“I don’t think it ever can.”
“If it ever does, I may cash in my chips.”
He surprised her with a quiet laugh.
She looked at him, something she’d been trying to avoid by pretending a fascination for the pattern in the curtains or the back of her hands. “I didn’t mean that to be funny.”
“I know you didn’t. I laughed because my reaction is the same. It’s bad enough we have to try to understand enough to predict him. That’s as much understanding as I ever want to have.”
“More than enough. And we start as usual with the same bare-bones outline. Probably male, most likely white, late twenties to early thirties, drives a car that doesn’t stand out...” She trailed off. “A lot of blanks to fill in.”
“It could be a woman.”
“Quit reminding me we can’t eliminate anyone.”
At that he laughed freely, and as much as she didn’t like most men, she joined in. It felt good, released tension, and she hoped he was beginning to feel less resentful of having a woman for a partner.
In fairness, he couldn’t feel any more resentful of her than she felt of him. She sighed as the laughter died. Somewhere in the depths of the house the heat kicked on. First came a wave of chilly air, followed by warmer air that smelled a little musty.
The doorbell rang. She let him answer it. She heard Cade and another man exchange a few words, then Cade ushered in the sheriff along with a blast of cold air. The first thing that struck her was that one side of his face had been burned and showed old, shiny scar tissue. The next was that he limped, and occasionally pain flickered across his face. The car bomb.
“Gage Dalton,” he said, pulling off his glove and offering his hand. She rose and shook it. Cade took his jacket while DeeJay introduced herself. And even though it was a female thing to do, which she usually avoided, she asked if he wanted coffee.
“Always,” he answered promptly.
“I’ll get it,” Cade said.
DeeJay waved Gage Dalton to a chair and didn’t miss the way he winced as he sat.
“Long day,” Gage said.
She didn’t want to dally on niceties. “When did the boy disappear?”
“Four days ago, after school. His dad was in town to buy supplies at the feed store and told the boy he’d pick him up after school. When he got there, the boy was gone and the dad assumed they must have crossed wires and he’d taken the bus home after all. But the bus arrived, and no kid.”
DeeJay nodded, seeing it all so clearly. “No one saw him on the bus?”
“Nope. So it had to have happened while he was waiting for his dad.”
“How old is he?”
“Twelve.”
Cade returned with the coffee. Given the size of the house, he couldn’t have missed any of the conversation. “So these kids are fitting a profile? Not an age group?”
“That’s how it’s looking. I can show you all the photos, from this time and last time. He’s picking the small skinny boys, all of them with dark hair so far. He’s definitely choosing by physical appearance.”
“I guess that tells us something,” Cade muttered as he passed DeeJay her coffee and sat at the other end of the couch.
For a minute, no one said anything. Gage stretched out a leg and rubbed it absently, a gesture that had become unconscious through long experience. DeeJay recognized the signs. The sheriff was looking off into space, shaking his head slowly.
“It really chapped me that we didn’t catch up with him last time. He was gone by the time we found his trophies out in the mountain. Sickening. And not a damn thing to link anyone to it.”
“He likes taking risks,” DeeJay said. “He must know that everyone has figured out he’s back, and that everyone is being watchful. He must get a real thrill from riding close to the edge of discovery.”
“Meaning?” Gage asked.
“He’d not hiding. He’s out in plain sight.”
Cade nodded. “She’s probably right. At this point I’m inclined to say he’s making contact with these kids beforehand. In some capacity that makes him seem trustworthy.”
Gage nodded. “We figure he’s got to be a local. Only problem with that is that locals leave all the time because they can’t find work here. A lot of them came back with the jobs at the ski resort. Not much narrowing we can do that way.” He sighed. “But if he seems trustworthy to the kids...” He trailed off. These kinds of questions always trailed off in an investigation like this. Trying to overlook nothing meant often coming up against the lack of answers.
DeeJay spoke. “Tell us exactly what happened the other day. Were other kids or adults around? Did anybody see the boy before he disappeared?”
“Nobody remembers seeing a thing,” Gage answered. “The buses had come and gone, the walkers had headed home, the teachers were back inside or gone for the day. One of them questioned him when he was standing out front, but he answered he was waiting for his dad. He refused her offer to wait inside. That’s it. Dad was a little late and by the time he arrived, no kid.”
Cade and DeeJay exchanged looks. DeeJay spoke. “Our perp had to be somewhere he could see when the kid was alone. Completely alone. How big a time frame was that?”
“Maybe ten minutes,” Gage answered. “The teacher remembers the approximate time she spoke to him. The dad came along about ten minutes later.”
“Planned,” said Cade flatly. “Not a target of opportunity.”
“That’s the way I’m figuring it,” Gage said. “Hardly anybody knew that boy was going to be waiting there instead of taking the bus. He had brought a note to school that morning asking that he be excused from taking the bus home. A couple of school officials knew, the teacher that talked to him knew, maybe some of his friends. We checked the whereabouts of the administrators and teachers for the entire time between dismissal and his disappearance and came up blank.”
“Vehicles on the street or parking lot?”
“Lots. Teachers. Administration. Plenty of cover for one vehicle. Nobody would notice it unless it didn’t fit at all.”
DeeJay leaned forward, holding her mug in both hands. “How often do kids wait for a ride like that?”
“At this time of year? Almost never. It’s too dang cold and we were having some thick snow that day.”
“More cover,” she remarked. “Okay, our perp must have found out that kid would be out there. Question is, how? And why was the dad late?”
Gage sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “When he came out of the feed store, he had a flat tire.”
Cade looked at DeeJay. “Organized,” he said.
“Highly organized,” she agreed. “Leaves nothing to chance, but likes riding the edge. We need to go over those files again.” She looked at the sheriff. “Is everything in the file you sent to the state?”
“Pretty much. I didn’t include victim photos, but everything else is there.”
Cade spoke. “We need anything else surrounding the other disappearances that you or someone else can remember. I know this goes back a long way, but it helps us focus on what we need to think about.”
“You got it.”