Page 3 of Vanish From Sight (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #2)

C rime sold almost as much as sex.

Lena Grayson sat at her cluttered desk, pecking the keyboard as she wrote the story that wouldn’t hit the print newspaper until the following day.

She was surrounded by stacks of papers and files, and in front of her was an oversized coffee cup with the remnants of a second pour.

Although she usually took the weekends off, the news never stopped at the Adirondack Daily Enterprise and that morning was no different.

Timing was everything.

Whoever got out the news first received the lion’s share of hits and ad revenues, but that relied upon tips. Most of their sources didn’t come from law enforcement; the cops liked to stay ahead of the media and only utilize them when they thought it could benefit a case.

Until Lena had arrived at the newspaper two years ago, the ADE was old school.

There was nothing on their website to motivate people to send in tips.

She was quick to remedy that by arranging with one of the local diners to offer a free coffee to anyone who sent in a solid tip.

Maggie had laughed at it. Said it wouldn’t work.

Days later, she ate her own words and the local diner was overrun.

Now the only problem they had was being one of the first in the region to get the news out.

So much had changed since she’d gotten involved in journalism.

With the birth of social media, everyone with a phone could take a photo or video or tweet out a message, and within an hour, thousands would know.

Newspapers were going the way of the dinosaurs and with it the revenue of the print newspaper. Few people wanted to shell out the money when they could load up the internet on their phone and get the news on-demand as it happened.

Lena knew if they didn’t evolve, they’d all be out of a job.

That’s why she’d been urging the newspaper to update their website, offer financial incentives for tips, and create a way for readers to request coverage of stories that weren’t getting enough attention.

It was a chance to generate original content that could only be accessed through an online subscription or purchasing a paper.

Still, it was a hard sell and she was already starting to rethink the future of her career.

Maybe she could go it alone as a freelance journalist. Others she knew had.

At least that way she wouldn’t be tied to one region and she could cover whatever she wanted and for whoever she wanted.

“I’m pretty sure I recall you saying that Noah used to work too much,” Maggie Coleman said, grinning from across the room.

Not taking her eyes off the screen, Lena typed at a feverish pace. “Maggie, we received the tip late. If I let this slide until Monday, it will be old news.”

“I admire your drive, Lena, but you don’t have anything to prove. You’re not on probation and this isn’t the big city. Remember, folks here move at a snail’s pace.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to.”

Maggie chuckled, shaking her head as she walked over.

“Even if you had gotten it out this morning, locals won’t read it until Monday. They are days behind. Heck, I only check my mailbox once a week.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, half-listening.

“And seriously, another story about death, so soon after the Sutherland case? Why don’t you let me give this one to Carl?”

“Carl?” That got her attention. She pulled off her glasses and leaned back in her leather chair. “Are you kidding me?”

Maggie smirked.

Lena knew she was yanking her chain. Carl McNeal was a cocky reporter who had been working with the newspaper for far longer than she had.

He’d cut his teeth in journalism with a position over at The New York Times until he opted to retreat to the quiet life of Saranac — though that wasn’t exactly the truth.

After a little digging, Lena discovered the NYT had canned his ass for lying.

Still, Maggie didn’t see any harm in it.

She said the news wasn’t truth, just poorly bended lies.

Anyway, instead of inspiring up-and-coming investigative journalists, he preferred to slither around the office, slurping coffee, throwing in his two cents where it wasn’t needed and spouting stories of his time in the field as if he was some Pulitzer Prize winning journalist. It was a pathetic sight but somehow, he managed to do no wrong in the eyes of Maggie.

The phone jangled, interrupting her train of thought.

She expected it to be another tip or an update on the breaking story of the unknown woman pulled from the lake over in High Peaks.

Lena lifted a finger and Maggie winked at her before walking away .

“Good morning, Adirondack Daily Enterprise ,” she said, holding the phone in the crook of her neck while continuing to type.

“Is this Lena Grayson?”

“It is.”

