Queen of Men (King Maker 2)

Turner’s eyes followed the direction of my finger. He was about to shrug it off when he really got a look at the disturbance in the stalks. “Where does this go?”

There was a set of footprints in the snow. One that led toward the field and began to come back. And there was something else.

We started walking forward, neither of us wanting to believe what may be true.

“This is our natural barrier to the public road that is about a half a mile straight ahead. And the stalks run about a mile parallel to the road. It keeps people from wandering in here in summer and feeds the animals in winter. The stalks are tall, and it’s easy to get lost when in season.”

The stalks were tall, taller than me, but limp. They blended in like a forest of tan. Still, it was easy to see a trail of broken stalks someone left in their wake. The width of the path suggested that someone was probably carrying something while trampling through.

We traded looks before we took off. It was easy to navigate with the path already made for us.

In a couple of minutes, we’d made it to a road. What I saw chilled me. Tire tracks were left in the muddy snow on the side of the road. It appeared someone had been parked here. And most likely they had Bailey with them.

I saw fear in Turner’s eyes that mirrored my own.

“Whoever it was could be anywhere now, most likely on a highway headed out of state,” he declared.

“There have to be cameras that may have spotted something.”

His response to me was, “We don’t even know what kind of car it was.”

My answer was to look at the tire tracks, knowing he was smart enough to get it. Tires were manufactured to fit only specific vehicles. We could narrow the possibilities down considerably, given the right forensic tools.

Out of my pocket, I pulled my sat phone. I caught Turner eyeing the device before he spoke. “I guess there are things you can do for her that I can’t. Are you calling a team of professionals to find her?” His voice was laced with bitterness. Fear had a way of letting one’s true emotions show through.

Matching my tone with his, I said, “You aren’t the only one who cares deeply for her.”

He rolled his eyes and swept the street instead of looking at me. I dialed a number. With dawn only recently coming to pass, I glimmered a bit of satisfaction when a groggy voice answered. It was the small things that kept one sane in times of crisis.

“What?”

“It’s Kalen.” I kept it to the point.

There was a pause before the voice said, “Bailey’s Kalen?” There could have been pleasure gained in that question if it was true.

“Yes,” I answered in the affirmative. No need for clarification at this point.

“Why are you calling at this ungodly hour?”

Not wanting to waste time, I kept it simple. “You remember that audit issue she found?”

“What now, you want me to help locate the people who did it?” I could hear amusement in the voice that said I would need his help.

“No, I want you to help locate Bailey… Matt, she’s been taken.”

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