Find Me (32 page)

Youngstown High School gymnasium
, 7:00 A.M.

As if the dire situation needed any help, the winter storm everyone but Sarah appeared to know about had dropped three inches of snow in the last four hours.

Sarah wished she could give Conner hope.

But in this case there was no precedence for hope.

No evidence that had led to a real suspect.

There was no genuine hope to offer.

Chief Willard called for silence. The assembled mob settled down.

"You have your search areas. Stay with your assigned groups. And for God's sake, be careful out there. We're all worried sick about Polly but we don't need anyone getting hurt and slowing down the search. Now let's get going."

Groups of citizens piled out the exit doors.

More than one bumped into Sarah as they rushed out of the gym. She tiptoed. Looked for Kale. She saw the top of his dark head as he exited with Deputy Brighton and several others whose faces she didn't recognize.

At some point this morning, maybe during that terrifying epiphany, she'd decided to call him Kale.

If she could just find him now…

She looked around again. No luck.

"Sarah."

Her attention shifted right. Jerald Pope approached her. She was surprised to see him here. Yeah, he was a lifelong resident but rich guys like him didn't usually get involved on this level. Tossing money around was one thing, but trudging around in the snow and cold was entirely another.

"I didn't see you in the crowd," she said by way of greeting.

He glanced around the gym. "It's a good showing of community support. Many of the people are from surrounding towns."

"Yeah." She glanced at the last of the teams filing out the doors. "I should get out there."

"If you haven't already been assigned to a group, you can go with us." Jerald gestured to where his wife waited with their group. "We'd love to have you join us."

Sarah started to say no… but since both his wife and daughter were in his group as well as the Harvey family and another she didn't recognize, she changed her mind. "Sure."

"You know the Harveys, of course," Jerald said as they walked toward the group. "Yeah."

"It was important to Jerri Lynn that we be a part of their group."

Sarah just bet it was.

Quick introductions were made and car assignments given. Sarah would be riding with Jerald and Lynda Pope and two of the people she didn't recognize.

She'd hoped to get some time with Barton Harvey since he'd obviously been avoiding her. The swelling in his cheek had diminished but the red had turned a less than attractive shade of blue. Maybe that was why he'd avoided her. He had to know she knew.

As they exited the gym, coat hoods went up and gloves went on. She decided to go for broke. "Mr. Harvey."

He paused. The others kept going. Everyone wanted to get started. Engines roared as vehicle after vehicle rushed from the snowy parking lot.

"I missed you at the inn. I had a question for you."

"We need to catch up with our assigned groups," he groused.

"Valerie Gerard worked for you last summer." Sarah watched his eyes. She had to word her question very carefully or risk giving away her source. "Was she having problems? I understand the two of you had some pretty intense discussions."

His pupils flared. "I've been over this with the chief. Ask him your question."

He turned away. What the hell? "Were the two of you involved?"

Barton Harvey halted. For three beats the snow fell around him and everything else seemed to stop.

Then he walked away, left her standing there without a response.

Whether he knew it or not, he'd just given Sarah his answer. He was definitely hiding something. Something intensely personal… to him.

She dashed to the waiting SUV. Mercedes. Black.

Sarah climbed into the back seat with the other two passengers. Loren and Carla somebody.

The ride to Beauchamp Road was silent. The Popes had been given that area since it was their home territory. Judging by the pricey coats the other two were wearing they were from the same exclusive neighborhood.

As they unloaded, Jerald suggested directions for dividing up the area. Loren whatever-his-name-was agreed. He and his wife headed south. In the distance Sarah could see another vehicle doing the same.

"Sarah," Jerald said, "the three of us will take the north end of our sector."

The shore. The water.

The ocean fuels him… makes him feel powerful.

"Jerald knows every cave in the area," Lynda explained.

Sarah's gaze settled on Jerald Pope. Rich. Powerful. Lived by the water. Had always lived here. Instinct nudged her. She glanced at his feet, at least a size ten. She had no plausible reason to consider him more of a suspect than anyone else. Other than the instincts of a kid.

"You're sure you're up to this?" he asked his wife.

