Page 9

9

W aiting with Bryce was agonizing, especially when Shane disappeared inside. She found herself staring at the cellar doors, half expecting someone to come bolting out from there.

But the exterior of her grandfather’s cabin remained quiet and still.

Finally, Shane emerged from the house. He lifted a hand, indicating she should stay back, before heading toward the cellar. He lifted the door and descended the stairs, holding his weapon ready.

After what seemed like an eternity, he climbed back out. “Come, Bryce!”

The dog had seemed content sitting beside her, but now he raced across the open field to reach Shane’s side. She followed more slowly.

“Good boy.” Shane knelt and stroked the dog’s fur. “You’re a good boy.”

“Why did he growl?” She frowned, looking around curiously. “Doesn’t appear that anyone has been here.”

“The bad guy was here.” Shane rose to his feet and led the way back inside the cabin. “Notice anything missing?”

Her gaze landed on the kitchen table. “The box of photos and newspaper clippings.” She stared in shock. “That makes no sense. Why on earth would the bad guy have come back here to take them?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.” Shane slid his weapon into his belt holster. “Did you notice anything specific about them?”

Her chest squeezed painfully. She wished now that she’d taken the time to go through the contents before leaving. But really, how was she to know the bad guys would come back to steal it? “Not really.”

“Think, Libby.” Shane took a step toward her, his blue gaze boring into hers. “Something must have caught your eye.”

“Everything in the box caught my eye!” She dragged her fingers through her hair, doing her best to maintain some semblance of control. “I remember thinking the photograph sitting on the top of the pile was of my grandfather with two other men.” She envisioned the picture in her mind but couldn’t recall seeing a date along the edges of the photo. “Maybe close to fifty years ago? When Grandpa was nineteen or twenty years old?”

“That’s a good start.” Shane took her hand and drew her toward a kitchen chair. “Take your time. Can you remember anything else?”

Why hadn’t she gone through the entire box? Why? She drew in a deep, calming breath, closed her eyes, and tried to envision the newspaper article. There wasn’t a full headline because the paper had been folded in half. The ink had faded over time. Something about large. No, wait, there were two words. At Large.

She opened her eyes. “The ending of the headline was something about ‘At Large.’ No clue what the rest of it was.”

“Did a date catch your eye?” Shane pressed.

“No. Although with the photograph on top being fifty or so years ago, it might be from a similar time frame.” She shook her head, feeling helpless. “I can’t believe the bad guy came back just to steal the box.”

“Did you lock the patio doors behind us?”

She frowned, sighed, and shook her head. “No. I should have, but I was hoping Grandpa would get free of his captors and make his way back here. I wanted him to be able to get back inside.”

“That’s understandable,” Shane said, although she could tell he wasn’t thrilled at the news.

“Grandpa rarely locks his doors, and honestly, I don’t even know where he keeps his keys. It’s never been an issue as nobody bothers him way out here.” She winced, then added, “Well, until now.”

“That’s okay. I guess it’s a good thing they didn’t have to break in.” Shane reached over to take both of her hands in his. “I’m not blaming you. I’m just trying to figure out what happened.”

Ridiculous tears pricked her eyes. Grumpy Shane was trying to cheer her up. She tightened her grip on his hands, wishing she never had to let him go. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He looked adorably confused. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, Shane.” She offered a watery smile. “You’re sweet.”

“O—kay.” He still looked uncertain.

She leaned in to kiss his cheek. He turned his head, and for a moment, their mouths were only an inch apart. When Libby understood he wasn’t going to close the gap, she did.

Their kiss was brief but intense. As she sat back, she strove to breathe normally. “I, uh, maybe you’re right about searching the place. I mean, the fact that this guy was in the cellar, then came back to steal the box makes me think there might be something important hidden on the property.”

“Yeah.” His low, husky voice made her shiver. The burning intensity of his gaze made her long to throw herself into his arms. But she managed to stay in her seat. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Tension simmered between them. Libby had to force herself to pull her hands from his. She rose, leaning on the kitchen table as her weak knees threatened to buckle.

She gave herself a mental shake. It wasn’t as if she’d never kissed a man before. So why this weird awareness of Shane?

Turning away, she nearly tripped over Bryce who was stretched out on the floor. The poor dog scrambled to his feet, looking up at her in confusion.

“Sorry.” She lightly patted the dog’s head not even feeling foolish for talking to him as if he could understand her. “I didn’t see you there.”

“He’s fine.” The corner of Shane’s mouth quirked in a half smile. “I have to say, I’m glad you’re not afraid of him anymore.”

“He’s a good boy. I’ve learned I can trust him not to bite me.” She still found the large dog intimidating.

“Where should we start?” Shane asked.

