently. Deputy Harper Cole was the last person he wanted to depend on right now. He knew why Mark couldn’t go himself. He was protecting the possible crime scene—and Flint. If the DCI became involved, the first suspect was always the boyfriend. He listened to him tell Harp what to do at the Duma house.
“Get inside. Be polite. Try to have a look around and see if anything appears amiss. If Celeste and her husband will let you search the place without a warrant, great. Nice if you could check her car. Just listen, please.” Mark sighed. “Maggie Thompson is missing. Yes, the sheriff’s girlfriend. Now listen. Look for blood. I can’t get into it right now. There could have been an accident involving Celeste and Maggie. Call me if there is any question.” He turned back to Flint as he disconnected. “Harp is actually the best choice right now. No one takes him seriously. If you’re right about Celeste, she won’t be concerned about Harp showing up and should let him in without a warrant. That will save us time.”
Flint tried to breathe a little easier. “Great. I’m forced to depend on the town hero.”
Mark sighed. “It is going to be all right.”
A few months ago, Harp had managed to save two people’s lives. One of those lives belonged to Flint’s brother Darby. The other was Darby’s now wife, Mariah Ayers Cahill. Flint had been ready to fire the deputy before that night and would have months ago if Harp hadn’t been the mayor’s son. He’d given him more chances because of it. But Flint had reached his limit. He’d told Harp that if he messed up again... Then Harp had come through that night and was now the town hero. At least until he messed up big-time again.
And that was why Flint wished it was anyone but Harp going over to Celeste’s house. He knew his ex-wife. If she was behind this, she would lie. Flint would know if she was lying. He doubted Harp would.
He raked a hand through his hair as he glanced toward the fallen bookshelf. As crazy as he thought his ex was, he never really thought she was capable of...of whatever had happened here.
“We don’t know for sure it was Celeste,” Mark said.
Just as they didn’t know that she’d vandalized Maggie’s salon and almost set her house on fire? “She’s certainly capable. But if she did something to Maggie...” Flint couldn’t continue.
Mark laid a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t even know that the blood is Maggie’s. One step at a time. We’ll find her.”
He nodded, but he knew the statistics. The first seventy-two hours were crucial. But that wasn’t if the missing person was injured. He had no idea how badly Maggie had been bleeding. Maggie hadn’t been missing long. If they could find her soon... Otherwise, he knew he might never see her alive again.
“Why haven’t we heard from Harp yet?” Flint demanded.
“He hasn’t even had time to get over there. You need to stay calm. We have to work this one step at a time. Is there anyone else who might want to harm Maggie?”
“No.” He’d answered the question too quickly. Mark was looking at him with concern. “I don’t know. The only person she’s had run-ins with that I know of was Celeste.” He realized he didn’t know if Maggie had had other problems with anyone. Maggie was so independent. He loved that about her, but now he wondered if she would have told him if she’d had trouble with anyone else.
Celeste was a different story since she was his ex. Maggie seemed to think that he could do something about her. Now he sure wished he had.