His first day on the job, the four unsolved missing persons cases had been dumped into Dutch’s lap. Now, he had a fifth woman missing. He had a limited budget, a staff that was minimally trained and experienced, and the condescending interference of the FBI, which had become involved because it appeared this was a kidnap situation, and that was a federal offense.
Now, two and a half years after the first girl had vanished off a popular hiking trail, there was still no suspect. It wasn’t Dutch’s fault, but it had become his baby, and it was turning ugly.
He was in no mood for criticism, even coming from people who were going through a living hell. “I’ve still got a list of Millicent’s acquaintances to talk to,” he said. “Soon as the weather clears, I swear to you that I and every man on the force will be out there searching for her.” He stood up, signaling an end to the discussion. “Would you like me to get somebody to drive you home in a patrol car? The streets are becoming treacherous.”
“No thank you.” With admirable dignity, Mr. Gunn assisted his wife from her chair and ushered her toward the front of the building.
“Hard as it is, try to keep a positive outlook,” Dutch said as he followed them down the short hallway.
Mr. Gunn merely nodded, put on his hat, and escorted his wife through the door into the wailing wind.
“Chief, we got a—”
“In a minute,” Dutch said, holding up his hand to interrupt the officer manning the incoming phone lines, all of which were blinking red. He pulled his cell phone from his belt and checked to see who had called.
Lilly. And she’d left a message. Hastily he punched in the keys to access his voice mail.
“Dutch, I don’t know if . . . get . . . or not. I . . . accident coming down the mountain . . . Ben Tierney . . . hurt. We’re . . . the cabin. He needs med . . . attention. If . . . possibly can . . . help. As soon . . . possible.”
CHAPTER
6
LILLY HAD KEPT THE VOICE MAIL MESSAGE brief and to the point, in case her cell phone lost its tenuous signal. By the time she stopped talking, the phone was dead again.
“I don’t know how much of that went through,” she said to Tierney. “Maybe Dutch will get enough of it to figure out the rest.” She had pulled the stadium blanket off her head, but it was bunched around her shoulders. The wool was wet, unmelted sleet still clinging to it. She was cold, wet, and uncomfortable.
Of course she couldn’t complain of her discomfort. It was mild compared with Tierney’s. He was sitting upright but swaying as though at any moment he would topple over. Fresh blood had soaked the black watch cap. Frost clung to his eyebrows and eyelashes, making him look ghostly.
She motioned toward his eyes. “You’ve got—”
“Frost? You’ve got it, too. It’ll go away in a minute.”
She brushed the ice crystals from her eyes and nostrils. “I’ve never been exposed to the elements like this. Never. Nothing more extreme than getting caught in the rain without an umbrella.”
She got up and crossed the room to the wall thermostat. After setting the gauge, she heard the reassuring whir of moving air coming from the vent in the ceiling. “It’ll get warm in here soon.” As she moved back toward the sofa, she said, “I can’t feel my toes or fingers.”
He put his middle finger between his teeth and used them to pull off his glove, then motioned her toward the sofa on which he sat. “Sit down and take off your boots.”
She sat down next to him and removed her gloves, then worked her feet out of her wet boots. “You knew these weren’t going to keep my feet dry.”
“It was a safe guess.”
Her socks were wet, as were the legs of her slacks from the knees down. Her outfit had been chosen for fashion, not for protection against blizzard conditions.
He patted the top of his thigh. “Put your leg up here.”
Lilly hesitated but then settled her leg across his thighs. He removed her thin sock. She didn’t recognize her own foot. It was as white as bone, bloodless. He pressed it tightly between his hands and began to chafe it vigorously.
“This will hurt,” he warned.
“It does.”
“Got to get the circulation going again.”
“Have you ever written about surviving a blizzard?”
“Not from firsthand experience. I realize now just how smug and uninformed that article was. Better?”