Caro pulled up beneath the covered entrance of the hotel. “I don’t want—”
“Just keep it in mind,” Sadie cut in. “You and I are okay regardless, okay? Just see what you can work out with Tess in the meantime.”
As Sadie headed for their room, she reminded herself that she’d done the right thing by making Caro take those articles to the police. She really had. She really, really, really had. But she couldn’t help but wonder about where things would be if she hadn’t made Caro take that file in. The police had already wrapped up their investigation—they were done. Nothing Sadie, Caro, and Tess would have done would have interfered with anything. But that was something she would never say out loud to Tess or Caro.
Her phone rang while she was searching for her hotel key from her laptop bag that she’d used today in place of a purse. She looked at the number on her phone, but it wasn’t one she recognized, which meant she knew nothing about who was on the other end of the line or how they might change her current course.
“Hello?” She held the phone with one hand and found her hotel key with the other.
“Sadie Hoffmiller?”
“Yes.” She slid the key into the lock and pushed open the door.
“This is Officer Nielson. We just spoke a little bit ago about the Dr. Hendricks case.”
“Yes?” Sadie said, taking her computer bag from her shoulder and putting it on the floor.
“I wondered if you might be able to come into the station again.”
“Um, well, sure, I’ll need to call Caro and see if—”
“Just you will be fine,” he cut in. “How soon can you be here?”
Thank you for coming in,” Officer Nielson said after Sadie sat down across from him. They were in an office rather than an interrogation room this time, and though it had been less than fifteen minutes since Sadie had talked to him on the phone, she’d managed to work up her levels of anxiety to a fever pitch while trying to figure out why he’d called her in.
“I’m not continuing to work on this case,” she blurted out, unable to keep the anxiety at bay any longer. “And it wasn’t my idea. Not that I’m trying to push blame on anyone else, but I only arrived in St. George yesterday afternoon, and Caro and Tess had developed this whole plan before then. I told them we needed to give the information to the police and we did. The discussion with Lori Hendricks just kind of—”
“You’re not in trouble, Mrs. Hoffmiller.”
Sadie’s mouth was still open, prepared to continue her defense. It took a moment to reset her approach. “What?”
“You’re not in trouble,” he said again, this time with a bit of a chuckle. “I didn’t ask you to come in so that I could reprimand you.”
“Oh,” Sadie said, sitting back in her seat and trying to remember if she’d come up with any other reasons for this meeting. If she had, they had been sacrificed for the more likely possibility that she was in trouble. Except Officer Nielson said she wasn’t. “Then why did you ask me to come back in?”
“Well,” he said, opening the file on his desk that she recognized as the one she and Caro had dropped off the day before. “I’m sure you know that when someone types your name into the database, it comes up with an interesting amount of information.”
Sadie just nodded, still on edge.
“It says much more than just the fact that you owned your own private investigation business for a time.” He met her gaze straight on. She nodded again.
“I attempted to contact Detective Cunningham, who’s listed as a contact, but apparently he’s preparing to get married and is having a bachelor’s type vacation in Mexico—but I guess you knew that.” He smiled again, and Sadie felt her cheeks turn pink.
“Congratulations,” Officer Nielson said. “According to the police chief in Garrison, Colorado, the date is just a few weeks away.”
“Five weeks,” Sadie clarified. She glanced quickly at her ring and felt just the whisper of a zing. That was all that could cut through her continued confusion about this conversation.
“I hope the two of you are very happy together—perhaps you’ll re-open your investigation business. With his experience and your knack for finding yourself in the middle of a situation, you could keep each other on your toes.”
He smiled, but Sadie wasn’t sure if he were teasing her or not, and she didn’t respond to the possible joke. “If I’m not in trouble, why am I here, Officer Nielson?”
“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said, his smile softening but not going away. “So—let’s get down to business.” He clasped his hands on his desk and leaned forward on his forearms. “Would you say that you’re invested in Dr. Hendricks’s disappearance?”
“I’m not sure what you mean. We gave you all the information we had out of respect for the police’s interest in this case and not wanting to interfere—that should prove that we aren’t still investigating.”
