Page 51

LEAVENWORTH, KANSAS

Poppy pulls into the garage of the station house at just after six in the morning. Sheriff Walton is an early bird. She plans to have a frank discussion with her boss about what happened to Alison Lane before everyone else arrives.

It doesn’t make sense—why would someone take Alison, presumably to deliver her to the two men who found themselves on the wrong side of a desperate father? A father with old friends who could both help rescue her and cover up what happened. And only two men were found at the bottom of the lake. Where’s the third man Dash saw that night? Or is her brother lying?

No, she thinks Dash is telling the truth. He’s not creative enough to come up with that nutty story. So: Why the cover-up? If this was only a kidnapping gone awry, why would Alison and her father go into hiding? So many damn questions. And now she has the unenviable task of getting answers from her boss.

She takes the elevator from the garage to the lobby. She’ll get this over with, see what he has to say, then figure out what to do. If Dash isn’t lying, this isn’t just about Alison and her father—it’s about Poppy’s own dad. Did he and the sheriff take out the third man? At minimum, they helped cover up the murder of two men after the fact. And Poppy’s brother kept quiet about it all.

She wants to storm into the hospital—confront her dad. But it’s hard to confront someone who’s on a ventilator. Walking briskly down the hallway, she musters the courage to face Sheriff Walton. She needs to be brave, have confidence. She reaches the sheriff’s office, glances through the glass walls. The lights are out.

Margaret’s computer is on, but she isn’t at her desk.

“Good morning,” Margaret says, rounding the corner from the break room holding a cup of coffee.

Poppy doesn’t reply. She’s too preoccupied thinking about the speech she prepared in her head. “Where is he?” It comes out harsh.

Margaret gives a concerned look. “Everything okay? The sheriff said your father…”

“Yes. Sorry. I just have something I need to talk to him about. Something urgent.”

“He’s usually in by now, but I’m sure he’ll get here soon. How’s your father, dear?”

Poppy doesn’t answer. The sheriff left the hospital late last night. They walked to the parking lot together, after the a-hole doctor told them they should go. “I really need to talk to him.”

Margaret picks up the phone. Dials. Listens. “He’s not picking up his cell. Maybe he slept in. Or maybe he’s back at the hospital.”

Poppy considers this.

The phone on Margaret’s desk rings. She looks at the caller ID, hopeful that it’s the sheriff, then sighs.

“Could you take a call about the Alison Lane case?” she asks.

Poppy gives her a puzzled look.

“A detective from England has called three times wanting to talk to the sheriff. Apparently, they’ve arrested Ryan Richardson and they really want to speak with someone.”

Poppy feels a jolt of excitement. No wonder she couldn’t find that kid. He’s in England? And arrested?

“Please patch them through to my office.”