Vanished (11 page)

When J.T. stepped onto the sidewalk, rosy orange streaks fanned out across the eastern sky. The gray light of dawn muted the landscape, and the quiet of a town still asleep contrasted with what had gone on the night before.

Madison looked up and down the street. “You would never think that a kidnapping occurred here. It seems so peaceful, the perfect place.”

“There's no perfect place.”

“Yes, there is but not here on earth.”

J.T. strode down the sidewalk that ran the length of Lakeshore Drive. “After giving myself to Christ six
years ago, I didn't think anything could shake my faith. Well, I was wrong.”

Madison stopped, forcing J.T. to do likewise. He turned toward her, bleakness erasing any gleam from his eyes. “Don't give up hope. This is the time to cling to Christ. He's your salvation.”

J.T. expelled a long breath. “I know. But when I heard my little girl asking where I was—” he laid his hand on his chest “—it felt as though my heart shattered into hundreds of pieces.” His voice broke. He swallowed several times. “The pain was unbearable. Why didn't the kidnapper come after
me?
I'm the one he's angry with. Ashley has nothing to do with it.”

“As much as I wish it weren't so, the innocent often suffer. God is with her.”

“It didn't sound like it on that tape.” J.T. started forward again.

Madison bled for him. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. He glanced back, agony in every line on his face. “God is with her and you.”

“Six years ago when I was drinking heavily after my wife's death, I thought I couldn't go any lower. Again, I was wrong. This is rock bottom.”

Drinking heavily.
The words knifed through Madison. Her past held her in a haunting nightmare for a few seconds before she realized she wasn't a little girl living in Chicago, but grown and in Crystal Springs.

“Right before you came in, I almost left to find something to drink. I wanted to, but I can't. Not if I'm going to find Ashley. What if she's lost to me? I don't know if I can fight the urge…” His words came to a quivering halt.

Madison planted herself in front of him and took hold of his hands. “Don't do this to yourself. Don't try to second-guess what might happen. You're strong. You'll deal with it for Kim and Neil's sakes. You have people here who will help you.”

His gaze drilled into her. “You're the first person I've told about my alcoholism. I don't like sharing that past life with anyone. Kim and Neil don't even know all that I went through.”

“Don't kid yourself. Your children are sharp. They knew.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Well, maybe Neil knew something was going on, but I was careful not to around them.”

“Probably Kim did, too. I don't usually talk about my past, either. My father was an alcoholic, and he never kicked the habit. He drank until the day he died. His liver failed him.”

“How old were you?”

“Twelve. I knew, had for years.”

J.T. began to walk again, clasping Madison's hand. “You know the part about drinking that was the worst?”

“No.” She didn't know if she wanted to hear the answer. The whole subject of the conversation was too painful.

“The loneliness. I lost all connections with others. I lived for the next drink. It numbed my feelings to the point that I didn't feel at all.”

“You can only run so long from your emotions.” She'd done her share of avoiding her feelings, especially after her father's and later her brother's death. As a teenager she had rebelled until she'd gotten herself in a situation where she'd had to decide whether she was
going to follow the crowd she hung with and do drugs or say no to what they offered her. Thankfully she turned to her family's minister and found a place for herself in God's house.

“Yeah, I know you eventually hit a brick wall. When I finally started A.A., I had to face everyone in the group. That's when I sought God's guidance.”

“And He was there for you through that journey.”

“I wouldn't have made it without Him. These past six years I've been trying my best to make it up to my children.” As J.T. passed a bench on the outskirts of the park, he gestured to it. “Want to sit? I think it's still too early to see the kids.”

“That would be nice. My mind wants to keep going. My body is saying slow down.”

Madison sat next to J.T., their hands no longer clasped. She missed the physical connection that had offered her some solace as their conversation plunged her into her past. Finding out that J.T. was a recovering alcoholic shook her more than she cared to admit. The day before when he had said something about his problem, she'd pushed it away successfully, not able to deal with it at that moment. She never wanted to live as she had growing up with her father and his problem. It nearly destroyed her and her family.

The rosy orange streaks faded into the blue of the sky as the sun peeked over the horizon. A male cardinal flew overhead, followed by its mate. They perched on a branch of an elm tree that shaded the bench. The scent of some honeysuckle bushes to the left sprinkled the air
with their sweetness. Any other time she would appreciate the beauty around her.

A station wagon drove by, slowed down when the driver saw J.T. and her and pulled over to the side of the road. A man leaned over and said, “Anything, J.T.?”

“No, Howard.”

“If I can help, please let me know.”

“Will do.”

