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Chapter Thirty-Five

After breakfast on Tuesday morning, Alan and I took our second cups of coffee to our office in the sunroom with the intention of working on our case. Unfortunately, we first had to sift through numerous emails the SAJ Detective Agency received from people who wrote that they had seen Liz Sterling during the past week.

“Why did Ryan have to use our email address?” I groaned.

“At the time, we thought it would be a good idea. However, I didn’t expect so many fake sightings or bogus claims.” Alan shook his head as he read, “I saw that lady sitting at a dive bar in San Antonio, Texas. Trust me, she’s not interested in returning to Aspen Notch.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s a good one.”

After an hour, we determined that most of the responses weren’t credible. The few that had merit mentioned having seen Liz during the previous week at River Mill Golf Club.

“Could Mark get a warrant to search the place thoroughly?” I asked .

Alan shook his head. “There’s no probable cause. I also feel certain that Jim Withers would gladly lead a search party on his property, and we wouldn’t need a judge’s order. He’s seriously concerned that Liz hasn’t returned home yet.”

“Do you want to ask him if we could do that today?”

“Sure,” he agreed.

“I think we should bring Sophie,” I said. “She knows Liz’s scent.”

“As I’ve said before, Sue, she’s not trained as a sniffer dog.”

“I know, but humor me.”

He rolled his eyes as he pressed the phone number for Jim, then brought me into the conversation using the speaker mode.

“We’ve been on high alert around here,” Jim noted. “I have all my employees searching the areas they oversee, and we haven’t found a trace of Liz.”

“What about the grounds?” Alan asked.

“There, too, although we probably could do a better job by dredging the ponds or searching the wooded areas.”

“Can you do those things this afternoon?”

“I’d probably need equipment for the ponds, so I’ll have to think about that,” Jim replied. “Otherwise, I can organize a search team for the woods this afternoon, if you could help.”

“I’m planning on it,” Alan said.

I interjected, “Me, too. Do you mind if we bring our dog?”

“Not as long as you pick up its waste, if you get my drift.”

“Of course,” I agreed, giving Alan my silent message of triumph. “I have a feeling Liz’s sister will want to participate, too.”

“As far as I’m concerned,” Jim replied, “the more people searching, the better our chances of finding Liz.”

I liked his openness and his sense of immediacy. We agreed to meet him at the bar and grill around twelve-thirty, and he promised to have a team organized by then.

^^^

I stayed outside near the golf carts with Sophie while Alan and Clare went in to meet up with Jim and whomever he gathered for the search team. While we waited, I worked on training Sophie with Liz’s scarf, not that I knew the particulars. I’d seen enough TV shows where an officer or military guy holds a piece of clothing near the dog’s nose and says, “Find So-and-so.”

The dog runs off and, sure enough, locates the person.

Sophie, on the other hand, considered the exercise more like a game of keep-away. I had a feeling she’d prove Alan right, and he’d probably enjoy the gloating.

Ten minutes later, about twenty men and women joined me, most of them wearing golf outfits, which meant that Jim must have cajoled them into helping when they’d gone inside for lunch. Stan Parker confirmed that fact when he greeted me while petting Sophie.

“We’re not going to find Liz in the woods unless someone dragged her lifeless body there,” he said.

“You seem pretty certain of that,” I remarked casually.

“I occasionally played nine holes with her, so I know she’s afraid of snakes. She’d forfeit a game before she’d retrieve her ball if it landed in the woods.”

Jim overheard Stan’s comment. “As a kid, I played in those woods but never came across any snakes.”

Stan laughed. “You must not have gone very far because I’ve seen them.” Noticing my expression, he added, “Just the garden variety, so don’t worry.”

After the banter, Jim introduced Alan as the former police chief of Aspen Notch, then asked him to organize the search team. My husband explained the process clearly, noting he wouldn’t permit anyone to leave the group and fan out on his or her own. “We stay together at all times,” he instructed. “Yell if you see anything out of the ordinary, and we’ll pause to check it out. Any questions?”

One guy raised his hand. “Is that dog trained as a sniffer?”

Alan caught my eye. “No, though my wife has been working with Sophie, and we think she may be able to pick up Liz’s scent.”

I smiled, recognizing another of my husband’s redeeming qualities: he always supported me in public.

Clare offered to take charge of Sophie when we crammed into four golf carts for a ride to the woods. I chatted with the ladies, each of whom spoke about Liz in glowing terms, and they all agreed with Stan. The gal they knew wouldn’t have gone into the woods.

We passed two groundsmen knee-deep in water, retrieving golf balls from one of the ponds, so Jim must have decided to use human power to search for a body while doing their normal chore. The scene gave me the creeps, and I looked at Clare to see if she felt the same way. She kept her eyes on the two ladies who had her ear while her hand rubbed Sophie’s back .

As a physician assistant in a rural village of Africa, Clare must have witnessed death, but this time, I thought, would she be prepared to identify her own sister? I tried to put myself in her shoes, and didn’t think I could handle it.

The guys driving the golf carts lined them up at the edge of the woods where we scooted out and followed Jim and Alan along the trail. At least five people had walkie-talkies, which I figured would help us stay together.

Two hours of hiking the numerous paths resulted in zero sightings of Liz or signs that she’d been there. Sophie pranced at Clare’s side, enjoying the scent of squirrels or deer. She definitely associated nothing with the aromas from her favorite scarf.

As we squeezed into the golf carts again, I saw expressions mingled with relief. Stan proclaimed, “I told you Liz wouldn’t have gone in the woods,” which elicited some chuckles. Clare wrapped her arms around Sophie.

Jim used his transmitter to communicate with his men at the pond as we headed back to the main building, then announced that they hadn’t found any trace of Liz. “I think we’re all tired, yet relieved,” he said. “I can offer free soft drinks for everyone at the bar and grill.”

“No beer?” Stan groused.

Jim chuckled. “I’ve got a business to run, Stan, so give me a break.”

“You’re rolling in the dough,” Stan countered.

“Not since we lost Ed Sterling,” he said with a shake of his head.

Alan caught my eye with that comment, but neither of us gave a response. He did say, “We appreciate your thorough search for Liz Sterling today. I know that cost you, so thank you. ”

“We had a bunch of volunteers, and we’d do anything to help our friend and benefactor.”

The golf-cart drivers pulled close to the outside entrance of the bar and grill, and most of us went inside for a cold beverage. Clare wanted to stay with Sophie, so I promised to bring both of them something to drink.

I returned to find Clare sitting on a bench, staring at the sky. I handed her a bottle of water and poured another into a bowl Jim lent us for Sophie.

I opened mine and took a sip. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, but didn’t look at me. “Sometimes finding nothing is better than finding something,” she murmured.

“That’s true,” I agreed. My heart broke for her.