Thaw (Detective Ellie MacIntosh) (2 page)

Darkness.

Rose closed her eyes, but it was the same when she let her eyelids flutter back upward. Blackness.

Where was she?

Shivering, she turned her head. The floor beneath her was rough and cold. There was a musty smell she didn’t really recognize and her head ached. Confusion rushed in, but her mind was too jumbled to sort it out . . .

When she tried to roll over, it wasn’t possible. The horror wasn’t immediate, it was insidious. It crept in as she realized her arms were not paralyzed because of the cold or her cramped position. Her wrists were tied together and her arms tingled when she tried to wrest free.

Utter panic. She wanted to scream, but her throat was dry and it came out as an inarticulate croak. Her mind whirled backward, thinking frantically, wondering as tears stung her eyes…
what is this
?

Her stomach churned.

Where…what…how…and…who?

Her hands were tied. There was a who.

Rose took in a long, shuddering breath through her nose but it wasn’t easy. She was crying, but wouldn’t anyone, she thought as she tried to remember. So desperately to remember.

Hadn’t Ms. Reichert asked her to take another try at a better speed in the one-hundred-meter dash, even though it hadn’t really ever been her race? They’d stayed, the two of them, and everyone else had left and . . .

She didn’t remember.

Oh God, she didn’t remember anything beyond that.

Her mouth tasted like shit from the gag.

Gag. Hands tied. There was a someone . . .

And she couldn’t remember.

Ellie wasn’t used to such acceptance, not that her department was particularly opposed to women, but this was…nice. The male-dominated community of law enforcement got old now and then.

The lead detective’s name was Johanssen. She was about six foot two with clipped dark hair and a definite accent that said she was from Wisconsin or even maybe Canada. Surprisingly, she was willing to share the investigation.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said frankly, sitting back in a chair that seemed too short for her tall body. Her office was plain, no photos, just a utilitarian desk and a PC. The two chairs for visitors had seen better days. “We don’t do a lot of homicide.”

“To be honest, neither do we.” Ellie smiled in apology because she hadn’t asked to be let in on the case and wanted to make sure that was clear. “So if it is true some men are born great, and some men have greatness thrust upon them, I am definitely in the latter group. I just had the bad luck to get sucked into a sticky investigation. We caught him, and apparently it makes me look good, but I don’t really have much more experience with this sort of thing than you do. What do we have?”

“No real suspects to make me think she’s dead, but the minute I say that, my ass gets bitten.” Johanssen punched up a computer screen. “Would a list of the neighborhood sex offenders help?”

“It wouldn’t hurt.” Ellie felt like a fish out of water, floundering around on someone else’s shore. “I wouldn’t ask, but—”

“The judge wants you. I get it. The Northwoods Killer thing…I’m not sure I disagree. I’ve never handled this kind of case before. A disappearance, yes. It happens here like it does anywhere else. Runaways usually, and their parents can’t believe it.” Johanssen shook her head. “Idiots that just don’t talk to their children, but talk
at
them. This is different. I don’t like it. Rose Beech was stable as far as I can tell. A great student, good family, and the judge aside, I would be flipping out over this one with or without you, so don’t be shy. What can we do here? I really want to find this girl.”

The offer was welcome and without resentment. Ellie contemplated a minute. “The track coach, Reichert, seemed nervous, but then again, it sounds like maybe she should be. She left a student behind and it wasn’t precisely protocol.”

“The car won’t start.” Johanssen’s mouth tightened. “I was suspicious of that from the beginning. We do have a pretty sharp crime scene technician. He went over the car, looking for evidence, used luminal, the works.”

Luminal was a chemical that could indicate blood at a scene. It sounded like the case was being handled correctly. “Nothing?”

“Well, nothing until he tried to start the car with the keys given to us from her parents. The engine is dead because someone tampered with it. There were disconnected wires.”

To say she didn’t like the sound of that either was an understatement. “You’ve run backgrounds on the maintenance men?”

“We have. They are all long-term employees who are clean as far as we are concerned. Not to mention the principal was adamant that they were all together working in the cafeteria on a bad refrigeration unit and can vouch for each other.”

Fine and good, but there was still a missing girl.

“Can you tell me about her parents?” Ellie said. “I haven’t been there yet because going to the school seemed more important.”

Officer Johanssen nodded. “This has a time line. I understand. We need to move. They are divorced. Father is an accountant and the mother is a nurse. Rose lives with her father, actually, and as a custodial parent, he does not seem to be a suspect. Rock-solid alibi, and her mother was working at the hospital, so we need to look elsewhere. They are suitably upset, though we both know that can be faked, but I’ve talked with them. No leads there as far as I can tell.”