She nodded. "I'll be fine." She glanced at Sarah. "I want to do my part."

Jerald led the way behind his home. The steps carved from the cliffs would have made going easier had they not been covered with a fresh blanket of snow.

Lynda's descent was closely monitored by her husband. Sarah's instincts hummed but she was torn. Part of her wanted to watch every move Pope made. But the other part of her, the part that wasn't so certain, kept dragging her attention back to his wife. Lynda looked physically fit. Why would she not be up to this?

As they reached the shore, Jerald surveyed left then right. "If we split up, we can work faster. I'll take this side." He pointed left. "Sarah, why don't you and Lynda take that direction?"

"How far do we go?" Sarah didn't know the area well enough to comprehend the division of territory. Right now, focusing on the search was top priority. She could analyze the Popes an hour from now.

"About two miles." Jerald looked to Lynda. "To the Point. Sam Drake's team is taking the sector beyond that as well as the loop that circles the woods."

"We'll meet you back here," Lynda assured him.

Jerald glanced back once as he headed left.

Sarah had to restrain the need to run after him. Was letting him out of her sight a mistake? There was no legitimate reason to jump to conclusions.

"There are two caves on our side," Lynda explained as she ushered Sarah to the right. "The Point he mentioned is the parking area where those who live on the islands"—she indicated the four small islands that dotted the inlet—"leave their vehicles to travel by boat out to whichever one they own."

Sarah nodded, forced herself to focus. She had her flash-light in her bag. She was sure Lynda had one in her bag as well since the chief had gone over the list of items each team needed to ensure they carried.

The walk along the rocky shore was rough going. The snow had melted enough to be treacherous between the rocks since the temperature hovered around thirty-eight degrees. They were very lucky the storm hadn't brought colder air or search efforts would be exceedingly limited.

Sarah kept thinking how devastated Conner's family was. And of Polly's bubbly spirit. If she was out here—Sarah surveyed the foggy shoreline—she would be scared, possibly injured.

Polly would die… just like the others… if she wasn't found. Fast.

Sarah didn't want that to happen. An unfamiliar ache rose in her chest. She had to figure this out. Damned fast.

"The first cave is over here." Lynda pointed to the cliffs. "Access is limited to the first twenty or so feet." She glanced at Sarah. "It's pretty cramped in there."

"Do you want me to go first?" Lynda shook her head. "I can go first." As they reached the mouth of the cave, the icy water stood in their path. Only a few inches deep, but without boots that frigid cold was going to suck.

Lynda, realizing the same, glanced at Sarah's Converses. "I think maybe you should stay out here."

"What size do you wear?" Sarah glanced at her waterproof snow boots. "Seven, but—"

"I wear an eight, but sometimes a seven works." Sarah sat on the closest boulder. "Let me give it a try."

"Eight's Jerri Lynn's size." Lynda tugged off a boot. "Occasionally we can wear the same shoe." She pulled the second one free. "In fact, we both have these boots and sometimes we get them mixed up."

With effort, Sarah pulled the boots on. Snug, but bearable. "This'll work. You stay here and I'll check it out."

"It's been a long time, but I've been in there before," Lynda argued.

"No offense," Sarah insisted, "but your husband seemed worried about you out here. Let me do this. I'm experienced at this sort of thing."

Lynda sighed impatiently but eased down on a big rock of her own. "He worries too much. This isn't the first time my specialist has changed my medication. Jerald frets every time as if it's the end of the world."

Sounded serious to Sarah since she didn't take Jerald Pope as one to worry unnecessarily. Would a man who cared so for his wife and daughter be capable of such heinous murders? Others had. Sarah shook off the thought, turned her full attention on Lynda Pope. "If you don't mind my asking, why do you need medication?"

"It's nothing. Lots of women are affected."

They traded footwear.

"Mitral valve prolapse," Lynda explained. "I was diagnosed a couple of years ago. It's a little more complicated than the usual case. I've been on several different medications over the years, but I'm fine. Really." She tugged on a Converse. "It flares up now and again, particularly if I'm under stress."