As the car drove away, J.T. watched it until it turned onto a side street and disappeared from view. “That's one of Neil's baseball coaches, the one I told you about from Texas who always wears his cowboy boots.”

“He's a teacher?”

“No, a lay coach. He volunteers his time with the high school team and at our church. He sells real estate around here and in Central City. That's probably where he's heading.”

“You have a lot of people who care what happens.”

Another car turned onto Lakeshore Drive. “Yes, and since the town is waking up, let's go. I don't want to have to answer questions and hear the pity in their voices.” Instead of continuing on the sidewalk, J.T. rounded the bench. “Let's cut across the park. I know a shortcut.”

“And that way hopefully you won't see anyone?”

“Right. We think alike.”

Yes, they did, Madison thought, remembering back to the year before. After the initial awkwardness, they had worked well together as a team on Emma's brother's murder. In all that time she had never known that J.T. had once had an alcohol problem. Were there any other secrets he was keeping? It was the secrets that
destroyed a relationship—
Whoa, where in the world had that come from?
The thought took Madison totally by surprise.

Before J.T. had a chance to ring the bell at Colin's house, Kim threw open the door and fell into his embrace. “I called the station and Derek said you were coming over here and should be here any second. That was ten minutes ago.” She leaned back and stared up at him, fear in her eyes. “Where have you been?”

“I didn't want to wake you up, so we stopped at the park for a while. I'm sorry, honey, if I scared you. You should have called me on my cell.”

Kim's gaze widened. “I didn't think of that. I—I'm not thinking straight.”

He smoothed her hair back from her face. “Did you get any rest last night.”

“No! How can I?”

“I think we should talk to the doctor about getting you something to help you sleep.”

“How can I sleep when Ashley is—” Kim twisted away and stalked into the house.

J.T. sighed. “I know how she feels.”

“Dad, what happened last night?” Neil came into the foyer as Madison and J.T. entered the Fitzpatricks' house.

“The kidnapper never picked up the money.”

Madison noticed J.T. didn't elaborate on what went down, and she understood he was trying to protect his children as long as possible. She saw Kim hanging back by the entrance into the living room. Grace stood next to her. The aroma of coffee and ham saturated the house.

“Can you two stay for breakfast? Emma and Colin
are almost finished preparing it. Knowing my nephew, I'm sure there's plenty for everyone.” Grace, with her arm around Kim, stepped into the foyer.

Before J.T. could say yes or no, Madison shut the door behind her and said, “We would love to. I haven't eaten since early in the evening yesterday. I could especially use a cup of coffee.”

“Great.” Grace turned back into the living room with Kim.

Neil trailed his sister and Colin's aunt. J.T. didn't move.

“You're going to have to tell them everything sooner or later, J.T.”

“I wish I didn't have to. The ransom drop was botched. That's not gonna sit well with them.”

“It won't take long before the whole town knows.”

“And they need to hear it from me.” He took a step toward the living room.

Madison's cell phone rang. She flipped it open. “Spencer here.”

“Where are you?”

She heard the strain in Matthew's voice. “At the Fitzpatricks' with J.T.”

“The speedboat was found.”

Day three, 5:30 a.m.: Ashley missing fifty-nine hours

J.T.
paused at the entrance into Colin's living room and peered back at Madison on her cell. She stiffened, her mouth curved into a frown.

“Where was it found?”

Her question to the person on her phone alerted J.T. He swung around and waited.

“We'll be there right away. I'm sure J.T. knows where it is.” Madison snapped her cell closed.

“What was found?” He stepped toward her, not wanting anyone to hear if it was bad news.

“The speedboat.” She lowered her voice. “And a burned body.”

All energy siphoned from his legs. He clutched the edge of a table nearby. “Burned? Ashley?”

“No!” Madison moved close. “It was an adult.”

His eyelids slid shut while he dragged in a deep breath.

“The boat was on fire when it was spotted. Paul managed to put it out, but it was scorched pretty badly. An
other five or ten minutes and there would have been little left. The body was in the boat.”

Tension zipped through him. “Let's go.”

Madison stayed put. “You need to tell your kids something.”

He glanced toward the kitchen. “What? How much?” He rolled his shoulders to ease the ache in his muscles. “You're right. Thank goodness you're here to keep me focused.” All he had thought about was discovering whose boat it was and who the body in it was. A lead. They had so few real ones. But his children needed reassurances, more now than ever.

J.T. headed for the kitchen, Madison right behind him. Inside he found Neil and Kim sitting at the large table with Grace between them. Colin and his twin girls were across from Grace. Emma placed a platter of scrambled eggs and thick ham slices in the center, then took her chair.