Ellie picked up her bottle of water and took a drink. “Did your tech find anything else?”

“No. Some hairs, but who knows who she might have given a ride, and we can match them, but only if there is a suspect. Give me a possible perp and we’ll go from there.”

That was no small feat without witnesses.

“If I can, you’ll be the first one I’ll call.” Ellie smiled briefly, not sure if she was relieved the locals were willing to share the case, or dismayed at just how much of it they were willing to hand over. Most of it was due to the judge no doubt, but it certainly seemed like Johanssen was good with it.

The woman nodded. “Let me know if we can help. You’re free and we are on a budget. If Rose Beech was the daughter of a welfare loser and his prostitute girlfriend we’d look for her just as diligently, make no mistake. But we are overworked and underpaid, and I bet you can relate to that, Detective MacIntosh, so rest assured you are welcome here. The state of Wisconsin does its best to protect its citizens, but we aren’t unlike departments all across the U.S. and I’m not too proud to take some assistance. A helping hand is fine with me. Whatever you need, you have it if we’ve got it.”

“I need to talk to who inspected her car and said it was tampered with.”

“Fine. I’ll get him for you.”

“What about Reichert? Is she at all a suspect? I’m walking in late, but . . .”

Johanssen flipped through a few pieces of paper on her desk and frowned. “I don’t see how. Neglect is possible and the school system might go that way if the parents push it, but honestly, she’s a longtime teacher who just happened to be in a hurry. She left, and it was unfortunate, but hindsight being twenty-twenty and all, she might lose her job, but how on earth can we charge her with a crime? She broke a rule, not a law.”

A reasonable attitude, but Ellie could feel the clock ticking in the back of her brain. “Still, she was the last one to see Rose.”

“I’ve known her forever. I went to school with Susan. She didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“I’m going to talk to her again and then the parents, even if it doesn’t help.”

“You’ll find the father frantic.”

That stopped Ellie halfway out of her chair. “You said they were
both
suitably upset.”

Johanssen said plainly, “The key word is suitably. Mrs. Beech’s reaction wasn’t quite as genuine. She didn’t act like I would have if I heard my daughter was missing. That’s all.”

Ellie’s attention sharpened. “You think she knows something?”

“I don’t know if she does. I hope you have better luck than I did if you talk to her. She said she was worried. She even looked worried, but she answered two cell phone calls that had nothing to do with Rose during our interview and I found that strange and a little callous, actually. Here I am, a public servant, trying to find her missing child and she changes a hair appointment in front of me, wasting my time. She didn’t want to talk about Rose. But people deal with things in different ways. I’ll be anxious to hear if you have better luck.”

Well, hell
.

“Thanks,” Ellie said dryly.

“No problem.”

Yeah,
Ellie thought as she left the building and walked to her car. It was nice to not be met with resentment, but then again, she really wasn’t sure having it all dumped on her was fun either.

Once she slid into the car, she tried to call a certain number for the fourth time that day.

Nothing.

Damn.

She had a small problem of her own.

Where was Bryce? Not available evidently. Ellie blew out a short breath and acknowledged that she’d left Lincoln County without letting him know, but also allowed herself the reassurance that she tried to call.

If he even cared.

Dr. Bryce Grantham was a computer programmer who worked from home, so he almost always answered his phone since he did business that way. He was also intelligent, articulate, and attractive, but their long-distance involvement wasn’t exactly working out. She hadn’t seen him in a month and now she might need to cancel again.

She still admittedly wondered about having a relationship with a former suspect in a serial murder case, but he’d been not only cleared, but an integral part of the conclusion. As a professional decision it might be questionable to date him, but as a woman, she just wanted him to answer his damn phone.

Was he screening her calls? The last time they’d talked he’d invited her down to Milwaukee but she’d been too busy.

Okay, deep breath. It matters, but not as much as this case right now
.

Rose Beech mattered. She took a chance and called Judge Nelson, who answered on the third ring. Without small talk, she said, “Your sister-in-law, what is up with her?”

“My brother’s ex-wife?”

“Rose’s mother…yes. I need an honest opinion, Your Honor. Every second that passes . . .”

“I couldn’t agree more. I assume you’re in Altamont.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to make a sarcastic comment, but Ellie refrained. Like she had a choice. The sheriff had made that clear enough. “You sent me here. I spoke with a county detective who seems to have a perception that the ex–Mrs. Beech will not be cooperative.”