Heart condition. Sarah rode out the adrenaline charge, careful not to let the tension show. "What do they give you for that?"

"Last time"—Lynda pulled on the other Converse—"it was propranolol. This time something new." She frowned. "I can't recall the name of it. I just got it two days ago. I haven't even filled the prescription yet." Her gaze collided with Sarah's. "Don't say anything. Jerald would not be pleased if he knew I'd left Bangor without getting it filled."

"Bangor?" Sarah controlled her breathing though her heart rate had sped up.

"That's where I go to see my specialist." Lynda smiled. "Stephen King lives there, you know."

Sarah nodded then stood, couldn't wait to get started. The sooner they covered their sector, the sooner she could find Kale. "You wait here. I'll be back as soon as I've checked things out."

Lynda stood. "No hurry. I'll be waiting."

Sarah resisted the impulse to reach for her cell and call Kale with the news about Lynda Pope's medication. Sarah had to do this right. Polly could be here…

As Sarah turned her back, the hair on her neck lifted.

Was she turning her back on a killer?

Or a killer's wife?

Public Safety Office
, 9:30 P.M.

Kale was the last to return from the search.

He parked on the street and trudged toward the front entrance.

"Mr. Conner!"

Three reporters, cameramen on their heels, rushed toward him.

He glared at each one. "Don't even think about it."

As he pushed past them, headed for the door, one shouted at his back. "How does it feel to know your sister could be the next victim?"

Kale whipped around, charged up to the guy and decked him.

Shouts accompanied the crowd's withdrawal.

"Come on, Kale."

Two deputies dragged him inside.

"What'd you come that way for?" Charles Collins asked. "You knew they were out there."

Kale glared at the deputy, shook loose of the man's hold, "Leave me alone."

"Sure, man."

Both deputies backed off.

Kale headed for the chief's office. Every damned body in his path stopped and stared.

He didn't want to hear their words of sympathy. He didn't want anything… but to find his sister.

In the chief's office, the mayor and the fed were waiting.

The grim expression on the chief's as well as the mayor's face brought him up short.

"What?" He braced. Knew it was bad. Had they found…

"Sit down, Kale," the chief suggested.

"Fucking tell me," Kale snapped. It was all he could do not to grab the man and shake the hell out of him.

The fed closed the door.

Kale cut him a lethal look.

"Mr. Conner, you need to sit down." When Kale didn't do as he said, he added, "Now."

Defeat drained the fight out of him. Kale dropped into the nearest chair.

He hadn't had the heart to call his parents before he came here. Because he'd come up empty-handed. They were counting on him to find her.

And he'd failed.

Goddamn it!

"Kale," the mayor began, "Marta Hanover is with your mother and her husband is with your father."

Kale's heart sank into his boots. He blinked to hold back the tears. "What the fuck is it you're telling me?" He looked from the mayor to the chief and back.

Agent August propped himself on the corner of the chief's desk since all the chairs were taken. "At five this evening a dozen roses were delivered to your parents' home, Mr. Conner."

Hours in the cold hadn't numbed him, but that revelation numbed Kale to the marrow of his bones.

"We now believe there is a connection between this delivery and those that came to the… others."

The wetness that tracked down Kale's face was the one thing he could feel. Hot, it burned his skin. "Where did they come from?" He didn't ask what the card said because he knew.
Deepest regrets
…

"A florist in Bangor. Two days ago, someone left the order in an envelope on the counter, cash enclosed. Unfortunately, the envelope was discarded."

So they couldn't figure out who left it. They couldn't do anything. Kale refused to accept it. "No one saw anyone? No store surveillance? None in the stores nearby maybe caught an entrance or exit?"

"I'm sorry." August said. "There's nothing. Except…" The man's gaze bored in Kale's. "Since the order was left to deliver the roses to your parents' home two days ago, we know that your sister was on his list already."

Kale's heart stumbled.

His sister was going to die.

Soon.

Agony twisted his insides as his mind replayed what he'd seen that morning when he and the chief had found Valerie Gerard.