“You talked to Lori Hendricks after bringing in these documents. I admit I didn’t spend a great deal of time researching your history, just took what I read on your profile at face value, but it seems that you usually have a personal interest in the cases you’ve been involved in. Your neighbor, a co-worker, your son’s situation. So I’m wondering if you have a personal interest in this case as well.”
Sadie wished she knew why that mattered, but she couldn’t figure it out in the moments she was allowed between his question and her answer. She could only think that being honest would be the best choice right now. “If you mean, did I know Dr. Hendricks or any of those people close to him that would give me a personal interest in regard to how I’m affected by the situation, no, I am not somehow connected to this case. If, on the other hand, you mean, am I interested in the outcome of this case and concerned about those people influenced by what that outcome might be, then, yes, I would say I’m personally invested.” He nodded and she took that as permission to continue. “I don’t know what it says in my profile, but my reasons for being connected to those other situations that my file talks about were about more than just knowing someone involved or my life being directly influenced by the outcome.”
“What would you say your involvement was about, then, if not because you were personally affected by the outcome?”
“I think truth is important,” Sadie said simply. “And I found that I could discover important information and help find the answers that might help people.” Caro’s comment about Sadie having a gift came to mind, but it was a bit embarrassing to think about it that way right now. She wasn’t “all that,” and she knew it.
“You discovered information the police didn’t find, then? Is that what you mean?”
Sadie shifted awkwardly in her chair and took a breath. “Sometimes I have found things the police didn’t,” she said. “But I realize that I made problems for them sometimes, too, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“That’s not what I’m getting at,” he said, his hands still clasped and his eyes still focused on her, which made her feel as though he saw more into what she said than just what she was telling him. It was disconcerting.
“I understand that you still have a lingering threat over you—you were in hiding for a while.”
Sadie nodded. She didn’t want to talk about that, didn’t want to think about it. “It’s been a year and a half and nothing has happened. I’ve chosen to live my life. Hiding was ... not good for me.” The emotional toll of the fear had been worse than facing the threat head on, but his bringing it up made her feel tense. “Is that why you’ve called me in? Has something been found?” Pete checked on her situation weekly, but he was out of the country right now. Had he somehow put an additional alert on her profile that Officer Nielson had information about?
“No,” Officer Nielson said. He sat back in his chair. “But you said something in one of your cases that for some reason Detective Cunningham made certain to include in the notes on your profile. It says that you feel as though God directs you toward these cases and that at times you’ve felt as though He is leading you toward the resolution.”
Sadie felt her cheeks heat up again and looked at her hands in her lap. She didn’t remember when she’d said that, but she knew it was before Boston because after what happened in Boston—and the threat that had become paralyzing—her faith had wavered.
“Do you believe that?”
Sadie took a breath and looked up. “When I said it, I believed it. Since my situation in Boston, I’ve ... been working through some complex feelings.” She was about to ask him why this was important enough for him to have called her in when he spoke again.
“Do you believe in God, Mrs. Hoffmiller?”
“Yes—can you tell me why this is important?”
“Do you believe that God embraces truth—that He wants us to find it?”
“Yes, I do, but why are you—”
“Do you believe that God uses people to find that truth?”
“Officer Nielson, I don’t mean to offend you, but I’m not entirely comfortable with the direction of this conversation.” She’d never talked to a member of law enforcement like this, and it felt pointed and strange.
“I apologize,” he said, sitting forward. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was merely curious because it will likely influence your answer to my request.”
“Your request?” Sadie asked. “Forgive me for pointing out that you haven’t made a request. I still have no idea why I’m here, unless you simply wanted to satisfy your curiosity about my history.”
Officer Nielson smiled. “My request is an unusual one, but I hope you will consider it carefully because it is sincere.”
Sadie lifted her eyebrows expectantly.
“As I told you before, I was given Dr. Hendricks’s file in order to close it out. The investigation done in the weeks following his disappearance was extensive. I don’t want to give the impression that I’m in any way critical of what was done—interviews were conducted, financial records searched, leads followed up on, and so forth. Everything that should have been done was done. But when the work doesn’t lead us anywhere, we are left with nothing to explore. Does that make sense?”
Sadie nodded.
“Good. So, then, this morning when I came in, this file of information was waiting for me.” He tapped the file. “I read your friend Caro’s note, and I looked at the photos, which happened to relate directly to one of the questions left over from the investigation. It was in regard to the Chuckwalla Trailhead—have you been to that trailhead?”