“She certainly never cooperated with my brother, so I can’t say I can promise anything, but if you are hinting that she had anything to do with my niece’s disappearance, I doubt it. She isn’t that smart.”

The insight was welcome and Ellie stifled a wry laugh. “I think I understand. I’m heading over there now.”

The phone was quiet for a few seconds. “No progress?”

“I’ve only been here a short time and local law enforcement seems very competent.” What did the judge think, she’d arrive and immediately wave her magic wand?

“They don’t deal with this situation often.”

“Neither do I,” Ellie said quietly. “But we are working on it.”

The sigh was audible and frustrated. “I understand, but the lead in on this is short and she’s been gone now for almost twenty-four hours and I—”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand the urgency, believe me,” Ellie interrupted the halted speech.

“I really need you to do this, Detective MacIntosh.”

“If I may say so, I really
want
to do this, Judge, with or without you cheering me on. My job is to help people just like your niece. Believe or not, I take it very seriously.”

“Well, shit,” she muttered when she pushed the button and essentially hung up on a federal judge. She had two ideas and absolutely no time.

Which way should she go? It sounded like questioning the mother was not worth the effort, especially since Ellie assumed the judge knew what she was talking about. The father might be helpful, but…the coach. She knew a guilty sweat when she saw it.

What the hell was up with that? The entire interview had been off. Not much, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it because she could swear the woman was genuinely upset, but there was something there.

Maybe it was worthwhile to follow that lead. She started her car and put it in reverse, but not before Johanssen came out of the building, heading toward her at a run. Ellie rolled down her window and the other detective leaned in. “I just got a tip that someone found Rose’s cell phone out by the Couderay River. I can give you directions but you’ll still get lost. I’m coming with you. Let’s go.”

Parched. That was the worst of it. The thirst was unendurable and Rose whimpered slightly, trying to roll sideways, but it was dark and she was still tied, and she was petrified.

At first she’d been dazed and confused but that was past now.

Now…now, she was
afraid
.

It was as if the world had come into clear focus, every sense sharpened, the noises magnified, her skin electric.

The absolute quiet was the worst part, though she dreaded the moment when she heard someone moving around, so it was a paradox. She knew that, felt the vibrations through her very soul, and if her heart would stop pounding she might be able to at least try and figure out where she was.

Turning her wrist hurt, the wire biting in like teeth, but she tried.

She bled.

Nothing worked.

The cell phone was muddy from the melted puddles of snow, and there were officers taping the area off. Ridges of tire tracks had crushed the long withered grass and piles of last year’s fall leaves, and there were stands of slender birch and poplar in small groves. The opposite side of the river held rows of white pine. There wasn’t a structure in sight and the drive was rutted and looked abandoned. The air smelled like spring, but it was an elusive scent.

A young man in a denim jacket and square-toed boots stood by an older-model pickup truck near the entrance and had walked them to the exact spot. “I hope I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Technically yes, he did, because footprints or tire casts might have been helpful. It seemed like he’d driven through the same way whoever had dropped Rose’s phone had come. But on the other hand, how was he to know, and he had done the right thing and picked it up and pulled up contacts to let someone know he’d found it. Rose’s father was the one who answered that call and he’d called the sheriff’s department immediately. Ellie assumed that was who was standing talking to a deputy. He had the haggard look of a man with a missing daughter and resembled his sister, the judge, enough to make the connection.

The find was something. A small lead, but
something
.

Fingerprints, however, were going to be a miracle. The phone was bagged, but Ellie had taken one look at it, offered a prayer of gratitude to the powers that be that it even worked, and handed it over to a deputy to take to forensics. She turned to Nathan Gates, who according to his driver’s license was twenty-one years old, and asked, “What were you doing out here?”

He hesitated but then shrugged and admitted reluctantly, “I sometimes run traps along the river.”

“I’m a detective, not DNR, and with a missing girl out there I don’t really care whether or not your traps are all legal. I’m sure you understand that, so just talk to me and forget about the traps. Did you see anything…hear anything?”

“No.” He decisively shook his head. “I just got out of my truck and the phone was lying there.” He pointed to where a bush hung still-bare branches over the almost nonexistent path. “I thought it was weird because as you can see this isn’t exactly a main thoroughfare or anything, and so I picked it up. I called the number listed in contacts under Dad. I was just going to tell someone I found it. The guy who answered freaked and told me to stay right here and give him exact directions. I thought he was coming to get it but didn’t expect half the police force in Wisconsin.”