She glanced wryly around the small cabin. “I’m sure this won’t take very long. I’ll search Grandpa’s room, maybe there’s another box of old photos in there. Maybe you should double-check the cellar.”

“That works.” Shane stood. “Come, Bryce.”

She turned and headed back to her grandfather’s bedroom. Like earlier, when she’d been looking for a handgun, she felt bad about violating his privacy. It nagged at her that Grandpa had never shown her the old photos or newspaper clippings. Even when she’d mentioned wanting to do a DNA sample to see if they could find his biological family.

She paused in the middle of the room, remembering how unenthusiastic her grandpa had been about the DNA testing. At the time, she’d chalked his reluctance up to being uninterested in change. Grandpa didn’t travel, didn’t really go much beyond his property here and the occasional visits to Cody, mostly for doctor’s appointments. He never wanted to travel outside the state, claiming everything he loved was here, so there was no reason to leave.

Now she wondered if there was a deeper reason Grandpa didn’t want to poke into the past. Especially after the way he’d stared in shock at seeing the DNA report where she’d identified his sister.

The picture she’d glimpsed had featured her grandfather with two other men. Not a woman. But it occurred to her now that maybe there was a picture of his sister in the box. Maybe even a photograph of the two of them together.

As kids? Grandpa had said he’d been adopted as a baby. The DNA testing didn’t reveal if his sister was older or younger. They hadn’t gotten that far in the process.

It hurt to know that Grandpa had kept things from her. The contents of the box, certainly, and maybe even more.

Did he know the guys who’d taken him?

She sighed and headed toward the closest bedside table. This one had a worn paperback novel and a few scraps of paper that were meaningless to her. Nothing else. She headed over to the other drawer, which was empty. She frowned, vaguely wondering where the Bible was that she’d given him.

Maybe in the living room? She’d check later.

Turning, she started in on the closet next. She eyed her grandfather’s shirts, verifying that the red plaid shirt was missing. The bit of thread stuck to the fallen log where Bryce had alerted the very first time must have been from his clothing. She blinked back the threat of tears, refusing to believe the worst.

They were going to find him very soon.

She pushed the clothes aside and found a second box tucked away in the corner. This one was on the floor, not up on the shelf overhead where a couple of cowboy hats sat.

Her pulse surged as she reached for the box. It was light, which made her frown.

She carried it to the bed and opened the flaps. The box was light because there were about two dozen photographs inside. When she picked up the top one, she smiled when she saw herself astride a bike, her red hair pulled back into two pigtails on either side of her face.

Shuffling through the rest of the photos, she realized they were all of her and her mother. None of Grandpa, which was strange.

And why had he kept these pictures of her separate from the other box? It wasn’t as if either box was too full to accommodate additional items.

Leaving that box on the bed, she continued her search. But she didn’t find anything else. Not in the closet, under the bed, or anywhere else in the house.

Whatever the bad guys wanted wasn’t hidden inside the cabin.

And as she stared out at the open land, she found herself wondering if her grandfather had buried it somewhere on the ten acres of land surrounding them.

* * *

The cellar was a bust. Not that he’d really expected to find a hidden doorway or anything obvious. Still, he had to assume the bad guy had come down here for a reason.

He slapped his hands on his jeans to get rid of the dirt and dust. He had told Bryce to guard the top of the cellar doorway. As he turned to climb out of the cellar, Bryce jumped to his feet, looking expectant.

His dog was happier when he was working. Shane closed the cellar door with a loud thud, then took a moment to give Bryce some attention.

“Are you a good boy? Huh?” He ran his fingers over the shepherd’s soft pelt. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back at it soon.”

Bryce wagged his tail, glancing over when Libby stepped out of the cabin. From the dejected expression in her eyes, he figured her search had been unsuccessful too.

“I don’t suppose Bryce can search for buried treasure.”

He arched a brow. “No, sorry. The only buried items our dogs tend to find are bullets, shell casings, or in the case of Alexis’s dog, Denali, the remains of dead people.” He hesitated. “You don’t want me to have Alexis and Denali search the property, do you?”

“No.” She pursed her lips as she scanned the area. “I don’t think there’s a dead body out here. That wouldn’t be a reason to kidnap my grandfather. But I’m starting to think my grandfather buried something of value on his land.” She sighed. “It’s strange, though, since I know he doesn’t spend much money. So why on earth would someone want to find whatever it is that he’s hidden?”

“That’s a good question.” He didn’t know Marvin Tolliver very well. But based on the stark yet neat cabin, the older man certainly wasn’t living beyond his means.

“I don’t know where to go from here.” Libby frowned. “I want to keep searching for Grandpa, but I don’t know where to start.”

“I know.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “We could try doing an online search for newspaper headlines that end with the words At Large.”