"As if that isn't bad enough," the chief said, his voice lacking any emotion, "Rachel Appleton went and hung her- self this morning. She waited until after the boys left for school. Her husband came home for lunch and found her."

Jesus Christ. Kale wanted to scream at God. To demand why he was allowing this to happen.

The door flew open and Sarah burst in.

Deputy Brighton was close behind. "I'm sorry, Chief, I couldn't stop her."

Kale couldn't look at Sarah. He knew what he would see.

Pity. Certainty.

"It's all right, Karen." The chief shook his head. "Just close the door."

Karen did as the chief asked.

Sarah jerked off one of the boots she wore. "Check this against the boot imprint you found at the Appleton murder scene." She yanked off the other one. "They belong to Lynda Pope. She takes propranonol."

"How did you come by these?" August picked up the first boot she'd shed. Studied it, though his face said he'd rather not touch it.

"Doesn't matter," Sarah insisted. "Just do it." She was out of breath as if she'd run a long ways.

For the first time since she'd entered the room she looked at Kale. He couldn't meet her gaze.

While August inspected the boot, the chief said, "Ms. Newton, we have four others here in Youngstown who are currently taking that drug and who knew the… girls. We're aware that Ms. Pope is one of them. The others are the Reverend Mahaney and Marta Hanover, Geneva Williams and  Loretta Steele. Each of those persons has an airtight alibi for the times the victims went missing. Not to mention one of those five wouldn't be physically capable of carrying out the abduction."

"You've talked to Lynda Pope?" Sarah demanded.

"I talked to her half an hour ago. She'd just arrived home from the search."

Sarah shook her head. "I left her house not more than half an hour ago."

August nodded. "When we arrived she mentioned that her husband was taking you back to the gym." He tapped the boot. "By the way, these aren't a size eight."

"You saw me wearing it, didn't you?" she argued. "You know that sizes can vary."

Kale couldn't take this anymore. He had to do something.

He was on his feet without any idea how he'd gotten there. "I've got to get back out there."

"Now just a minute, son." The chief pushed out of his chair and came around to where Kale stood. "The snow's started falling hard again and the temperature has dropped to well under thirty degrees. You can't go back out there. The best thing you can do is get home and see to your folks."

All the emotions that had drained from Kale suddenly erupted anew. "Are you out of your mind, Chief? I have to find my sister. This bastard is going to…" He couldn't say it. Couldn't make his lips form the words.

"Check the boot," Sarah demanded. "I don't give a shit what kind of alibi she has. Check the fucking boot."

Kale couldn't listen to any more of this. He jerked the door open and walked out.

Those same faces, faces he knew, stared at him as he strode to the rear entrance. Voices spoke to him but he didn't listen. He just kept walking.

He had to do something.

He couldn't just go home… without his sister.

He pushed out the back door, stormed across the parking lot.

"Kale!"

He didn't slow.

"Kale, goddamn it, stop!"

Sarah grabbed at his left arm, dragged him to a stop.

"Listen to me."

He glared at her. Shook off her touch.

"There's something…" She shook her head. "Something about the Popes. I can't explain it. I wasn't even sure what or who it was that kept giving me this feeling until today. Matilda said…" Sarah shook her head when he would have butted in, urged him to listen with her eyes. "You have to trust me. I know what I'm talking about. And I'm telling you it's one of them or maybe both."

He almost left her standing there. But the determination on her face… in her voice… made him hesitate.

The boots… his gaze dropped to her feet. She stood there, the snow halfway up to her knees.

Then he remembered she'd pulled the boots off in the chief's office.

She was barefoot except for the socks.

His gaze connected with hers. "You're crazy, Sarah Newton."

"Right now my shrink would probably agree with you."

She was going to get frostbite.

Before his one functioning brain cell kicked in, he acted on instinct.

He scooped her up and headed for his Jeep.

Right now nobody but Sarah seemed to have narrowed down a probable suspect. The others just kept looking for reasons to rule out suspects.

That left Kale with one choice.

Conduct his own interview.

Right after he conducted his own search.

He wasn't a cop.

He didn't need a search warrant.

Or an invitation.