At least Rose’s father had a level head and had called them first.

Johanssen, looking taller than ever, had on a black jacket and had been talking on her phone since they’d arrived. She’d walked over just in time to catch that last bit. “And we appreciate it.” She turned to Ellie. “Our crime scene tech should be here soon, but until then, where do we go? I’ve got some officers who could start a search and we can call in more than I have already. State police should be here soon.”

Ellie considered the young man who at least seemed honest enough to try and return a lost cell phone. “You must know this area pretty well.”

He was sandy haired and nervous, with a thin face and light blue eyes, but he was able to look straight at her without flinching. “Yes ma’am. I grew up about two miles over and went to school in Altamont.”

“Where would you hide someone around here?”

“Hey, I wouldn’t—”

“It’s hypothetical, Mr. Gates, but I’m also serious. Can you give me the location of any abandoned houses or similar structures near this location that might be so private you could take someone there and no one would hear her scream?”

She’d intended to shock, and it worked.

“Jesus.” He ran his hand through his hair, still staring at her, and then said, “I don’t really know her. Know Rose that is, but I went to school with her older sister. I want to help. I’m…thinking. Really. I just came out to check my traps and didn’t expect all this.”

“None of us can explain why anything like this happens. That is how someone manages to take us by surprise.” Ellie said it more forcefully than she intended, but honestly, she was pressed for time. “Where?”

“There are summer cabins all along the river that no one opens up until at least May, sometimes June.” He shrugged helplessly. “I…I suppose there, maybe?”

Johanssen said, “I’ll get men on it.”

“Who owns this property?”

“Bill Garrett.”

She turned and saw the man she assumed was Rose’s father. Late forties, a touch of gray in his dark hair, lines around his mouth, at the moment anyway, and a long dress coat over what looked to be shirt, tie, and pleated slacks. “Mr. Beech?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Detective MacIntosh.” She briefly extended her hand but her attention was on what he’d just said. “Excuse me, but you personally know the man who owns this property?”

“I’m an accountant for this county. The tax assessments cross my desk. Besides, this is a fairly small community. I know Bill.” He shook his head and his voice was terse. “And before you ask, no, there can’t be a connection to my daughter’s disappearance. He’s eighty-two years old and needs a hip replacement. She could have outrun him when she was six years old. What happens now?”

“A search of the area.” And the river, she thought with a silent grimness she didn’t want to voice out loud. With every ticking moment it was more obvious that Rose didn’t go anywhere voluntarily and no one her age ever threw away her phone. This was only about ten miles out of town, so it could be her abductor pulled off the county highway and tossed it, assuming it would not be found for a long time.

Hopefully that is not your last mistake
.

“Sir, did she have any problems with anyone? Harassment at school? Maybe someone she’d seen following her? I understand you are the custodial parent. Did you notice anything?”

“Notice anything?” he said bitterly. “No. Everything was fine. How did this happen? Coach Reichert is responsible and Rose really likes her. Whoever it is must have known exactly the schedule. I wish I didn’t have to say this, but you need to look closely at someone who realized that the coach might leave early.”

Her attention sharpened because she’d felt it too. “Anyone obvious to you?”

“No, but she’s usually conscientious almost to a fault. Last month Rose told me how one of the sophomores talked on her phone in the parking lot for over an hour after practice and didn’t realize the coach was sitting in her car, waiting to leave. The girl apologized, but Reichert apparently said to not worry about it. I just don’t see how she would put up with that and leave
my
daughter.”

The agony echoing in his voice didn’t surprise her, but that aside, it was an interesting point.

Then he said with terse conviction, “I’m glad, Detective MacIntosh, you are here.”

This persistent belief in her ability to solve this case quickly made her break out in a light sweat. “I promise you I’ll do what I can.”

Susan was no stranger to the woods. Her father had worked a logging crew before he’d finally started his own business as a private contractor plowing snow for the county in the winter and mowing in the summer. He’d been weathered and friendly and drank too much beer, but, hey, everyone had their faults and all in all, he was a good guy.

She could use some of his practical, down-home advice right now, but he’d been gone for four damn years to cancer.

Shit.

Maybe his early death had screwed them all up.

She parked by the big oak that had always been at the curve of the drive, getting out and slamming the door loudly. No way anyone in the house hadn’t heard her car arrive.

No way. But not a soul came out on the front porch and the house sat quiet and silent.