“My name is Hannah Chang; I was hoping I might be able to get your help. I saw on the website that you are accepting ideas for stories that you would look into.”

“Go Public. Yes.”

“I emailed you a story but no one replied.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, we’re a little backed up at the moment.”

“Two of my dogs have been stolen.”

Lena stopped typing; she chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I’m… sorry to hear that. Um. Well, we generally investigate stories that aren’t getting much attention and are of interest to the public. I can’t guarantee yours will be selected. We get a lot of people submitting ideas and…”

The woman groaned. “And this is why it continues.”

“Continues?”

“Gangs stealing dogs. My dogs are not the only ones that have been taken. Zeus and Penelope are just two of many. And no one is doing anything about it.”

Lena picked up a pen and jotted down on a sticky note a few items she needed to collect from the grocery store before she forgot. “Um. Have you alerted the police?” she asked, distracted.

The woman laughed. “The police don’t do anything. They treat pets like a lost phone. It means nothing to them. And even if these good-for-nothing A-holes get caught, they would just slap them with a fine and send them on their way.”

“Well, to be honest, I’m not sure how we can help.”

“I’ve seen your pieces. The news gets the attention of people. You shed light on wrongdoing and hold the powers that be accountable. These people need to be held accountable. ”

“Sure, but…”

“But what? You’re desperate for stories, aren’t you? I’m handing you one on a silver platter, and video footage to go with it.”

That got her attention. “Video?”

“Yes. They took my dogs straight out of my yard.”

“Have you shown that to the police?”

“You’re not listening. They don’t do anything.” Hannah released a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry to be so sharp. I… I haven’t slept well since they were taken. I just can’t believe anyone would do this.”

Lena understood how deeply attached folks were to pets.

Ethan had been asking for a dog since Noah had brought Axel around.

The problem was they lived busy lives. Dogs needed stability.

Not someone who would see them for a few hours in the evening and then leave them all day.

That wasn’t fair. That was also the reason why shelters were full of animals.

People got caught up in the adorable phase, when a dog was just a pup, and then realized fast that they weren’t just a lot of work, they were costly.

Vet bills. Food. Grooming. In many ways it was like raising a child.

Lena took a gulp of her coffee only to realize it was cold. She grimaced as she swallowed.

“Are you still there?” Hannah asked.

“Yes. Yes. Your two dogs. What breed are they?”

“French bulldogs. Listen, I understand you’re busy but I don’t know anyone else to turn to. I figure the more people who know, the more eyes there will be out looking for those who do this.”

“Do you know anyone who might have wanted to take them?”

“No.”

“Look, I know a few people in the police department. I could have them look into it. If you want to send over the video, your address, the date of when they were taken and a photo, and let us know any identifying features the dogs have, I will see what I can do. No promises.”

“Thank you.”

She hung up and sat there chewing it over.

“Who was that?” Maggie asked.

“Uh?”

“On the phone.”

Lena leaned back in her leather chair, twiddling a pen between her fingers. “A woman wants us to cover a story of dogs being stolen in the region, specifically two of hers. You heard about anything like that happening around here?”

“For sure. As of late though?” Maggie shook her head. “Nothing. I mean I’ve heard of dog thefts happening around the country but not around here for a while. There you go. Maybe you should look into it.”

Lena scoffed. “With this case of a missing woman on the table right now, I’ve got a better idea, have Carl deal with it.”

“No. I think you should.”

“Maggie.”

“Don’t Maggie me. Since you’ve been back, you’ve barely taken any time off.”

“That’s because I have two kids to take care of.”

“But now you have Aiden to help.”

“We’re engaged. Not married.”

“Still. I saw the way that last case chewed you up.”

“It was Noah’s brother. My ex-brother-in-law.”

“Carl will handle the missing woman. I want you to deal with this lady’s situation. We need the people of the town to know that we care and there isn’t anything better for that than you breaking wide a story of dogs being thieved.”

“Maggie. C’mon. I’ll do it after this. ”

“You’re not a cop.”

“Nor is Carl.”