“I haven’t,” Sadie said.
“It’s a popular trail. Runners and climbers, specifically, use it frequently. It’s located right off Highway 18, just past a major parkway in St. George, and is mostly a day-use trail. The detectives involved worked hard to find anyone who could verify that Dr. Hendricks’s vehicle had been there four full days, as it would be unusual for someone as experienced as he was to start a multi-day hike from a basic trailhead like Chuckwalla. We felt sure that if his vehicle had been there for that long, someone would have seen it, but I believe that actually worked against us. Because of the popularity of the trail, cars come and go all day long, and no one that we talked to noticed his car at all.”
“So they didn’t remember it being there, but they didn’t remember it not being there.”
“Exactly,” Officer Nielson said with a nod. “Your photos give us the first proof—we’ll need to verify it, of course—that his car might not have been there the whole time. It’s a fresh lead.”
“Does that mean the case has been reopened?”
“I wish it were that easy, but, unfortunately, it isn’t. Sergeant Woodruff, who headed up this case, has moved to a new department farther north. Whoever ends up with this case will be starting from scratch, and it will take some time to bring them up to date. While this lead with the photos is interesting, it’s not groundbreaking. It doesn’t give us cause to automatically suspect something criminal—it simply gives us reason to keep looking at the same dead ends we already have.”
Sadie nodded, feeling her excitement rise, even though she still had no idea what this had to do with her.
“You already talked to the ex-wife,” Officer Nielson said. “You said she then canceled an appointment with you to see the photos. You’re attending the memorial service and the luncheon, and, due to your history, the unique circumstances, and my own intuition, I would like to ask for your help until we have detectives prepared to step in and work this case in an official capacity.”
It took a couple of seconds for Sadie to absorb what he had asked. Holy cow! When she spoke, however, she made sure to keep her tone even. “You want me to work on the case?”
“I want you to gather information and relay it back to me. You know the procedures—it’s in your profile—you give very detailed notes, you know how police go about things, and according to your profile, you’re capable of defending yourself, though I don’t expect it will come to that. I am not asking you to put yourself in any compromising positions or act on any leads yourself, but I think your abilities of observation and information collection could be very helpful to us. I’ll be working on verifying that photo today, and I’ll be meeting with my superiors tomorrow morning about reactivating this investigation. But the memorial service is today. The luncheon is today. I don’t want to miss the opportunities those events provide to us, but I can’t be a part of them myself, and no one else is up to speed on this case.”
“So you want me to work on the case,” Sadie said again by way of confirmation. She felt a bubble of excitement begin to grow in her chest. The police were asking for her help? They wanted her involved? This was new ground for her, and it made her head spin.
“We do,” he said with a nod and smile that told her he knew she was excited about this. “We want Tess to keep working on the scrapbook, and we want you to try to figure out why Lori Hendricks canceled her meeting with you. We want you to be our eyes and ears and record keeper of what you see. It will create new information for the detectives to work on once the case is assigned—give them a running start, so to speak. Will you do it?”
“Of course,” Sadie said. She cleared her throat, not liking how enthusiastic she’d sounded. “And Caro and Tess, too?”
“Yes, though I would prefer to communicate with you due to the fact that I feel I can talk to you on a more professional level.”
Sadie nodded. “And I assume you don’t want anyone to know I’m working for you?”
“Well, you’re not working for me. I’m utilizing you like a reserved officer of sorts—volunteer, unofficial, unpaid.”
Untrained. But Sadie didn’t say that out loud. Something he’d said earlier came to mind, and she cocked her head to the side. “You said that your intuition was one of the reasons you’re doing this. What did you mean by that?”
He paused for a moment, regarding her in that see-too-much way of his before he spoke. “I understand that you’re still working through your thoughts in regard to God helping discover truth. For my part, I no longer have doubts about that—though I did at one time.” He tapped his palm on the armrest of his wheelchair, indicating that there was a connection between his confidence and his disability. Sadie hoped he would tell her more, but he didn’t. “There are times, within my personal and my professional life,” he said, “that God leads me somewhere unexpected. When I follow His lead, I always succeed in my goal. Every time.”