That meant something. Something bad? God, it could be. Her knees were weak as she climbed the steps.

Actually, it was very damning. She’d been trying to call for hours.

The porch boards creaked and she noted the door wasn’t locked, but it usually wasn’t. However it was usual for it to be open a crack.

Her stomach collapsed into a tiny ball. “Anyone home?”

The policy was to just walk on in and she did, noting the living room of the old house was as neat as ever. But she noticed that the pillows on the couch were not in perfect order and a windbreaker was carelessly tossed over a chair in the dining room.

No, her mother would never leave anything there in her extremely tidy house.

“Mom?”

No answer. She didn’t like it. As a matter of fact, she pulled a gun from her purse. This was her nightmare come true…dammit, why did it have to be this way? She’d bought the weapon several years ago, got it properly licensed, and took some time to learn how to use it as required by law.

At the time she told herself she was a woman living alone and it would make her less nervous. Now she wondered if she hadn’t had some sort of intuition this day might come, and that was why she’d stopped off at home to pick it up.

“Mom?”

Nothing.

But the door was open. It was possible her mother was down in the laundry room in the basement. Susan walked down awkwardly, the .38 extended, the pulse point in her throat jumping. The safety wasn’t on…if she had learned nothing else about weapons it was that unless you intended to go through with it and shoot, never point it at another human being.

She might be serious, but her hands trembled, making the barrel wobble. “Anyone home?”

Not a sound.

The basement smelled like it always had, of cement with a hint of fabric softener; like old cardboard and the couch her parents had inherited from her father’s parents and could never bear to part with but didn’t have a place for upstairs. Susan walked the perimeter and took in a shuddering breath when she realized there was just no one there, so she went back upstairs to the kitchen.

This can’t be happening
.
Why me?

Life wasn’t black and white, it was all shades of dusk and dawn and twilight so a person could never quite see where she was going. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t a good teacher—she was. She knew she was. She’d even gotten into a master’s program and was going to push to maybe someday be a principal.

There were several splotches on the tiled floor near the back door, which was actually ajar like the front door. The puddled liquid was dark in color and she leaned in and swiped a finger. Looked like blood to her, dark red and thick, like an accusation. Her skin chilled.

Oh God
.
What has he done
?

With one hand she fished out her cell phone and punched a button. There was a ring she could hear, not from her phone, but from somewhere in the house. On unsteady legs she followed it back out into the living room, finally realizing it came from the couch. Sure enough, the phone had slipped down through the cushions.

Her mother really didn’t ever leave without her cell phone, but her purse didn’t appear to be on the counter in the usual spot. Maybe she just hadn’t been able to find it before she went out on an errand.

No, something was wrong. All wrong.

She tried another number for the second time that day. No answer.

Shit. Vic, answer and tell me you know nothing about this.

Though it could be a big mistake, her hand was shaking so badly once she fished out the card she’d kept that she misdialed twice. When the person on the other end answered, she said, “This is Susan Reichert. I think I may have information on the abduction of Rose Beech.”

“Like?” Detective MacIntosh asked the question neutrally. She had been the same when she questioned Susan the first time. Smooth, professional, distant.

Silence. She really couldn’t say it. What if she was wrong?

“Coach Reichert?”

First she’d been cold and now she had started to sweat. Yes, spring was beginning to make an impact, but it was hardly warm outside by most standards and the sun was lowering…in the midforties at the most, and yet she was strangely frozen and too hot at the same time. “I’m trying to figure out how to put this.”

“Take your time.”

“I could think about it for about a hundred years and it wouldn’t help.”

“I’m about three minutes from the school. I have a few more questions.”

She glanced around the homey kitchen with the whitewashed cabinets and the linoleum floor. Susan wasn’t surprised the detective was returning to talk to her again. She had some questions too. It was an effort to keep her voice even. “I’m not there. We canceled track practice because of the situation.”

“Why the call?”

The phone was slick with sweat in her hand but her teeth were chattering. “I…didn’t tell you the entire truth.”

“Notice how I am not fainting with surprise. Where are you? Can we talk about this?”

It took a moment but she said with difficulty. “My mother’s house. I can’t find her.”

“Does that mean something to you? Couldn’t she be out for a walk or getting groceries or something? Come on, talk to me.”

“I think there is blood on the floor.”

“Give me the address and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Of course she would. And nothing would ever be the same, but Susan already knew that before she ever picked up the phone. This was all
his
fault. She’d thought they were okay, but . . .