“But he’s handled more crime stories than you.”

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“It’s true. You’re good, Lena, but…”

She closed her eyes tight as if someone was raking nails down a chalkboard. “Don’t say it.”

“He’s more experienced.”

She popped her eyes open and stared at her screen. “At least let me get this article out.”

“You write it. He’ll edit and publish.”

“C’mon.”

Maggie placed a hand on her shoulder. “You know I have your best interest at heart.” She walked off, leaving Lena feeling deflated.

Across the room, she saw Carl enter the office, fashionably late as he would call it.

He sauntered in with an air of self-importance, surveying the room with a sly grin.

He had a full head of carefully crafted dark hair, which he was constantly running his fingers through.

If that wasn’t bad enough, his thick and well-groomed mustache and designer glasses gave him a touch of old-world sophistication.

His sharp, tailored suit hugged his frame perfectly, and the top button of his shirt revealed a hint of gold peeking out from underneath.

His dress shoes clacked against the floor, echoing through the open space and drawing attention from those within earshot.

As he made his way over to his desk, he addressed a few colleagues with a causal nod and some random comment before he tossed his sleek leather messenger bag down with a sense of nonchalance.

Lena couldn’t help but notice a few disapproving glances from the more reserved nearby as he settled into his chair, leaned back, put his feet up on the desk and took a bite of a green apple .

He saw her staring, pointed at her and winked as he continued to munch.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath.

She shook her head and turned toward her monitor. Despite being taken off the missing woman case, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by the call.

Lena brought up Google and did a quick search on puppy thefts.

Article after article came up reporting dognapping on the rise.

It was estimated that over 200 million pets were stolen each year, with many purebreds snatched out of the hands of owners at gunpoint.

Investigative reporters had found it to be one of the world’s fastest growing illicit markets, coming in third behind narcotics and weapons.

As her eyes surveyed each article, she could see the bigger story.

It was massive and one that few newspapers covered in depth.

Once glance at the going prices for dogs, and it was clear why. Many of the dogs were being sold off in the high thousands.

While smaller breeds like French bulldogs, Pomeranians, Maltese and Chihuahuas were stolen because they were easy to carry, larger breeds like German shepherds and Golden retrievers were still being taken because they were purebred.

Thieves were skirting past the breeding phase and stealing pets out from under the noses of owners at a time when the animals were most valuable. Others were used for breeding.

It was unthinkable.

Most of the pups taken weren’t loose or tied up in front of a store. No, the brazen thieves were going so far as to break in or use violence against the owners.

As the minutes rolled by, Lena found herself nose-deep in watching surveillance footage online from cameras in businesses, homes, and streets.

One showed a man taking puppies right out of a pet grooming salon.

In another, a man broke into a dog kennel, and a third showed someone snatch a dog from a woman at an outside bar in Florida.

The worst was of a dog walker being shot.

Lena clicked off the browser and returned to finishing the article.

As her fingers were poised over the keyboard, and she considered her next words, she heard the ding of an email notification that she’d been expecting.

It was the video Hannah promised, a short grainy shot that she hoped would provide crucial evidence or a lead for the story, as without something to go on, she could see herself coming up empty-handed.

She clicked on the email and without hesitation opened it and watched in horror as the crime unfolded.

All of it was captured at night. The act was brazen and fast. Two individuals worked together, one clambering over a fence.

The other waited for the dogs on the other side.

Fortunately, there was no sound as she could only imagine the dogs’ whelps.

They were clearly distressed. Within seconds, the dogs were lifted over and the masked individuals hurried back to a waiting car.

Lena felt anger well up inside.

Being a police officer’s ex-wife, she was all too familiar with how cases like this might have been handled.

Theft was theft, whether it was a pet or not.

Law enforcement was probably treating it like any other theft.

The incident report would be assigned to an officer, but without anything to go on, and now with a woman pulled from the lake, a few missing pets would go to the bottom of the pile.

It was going to take some digging but Lena had a few ideas of where to start. Scooping up her phone, she began to make calls.