knew and possibly trusted.” The hand he pushed through his hair trembled.
“It’s something we need to consider.”
“Which would blow my theory out of the water. Because I know no one in this town has been in prison because of me. I grew up in Crystal Springs. I came back here five years ago and I know everyone. I have a hard time believing it could be someone I know. It’s more likely an ex-con.”
“The evidence says otherwise. Prove me wrong.”
He straightened. “I will.”
The door to the sheriff’s office opened and Colin, followed by Neil, came into the station. J.T.’s eighteen-year-old son looked almost as bad as his father. Dark circles under his eyes gave him a haunted look. And from Colin’s appearance, Madison surmised no one got any rest at the Fitzpatrick household.
J.T. strode toward the pair and enveloped his son in a bear hug, patting him on the back. Madison stayed off to the side for a few seconds while father and son exchanged some words. When she finally approached the threesome, both J.T. and Neil had their emotions under control.
“Dad, any news?”
J.T. shook his head.
“No ransom demand?”
“No, son.”
Neil perked up. “Then Ashley might just be missing.”
“That’s a possibility.”
The way J.T. had said the sentence left no doubt in Madison’s mind that it was a distant possibility, and his son picked up on that fact. Last year during the murder investigation J.T. would never have allowed his tone of voice to give any hint of what he was thinking unless he had wanted it that way. Now however, exhaustion and a father’s love had stripped him of his usual defenses.
“You don’t think it is, do you, Dad?”
“I’m not gonna lie to you. No, I don’t.”
“But if the person doesn’t want money, what…” All the color drained from Neil’s face. He collapsed back against the desk behind him and clutched its edge to keep himself upright. Tears sprang to his eyes.
J.T. grasped his son’s shoulders and forced Neil to look him in the eye. “Nothing is going to happen to Ashley. I will bring her home alive and safe. I won’t lie to you and I won’t mince words with you. I think some felon from my past has taken Ashley to get back at me.”
“Then she could be dead,” Neil said in a raw whisper.
“No!” J.T. pulled away and placed his fist over his heart. “I would know in here. She’s alive.”
As J.T. talked with Neil in a low voice, their heads bowed in prayer, Madison moved to Colin’s side. The emotional impact from the brief encounter between father and son left her reeling.
“Okay?”
The reverend’s question forced her to acknowledge what this case was doing to her. “No, I’m having a hard time distancing myself from this one. I wanted to come to Crystal Springs to help in the search for Ashley, but maybe I shouldn’t have.” The constriction in her chest rose into her throat. “His pain—it must be unbearable.” She twisted toward Colin. “If I’m having this much trouble keeping my personal feelings under control, how in the world is J.T. going to manage to keep his professional perspective?”
“One moment at a time. That’s all he can do. He knows God is with him and will take the burden from his shoulders. They will face it as one.” Colin took her hands. “The Lord has already eased J.T.’s load. He brought you here to help. You two worked well together last year.”
Madison glanced over at J.T. and saw him put an arm around his son’s shoulder. She prayed the reverend was right. A little girl’s life hung in the balance.
THREE
Day one, 6:00 a.m.: Ashley missing eleven and a half hours
Wisps of fog fingered their way through the trees, reaching toward the lake like claws digging at the earth. J.T. stood at his back gate, his skin clammy from the cool, damp spring air. The searchers had received their instructions and Ashley’s denim jacket for the dogs to get her scent. The teams had begun to move forward from his property line through the woods because the trail from the swing set led to the back gate. That only confirmed in J.T.’s mind he was on the right track.
A handler from Central City, a young police officer J.T. had worked with before, held Ashley’s jacket up to his German shepherd. After a few sniffs, his dog took off to the right into the forest.
J.T. hurried after the dog and his handler. The German shepherd stopped at the base of an elm and smelled its trunk. In the distance J.T. heard another dog bark.
Although he knew this wasn’t a viable lead, J.T. checked the area around the tree just to be sure. “Dead end. Ashley often comes out here and climbs this tree. She’s been wanting me to build her a fort in—” The rest of the words couldn’t get past the knot lodged in J.T.’s throat. He might never get the opportunity to build that fort he’d kept putting off. If only he had another chance…
Day one, 6:30 a.m.: Ashley missing twelve hours
Madison rang the Goldsmiths’ doorbell, scanned J.T.’s neighborhood. A white Escort sat in the neighbors’ driveway. People headed toward the side street where the volunteers were signing in. The barricade in front of J.T.’s house still stood, proclaiming a crime had been committed. Several reporters milled about, looking for people to interview. Thankfully she’d been able to evade them.
Behind her she heard the door open and turned toward an older man. She showed him her FBI badge. “I would like to talk to Mrs. Goldsmith.”
“I was just about to call the sheriff.”
“Why?”
“Ruth remembered some more about that car she saw pulling out of the side street yesterday evening.” He stood to the side to allow her into his house.
A muscular woman, medium height, came into the foyer from what looked like the living room. She stuck out her hand.
Madison shook it, noticing the scent of vanilla permeating the house. “What did you remember about the car?”
“I’ve been baking sugar cookies. I do that when I need to think.” Ruth turned back into the room. “Come in and have some coffee.”
Madison glanced at her watch. Minutes ticked by faster than she wanted. The longer Ashley was missing, the harder it would be to find her—alive. That thought prompted her to say, “I can’t, but thanks for the offer. I have a lot of people to interview this morning.” She took several steps into the room. “What do you remember, Mrs. Goldsmith?”
“Ruth. The color was definitely a metallic blue, not gray as I thought last night.”
Madison nodded, remembering that from the report she’d read. She bit down on the inside of her cheek as Ruth sat again on the couch and brought her mug to her lips.
“The