Two empty seats beckoned. The aromas—coffee, ham, biscuits—teased him. His stomach churned with hunger, but he couldn't afford to eat. Not if this new development led to finding Ashley.

J.T. forced a half smile to his face. “That looks tempting, but Madison and I have to leave. She received a call. The speedboat that we thought we saw coming to pick up the ransom was found. Burned. How bad, I don't know.”

Neil leaped to his feet. “Where? Can I come?”

J.T. shook his head.

“At Eagle's Cove,” Madison said behind him.

“We need to process the scene. The fewer people in
volved the better it is. I'll let you know something when I know it.”

“I take it the ransom wasn't picked up.” Emma stood and walked to the counter.

“No, it wasn't. All that happened was this speedboat approached. The man driving must have seen something that spooked him and he made a U-turn.” Madison came to J.T.'s side.

“Here, take these.” Emma brought two steaming mugs of coffee to J.T. and Madison.

J.T. took a sip. “I'll call when I have news.” He walked to the table and kissed Kim on the top of her head. “Things may be looking up, honey. Eat my share of breakfast.”

“Can't you stay and have some before you go to Eagle's Cove?” Grace picked up the platter and spooned some eggs onto her plate. “The boat isn't going anywhere now that you have it.”

Always in the back of his mind he felt the clock ticking down. The longer Ashley was gone, the harder it would be to find her. A memory of kissing Ashley good-night the evening before she'd vanished sprang into his thoughts, producing a constriction in his chest. He began to walk toward the exit. “Not now. Thanks.”

“J. T. Logan, you need to take care of yourself. You need to eat.” Grace's hands rested on her waist.

“I'll grab something later. Promise.” He hurried from the room before they convinced him to take the time to sit down and eat something. How could he when Ashley might be out there somewhere—hungry, thirsty, alone?

Madison caught up with him on the porch. She handed him two slices of ham sandwiched between two
sections of a large biscuit. “Here. We can eat this and walk at the same time.”

He bit into the buttered biscuit. “Hmm. Grace makes the best ones in town.” He descended the steps and started for the sheriff's office.

When he approached his Jeep outside the office, he slipped behind the steering wheel. “Eagle's Cove is a secluded spot on the other side of the lake. It's about twenty minutes away from here.”

“Do you think the person burned in the boat is the kidnapper?”

“I doubt it. If so, who set fire to the boat? Mostly likely the kidnapper, covering his tracks.”

“What if he set the fire and fell before he could get away?”

“I suppose that is possible, but not likely.”

Day three, 6:30 a.m.: Ashley missing sixty hours

The stench of the charred remains of the boat and body filled the cove. As J.T. descended the hill to the shore, he spied the body, burned beyond recognition, propped up in the driver's seat as though he'd steered the hull up onto the beach. The reeking odor of scorched flesh overpowered every other smell. His stomach gurgled its protest. Bile rose into his throat.

“What do we have?” J.T. stepped to one side of the craft to inspect the crime scene.

“One of our patrol boats saw the fire and investigated. Paul used an extinguisher to try and put the fire out.” Matthew Hendricks gestured toward what little was left.
“As you can see, they didn't reach the scene in time. I don't know if we'll be able to get much. I guess we're lucky to have this. If Paul hadn't seen the smoke, there would be little left to process.”

Madison leaned toward the victim and examined the hands. “Doesn't look like we'll be able to get any fingerprints.”

“Maybe dental records will help us identify him.” The lead agent removed his FBI ball cap and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “The medical examiner should be here shortly.”

“Do we know whose boat this is?” Madison circled it, being careful not to disturb any evidence. She squatted and studied it. “J.T., do you know anyone with a boat that has a name that starts with
F-a.
”

He came around to where she was. The back was black with most of it burned, except for the partial letters that looked like an
F
and an
A.

She slanted a glance toward him. “Any boats reported missing?”

“You know now that I think about it my neighbor, Ross Morgan, has a speedboat about this size and the name of his is Fanfare.” J.T. flipped open his cell and punched in a number. This could be the lead they were looking for, the kidnapper's first mistake. “Derek, has anyone reported a boat missing?”

“The Lakeshore Marina called about a half hour ago, when the man who owns the marina came to work. Ross Morgan's boat has been stolen. I was gonna head out there when Susan came in to answer the phones.”

“Anyone spoken to Ross?”

“No one answered at his house.”

J.T. straightened and moved toward the body in the driver's seat. He tried not to breathe too deeply as he bent over the remains to see if he could tell if it was his neighbor. “I'll handle the theft.”

He closed his phone and continued his inspection. The body was about the same height as Ross, but that was about all he could tell. He stepped back, the thought making his stomach roil.

