school was brought in to perform for the patients at Kennington. Including – wait for it – the male dangerous sex offender posse.’
‘What the—?’
‘Yes,’ said Janine. ‘Several male patients had to be removed from the audience for … well, you can guess.’
‘That is vile.’
‘So, anyway, the kids leave after the performance, they get back on the school bus and when they arrive back at the school, one little girl is missing. Nine years old. Gina Orsak. Her body was never found.’
‘That is heartbreaking,’ said Ren. ‘Any leads?’
‘No, nothing,’ said Janine. She paused. ‘So, is Misty with you?’ Misty was Ren’s black and white border collie cadaver dog.
‘Aw, you always look out for my girl,’ said Ren. ‘And no, she is not with me – I had to run straight from hot agent’s place. But could you go to my house in the morning and pick her up for me? Hot agent is on his way there now, bless his heart, but can you relieve him – please? It’s just … you know Misty so well. He could be clueless.’
‘Well, he can’t be amazing at everything,’ said Janine.
Ren laughed, but as soon as the call was over, the laughter died, and the Jeep was quiet. Golden was behind her and she was heading for Breckenridge, a route she knew so well – every beautiful straight and turn. Ren knew that it would lead her to a place she loved, but one that trailed poignant memories like smoke. The previous year, she had investigated the murder of a fellow FBI Agent. Jean Transom’s body had been found not far from Breckenridge. The case had brought Ren together with terrible scenes, with death and secrets and unprofessional risks. But it had also brought her together with Janine Hooks and with Bob Gage, and with Salem Swade, a wonderful, damaged Vietnam Vet – Misty’s first owner. It had also brought her together with Billy Waites. And it had brought her closer to being fired than she had ever been before.
8
The Summit County Sheriff’s Office was off Highway 9 on the edge of Breckenridge – a single-story, pale brick building that the Sheriff was kind enough to share with the county jail and courthouse.
Ren walked across the parking lot through thick flakes of falling snow that were being swept around her in the wind. She stopped inside the door and popped some Wintergreen gum in her mouth. She sprayed some perfume, and brought a citrus cloud through security.
Goodbye eau de tramp.
Sheriff Bob Gage was leaning against the reception desk with a mug of coffee in his hand. He was six foot tall with neat side-parted fair hair, a warm face, and a belly larger than he would have liked. His arms were muscular, not from gym time, but from hauling and hammering and chopping things.
‘You give the best hugs,’ said Ren. She could smell sporty shower gel and detergent. He had a good old-fashioned wife who laid his clothes out on the bed for him in the morning.
‘You’re not so bad yourself for a skinny gal,’ said Bob.
‘I’m far from skinny,’ said Ren. She started to pull off her coat.
‘Are you kidding me?’ said Bob. ‘I’m surprised you made it across the parking lot without the wind cracking your head off a wall.’
‘Getting up after your phone call made me feel like I had cracked my head off a wall.’
‘So, not from being over-served at a bar last night …’ said Bob.
‘Absolutely not,’ said Ren. She smiled.
Bob took her coat and hung it up for her.
Ren felt a hand on her lower back. ‘Hey, Ren, welcome back.’ She turned to see Undersheriff Mike Delaney, his big smile, and his blond hat hair.
‘Hey, there,’ said Ren, hugging him lightly. ‘You always look fresh from the slopes.’
‘That’s because he usually is,’ said Bob.
‘Not now, I’m not,’ said Mike. ‘It’s crazy over there at the hotel. And bad news is ten thousand people have hit town this weekend for the snowboarding championships.’
‘So, fill me in …’ said Ren.
‘The missing girls are Laurie Whaley, eleven years old, and the sitter, Shelby Royce, sixteen years old,’ said Bob. ‘The Whaleys came back from the restaurant, the two girls were gone. The three-year-old son, his name is Leo, was there alone. Mike and I have taken statements from the Whaleys, from the guy on the front desk, any servers in the restaurant who were still there. The statements are in my office. We’re talking to the rest of the staff, the guests – there are twenty rooms, eighteen were occupied – and any other diners who were at hotel. The Royces – the sitter’s parents – are at the hotel too.’
‘Were you with the Whaley family the whole time since they reported it?’ said Ren.
‘I was,’ said Bob. ‘They were in the hotel reception with their three-year-old when I arrived. Poor kid had wet himself. I went back up to the room with all three of them, so they could change his clothes. The father had to change his shirt too, because he’d been carrying the kid.’
‘And you were with them the entire time …?’ said Ren.
‘If “entire” and “whole” mean the same thing, then yes,’ said Bob.
Mike smiled.
‘Sorry,’ said Ren. ‘I’m still asleep.’
‘And yes, I have the father’s shirt in an evidence bag,’ said Bob. ‘And both kids’ clothes. Here’s a photo of the eleven-year-old, Laurie Whaley,’ said Bob.
Ren took it. ‘Oh, God, she’s beautiful.’
Bob nodded. ‘I know. It was taken tonight in the hotel room on the step-mom’s cell phone. So, it’s what she was wearing.’
Pink pajamas.
‘Were any of her other clothes gone?’ said Ren. ‘A coat? Shoes?’
‘Not according to the parents, no.’
Ren looked out the window. ‘It’s freezing out there. And what about the sitter?’ said Ren.
‘No,’ said Bob. ‘Nothing of hers in the room. Here’s her photo.’
‘The blonde ponytail, the perfect skin, the perfect smile …’ said Ren. ‘These are two very pretty girls.’
‘I know,’ said Bob.
‘So, what’s your thinking – is this an abduction?’ said Ren. ‘Did the sitter take her? If not – who was the target? Laurie Whaley or Shelby Royce? Both of them? But I can’t see how that would work – different ages, strangers to each other … or were they?’
‘Until we know differently,
