Page 96 of Nash Falls

“I’ve got some calls in to folks I trust and who are in the know, Walter. Anythin’ pops, I will get right back to you.”

“Thanks, Shock. I… I went to the office the other day and subtly suggested to Rhett that I would do anything to get Maggie back safe.”

“You think he bit?”

“I’m not sure, but he nearly ran out of my office. I haven’t heard anything, though.”

“But looks like he wasn’t aware that folks workin’ with him had taken Maggie?”

“I don’t think he knew, no. Shock, if Steers took Maggie, what will she do? Will… will she let Maggie go if I—”

Nash broke off because he had no idea what to say next.

“I don’t know, Walter. But I’m not goin’ to sugarcoat this. Steers is very dangerous.”

“I’ll leave my job. I’ll never call the FBI back, if… if they agree to let her go.”

“Right,” said Shock, but with not much behind it.

Nash clicked off, his spirits even lower now, if that was possible.

Judith was sleeping in their bed. He made sure her breathing wasnormal and then he stepped into his closet to change. Every normal routine he performed now seemed ridiculous in the face of losing Maggie.

I should be out there searching for her. But where do I even begin to look?

As he was taking off his clothes he noticed something.

A pair of gray khaki pants was missing, as was one of his beige shirts. When he slipped off his shoes and put them away in the shoe rack he noted that a pair of his sneakers was also gone.

What in the hell?

He later drove up to the guardhouse and asked Rolf if he knew exactly where Adams’s car had gone off the road. Rolf gave him the location and Nash headed to the spot.

It was a winding double lane stretch of asphalt with mature trees boasting large canopies lining both sides. He parked and got out and noted the marks on the road and then the gouged dirt where Adams’s car had left the pavement. There was a huge, dislodged chunk of earth where presumably the car had rolled. The damage to the ground continued on until it ended at a massive oak that showed signs of a violent collision.

The car and body had obviously been removed, but there was police tape strung up, though Nash could see no marked car or sentry around. Although he knew virtually nothing about these types of situations, it didn’t take a forensics genius to observe that there were the marks of another vehicle’s tread paralleling Adams’s. He stooped to see if he could find any metal fragments that would show the two vehicles had actually collided. But there was nothing; the asphalt looked as though it had been swept. The police had probably collected whatever evidence there was from the scene.

“Looking for something?”

Nash turned and saw John Ramos sitting in a car across the road. How could he have not heard the man drive up? However, when he glanced at the car, he noted it was an EV.

He walked over to the detective. “There are two sets of tire tracks there. Did someone run him off the road?”

Ramos got out of the car and stood eye to eye with him. “Mr. Nash, you really need to leave this to the professionals. You’ve already potentially contaminated what might indeed be a crime scene.”

“That was not my intent,” retorted Nash. “I’m just trying—”

Ramos did not let him finish. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not helpful. So I would appreciate if you would get back in your vehicle and leave.”

Nash held up his hands in mock surrender. He walked back to the Range Rover, climbed in, and turned the SUV around. He was about to pull off when Ramos ran into the road with his hands up for Nash to stop.

“What is it?” called out a perturbed Nash. “I’m trying to leave like youorderedme to.”

“When did that happen, sir?” asked Ramos, pointing.

“When did what happen?”

“That!” Ramos was indicating something on the passenger’s side front fender.