“From fifty years ago?” She made a face. “I don’t know about that.”

He wasn’t well versed on searching for newspaper articles from fifty years ago either. “I should call my brother-in-law Doug Bridges. He might know how to access information from fifty years ago.”

“That’s fine, but what can we do in the meantime?” Libby was clearly frustrated. “Go back into the woods to track the bad guy’s scent?”

He was hesitant to keep pushing Bryce on what would likely be a fruitless mission. But she was right in that sitting around wasn’t going to help.

Before he could say anything, Bryce’s ears pricked forward, and the dog began to bark. Libby startled badly, but he caught the low rumble of a car engine.

“Stay here. Come, Bryce.” He gave his K9 the hand signal to heel and moved quickly around the house. A white and black sheriff’s deputy vehicle was rumbling up the long driveway.

He relaxed and told Bryce to be quiet. Then he called, “Libby? Looks like Deputy Paul Holland is here.”

“Why didn’t he call?” She ran around the corner of the house to join him. Then she grabbed his arm in a tight grip. “Bad news? They always give bad news in person.”

“Don’t, Libby.” He covered her hand with his. “Maybe he’s just checking in.”

She watched the approaching squad with apprehension. The vehicle stopped a few feet behind his K9 SUV.

Then she visibly relaxed when Paul slid out from behind the wheel, raising a hand in greeting. “Libby, Shane. I heard from dispatch that you had an intruder here last night?”

“We did, yes.” He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile to Libby. “Come inside and we’ll fill you in.”

“Okay.” Paul gave Bryce a wide berth.

“You don’t have an update?” Libby asked as they headed inside. “I take it there’s been no sign of my grandfather?”

“I’m afraid not.” Now Paul looked somber. “I traced the license plate to a vehicle owned by a man named Ward Engler. He’s a local resident living in a house nearby. By the time one of our deputies arrived at the property, there were no four-wheelers on the trailer. Since we had no reason to suspect him of wrongdoing, we let it go.”

Shane suppressed a sigh. “I guess I can understand that. Did you verify if he had a grandson?”

“No, that’s not exactly an easy task. The kid could have a different last name.” Paul shrugged. “We focused on keeping an eye out for trucks pulling trailers. Unfortunately, we didn’t see any others.” When Shane frowned, Paul added somewhat defensively, “I know what you’re thinking, but we patrol a large county.”

Shane glanced at Bryce who now had the scent of at least one of the bad guys imprinted on his brain. If they ran across the truck now, he wondered if his K9 would alert. Especially if Ward Engler was friends with the younger bad guy.

Still, there wasn’t anything more they could do on that front. Driving aimlessly around again searching for a truck and trailer was not a good use of their time.

“What’s this about someone showing up here?” Paul asked, changing the subject.

Shane nodded. “I was asleep on the sofa when Bryce growled a warning. I noticed movement outside the patio doors.” He gestured to them. “I rushed over and gave Bryce the command to get him. The guy had a head start.” He bent over his backpack to pull the plastic bag out containing the strip of denim. “Bryce got a piece of him, though. He brought this back to me.”

“How did the guy get away?” Paul frowned as he examined the fragment of cloth. “Wouldn’t be easy to shake a hundred-pound dog loose.”

“I heard an engine. I’m sure he was on the four-wheeler and gunned it.” Shane could imagine Bryce planting his front paws to hold the guy back only to fall back when the strip ripped free. “Look at it closely. I think there’s blood on there.”

“Blood?” Paul smoothed the plastic to see better. “There is a dark stain there, but it could be dirt or grime too.”

“I had Bryce follow the bad guy’s scent,” Shane explained. “He led us to a shallow cave near an outcropping of rock. That’s where we found this.” He pulled the plastic piece of a zip tie that had been in the cave. “To be fair, Bryce could have been alerting on either Marvin’s scent or the bad guy’s. Not sure. But as Bryce continued tracking this guy, he alerted in a clearing where we found blood stains.”

“Blood stains?” Paul glanced at his dog. “He can smell blood?”

“He can smell anything that leaves a specific scent behind. Sweat typically works better.” Shane pulled out his phone and brought up the pictures. “I didn’t bring the evidence back with me, but you can see that those stains appear to be blood.”

“This is why you’re thinking the guy may be heading to a hospital?” Paul looked skeptical as he handed the phone back to him. “It’s not like he lost a pint of blood or anything.”

“No, but the wound could get infected,” Libby said.

“Dog bites are notorious for that,” Shane said in agreement. “I’d actually be more surprised if his wound didn’t get infected.”

Paul sighed. “I don’t know. It’s not much to go on.”

“Why not?” Libby looked upset. “What can it hurt to question someone who comes in for treatment of what appears to be a dog bite? I can’t imagine patients walk into the hospital with that type of injury every day.”