“Does this belong to Ross Morgan?”

He looked at Madison. “I believe so. It was reported stolen about a half hour ago.”

“Is this him?” Madison pointed toward the body.

“I don't know, but my neighbor isn't home and usually he is at this time of day.”

“Let's check it out while the crime scene is being processed.”

“We're on the same page. We can stop by the marina first and see if anyone saw anything. Then we need to pay Ross a visit even if I have to go all the way to Central City to his work.”

Day three, 7:30 a.m.: Ashley missing sixty-one hours

We're on the same page.
Madison couldn't get those words out of her head as J.T. pulled up in front of Ross Morgan's house, just two doors down from J.T.'s. The same place where the barking dog had been poisoned two days before. Coincidence? She didn't trust coincidences.

“Let's hope this gives us more information than the marina.” J.T. climbed from his Jeep and pocketed his keys.
“No wonder the boat was stolen. There's no security to speak of.” Madison walked beside him up to the Morgans' house.

J.T. grinned. “Fred watches the place at night until the owner shows up in the morning.”

“And Fred promptly falls asleep.”

“In his defense, we don't have much crime—that is—” J.T. massaged the back of his neck. “Forget I said that. Crime has hit this little town big-time.”

J.T. rang the doorbell and waited for a good minute before trying it again, pressing his finger on it for ten seconds. He frowned, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Didn't Derek say earlier he couldn't get anyone on the phone? Obviously Ross and Jill have gone to work.”

J.T. shot her a skeptical look. “Before seven in the morning? That's a bit early for them to go to work. What if something happened to them?”

While he opened the screen door and pounded on the wooden one, she peered into the large, living room window. “Everything looks like it's in place. No signs of a struggle or anything. Maybe we should check out the garage. See if a car is in there.”

After another minute J.T. backed away, letting the screen slam closed. A perplexed expression narrowed his gaze, glued to the entrance. “How do you feel about taking a ride to—”

The door swung open. Ross stood there, his hair messy, his eyes sleepy. He was barefoot in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. “J.T.? What are you doing here? What time is it? Six?”

“Seven-thirty, and we've been trying to get you for
over an hour. Derek Nelson called you several times. You've been here the whole time?”

Ross nodded slowly, pushing his fingers through his unruly hair. “Yes, I've been here all night. I guess I didn't hear the phone.” He rubbed his forehead, then his eyes. “I never sleep hard. I don't understand why I didn't hear the phone ringing.”

The last sentence was almost spoken as though she and J.T. weren't on his front porch. Ross pivoted and left the foyer. J.T. entered, watching the man retreat into his living room. Madison came up beside J.T.

“What's going on?”

J.T. leaned in so he could see into the room. “He's checking his phone messages.”

A minute later Ross returned. “I thought maybe Jill might have called.”

“She isn't here with you?” J.T. scanned the hallway that led to the back of the house.

“No.” The man's face reddened, and he lowered his gaze.

“Where is she?”

“She's visiting—her mother.” Ross reestablished eye contact. “There was an emergency and she had to go see her mother for a few days. I was just checking to make sure she made it all right. It's about ten hours by car so she must still be driving. She had to leave in the middle of the night.”

As the man rambled on, giving them more information than they needed, Madison could tell he was lying. He had crossed his arms and his gaze kept sliding away. She would definitely be checking into Ross Morgan, in depth.

“Why was Deputy Nelson trying to call me?” Ross finally asked, uncrossing his arms and letting them fall limply to his sides.

“Your speedboat was stolen last night. We found it this morning on fire with someone still sitting in the driver's seat, charred beyond recognition.”

Ross's jaw dropped. “My boat! There was a burned body in it?”

“Yes. What remains of it is beached at Eagle's Cove.”

“Why would anyone want my boat? There were a lot nicer ones at the marina. How in the world did it catch on fire? Who is the dead man?”

“Good questions. If one of the patrols hadn't seen the smoke, the boat would have been burned so badly, that we wouldn't have known it was yours.” Madison walked a few paces toward the living room, her gaze sweeping the room for any sign of something not quite right.

“We don't know who the man is. The boat was involved in the ransom drop for Ashley.” The tight edge to J.T.'s voice conveyed the fragile control he had on himself.

Madison peered over her shoulder at him, seeing his mouth pinched into a tight line. She wanted to lessen his pain.

The color drained from Ross's face. “J.T., I'm so sorry. I didn't even know there had been a ransom demand. What happened?”

“It was botched.”

Ross's shoulders sagged. He swiped his hand across his forehead. “I can't believe the kidnapper used my boat.” He paused, tilted his head. “So the dead body is the kidnapper?”