“Not a dog bite, but other wild animals maybe.” Paul spread his hands. “If this guy is operating on the wrong side of the law, he’s more likely to claim he was bitten by a fox or a coyote than admit a well-trained K9 tried to take him down.”

Shane hated to admit that Paul had a point. “I still think any male presenting with an animal bite to his lower leg should be considered a suspect.”

“It’s not exactly probable cause,” Paul drawled. “We can ask questions, but that’s about it.”

“That should be enough. Questions about where the injury happened and having a name would be helpful too.” Libby appeared annoyed with Paul’s logical approach to this issue. “If the guy has a criminal record, that may give you probable cause for an arrest.”

Paul didn’t say anything for a long moment. “We have put the alert out to all hospitals and clinics in the area. So far, nobody has reported anything matching our request for information.”

“There’s still time,” Libby insisted. “It takes a while for an infection to set in.”

“You’re a medical expert now?” Paul sounded testy.

“My work at the hospital is in billing, so no.” She bit her lower lip in a way that reminded Shane of their brief but sizzling kiss. “But I don’t think it happens in an instant.”

“She’s right. It takes a few hours for an infection to set in.” Shane gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ve learned enough first aid through the many search and rescue missions we’ve carried out. The ones who suffer the most are those who have been lying in the woods with an exposed injury for more than twenty-four hours.”

Libby flashed a grateful smile. “I appreciate your insight, Shane. It makes sense to me that infections take time.”

Paul picked up the plastic zip tie. “You think these guys tied your grandfather up with these?”

“Yes, I do.” Libby leaned forward. “Please, Deputy, you really need to help find him. He’s going to be seventy in a few months, and I’m so worried about his health. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.”

“I promise we’re looking for him,” Paul said. Although Shane did not sense a strong level of confidence from the deputy. “I’ll let the others know about the blood and reinforce the plan of checking hospitals and clinics.”

Bryce nudged his leg. “Maybe include veterinary clinics,” he advised. “This guy could try a roundabout way to get antibiotics.”

“I can do that.” Paul stood and moved across the room to speak softly into his radio. Shane couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, but he hoped the right message was getting across to the rest of the local police.

Maybe he should call his brother-in-law Doug. Maya’s husband was a federal agent now for the DEA, so a missing person was well outside Doug’s jurisdiction. Yet at the same time, Shane was losing hope that the locals could pull this off.

Not that he’d confide his concerns to Libby.

“Okay, we’ve included the earlier alert to include veterinary offices,” Paul said, coming back to the kitchen table. “Shane, send me those cell phone pictures.”

“Of course.” He used his phone to send the photos. It took a few minutes because Marvin’s cabin wasn’t wired for the internet.

It wasn’t unusual for people of Marvin’s generation to live off-grid. Yet it struck him now just how isolated Libby’s grandfather was. And that, according to Libby, Marvin preferred it that way.

Because he had something to hide? The words At Large flashed in his mind.

Escaped Prisoners At Large?

Burglars At Large?

Or worse, Murderer At Large?

He didn’t want to believe any of those things and knew Libby would be upset if he even mentioned the possibility. But the idea wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Anything else?” Paul glanced between the two of them.

“Not that I can think of.” Shane noticed the hopeful expression in Libby’s brown eyes dimmed. “We’re going to keep searching the woods, though. See if we can come up with anything new.”

“Sounds good.” Paul edged toward the door. “Please keep us in the loop.”

“Always.” Shane glanced at Libby, who was staring down at the floor.

He walked Paul to the door. “Call us as soon as you find anything,” he said in a low voice, “even if it’s bad news.”

“I will.” Paul gave him a nod, then strode to his squad.

Shane turned to see Libby’s face buried in her hands. Bryce crossed over to nudge Libby’s legs. She let out a hiccuping sob.

“Libby, please, don’t.” He quickly went over to put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “We’re going to find him.”

“Are we?” Her muffled voice tore through him.

“Yes, we are.” He crouched beside her, searching for something to say. “We’ll head out again soon, okay?”

“Thank you.” She sniffled loudly and lifted her head. “I need a tissue.”

He found a box in the living room and quickly brought it over. She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. “Will you pray with me?”

“Uh, sure.” He couldn’t say no. She stood and wrapped her arms around his waist. Surprised by the hug, it took half a second for him to wrap his arms around her too.

“Lord Jesus, please keep my grandfather safe in Your care,” she whispered. “And we also ask that You continue to guide us as we seek the truth. Amen.”

“Amen.” Shane couldn’t remember the last time he’d prayed with someone that wasn’t his family.

Yet doing so with Libby felt right. In a way, that was both comforting and scary at the same time.