LEANN WALKED THROUGH the station’s door and headed for one of the computer terminals behind the front desk. Typing in Jason Blackgoat’s full name, she waited for the information to load.
“The hospital says Trudy Gilmore,” Lucas informed, coming to stand behind Leann, “has done little more than eat and snore. She is still insisting there is no one to call.”
“No one?”
“We found a mother living in Abilene, Texas, but she’s not answering her phone, and we can’t find a record of employment. I talked to an officer there. He’s sending a patrol car to talk to the mother or some of the neighbors.”
“How old is Trudy?”
“Fifteen.”
Only three years older than Timothy. Why wasn’t a parent rushing to the hospital, thanking the police for finding their child, caring for her?
Maybe Trudy’s parents were like Leann’s, who found it easy to let go. Her sister had the most contact with their parents. Their older brother hadn’t been in Sarasota Falls since he’d graduated high school almost two decades ago. Except for the occasional phone call, which she always instigated, he might as well have fallen off the face of the earth.
Leann had another hour before her shift was over and she wanted to check on a few things. Jace’s file was still loading so she pulled out her phone and found a text from Gary with information from Russell about her brother and Jace. Immediately, she tried her brother’s number, although she wasn’t sure what she would say if he answered. Maybe she’d start by asking how well he knew Jace Blackgoat and end with—
Before she could finish the thought, a prerecorded voice stated her brother was unavailable and advised her to leave a message. That never worked. She started to leave one anyone, but instead was interrupted by a new call.
“Hey, Patsy,” she answered.
“I’m just calling to remind you about tomorrow night. You’re still set to help out.”
“Looking forward to it.” She was and wasn’t. If she could go as just a mom, she’d love the school dance. But, should something go wrong, like a fight between two kids or underage drinking, she’d be the one to deal with it, which likely wouldn’t earn her any points from her oldest, who would be embarrassed.
She ended that call and glanced back at the file loading on Jace. It was almost complete. She had other ways to find out information. She stepped up to the front desk and started to ask Lucas a question, but he was dealing with Mrs. Edna Templeton, Leann’s third-grade teacher. Lucas unzipped a brown canvas backpack, saying, “Where did you find it again?”
“At the park next to the library. My dogs found it under a bush.”
“I’m not seeing anything with a name,” Lucas noted. “I think it must be a teenager’s. Look, here’s a book, a half bag of cookies, an art tablet—”
“Young man,” Mrs. Templeton said, “simply put the bag in lost and found and be done with it. Someone will claim it or not.” Then, she turned to Leann and said, “Don’t pay attention to your mother. You’re doing a fine job raising your boys.”
Great, there had been witnesses to Leann and her mother’s exchange outside the ladies’ auxiliary meeting.
Mrs. Templeton marched out the front door.
“Was she your third-grade teacher too?” Leann asked Lucas.
“How’d you know?”
“Because she called you young man.”
Lucas laughed. “You had a question for me?”
“Yes, did your daughter ever mention Jace Blackgoat or my brother? They’d have been near the same age, right?”
“My youngest was in high school with them, but I don’t remember her mentioning anything.”
“You ever attend one of the dances?”
“I did, once. I was always working, it seemed.”
Sitting at her computer, she read Jace’s details. Nothing about being arrested, although his stay in the Springer station had been noted.
There was also a flag on his record stating he’d been a victim of identity theft. Interesting. But, they still had an eyewitness’s identification.
Picking up the phone, she called Lydia. A friendly voice turned worried after Leann identified herself. “No, no,” Leann assured, “your grandfather’s fine. We’re just fairly sure Jace is in the area, and we’re trying to decide how to proceed.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’d like to question Jace about a shoplifting incident.”
Lydia was quiet for a few seconds, then said, “I realize this is what you might expect me to say because I’m his sister, but truthfully Jace has a job and money. He has no needed to steal. Please call me if you do find him.”
Leann debated with herself, but common sense told her it would be a good idea to share everything. “I just came from your grandfather’s cabin. He’s missing about a hundred dollars and he says Jace wouldn’t have taken it.”
Lydia muttered, “I told him not to hide things anymore. He’s right. Jace would never have taken it.”
“When was the last time you spoke with your brother?”
“A few weeks ago. He’s working in Nebraska.”
Which jibed with what Russell claimed. “Do you know the name of his employer? Jace says it’s the post office.”
“Actually, he works for a trucking firm they contract with. I don’t recall the name.”
“Could you try calling him today? And, give him my number if he answers. We would like to talk to him.” Leann rattled off her seven digits. She wasn’t through.
“Lydia, all those years ago, after Jace left Sarasota Falls, did he come to you?”
“No. I was living in a dorm at Arizona State University. Whatever was going on with Jace, he didn’t want to mess things up for me. I’d have left school for him, though. I love him that much.”
“Your grandfather has no clue why Jace left town. Do you?”
“No. And I’ve stopped asking. He’s made it clear that he’s not willing to tell me why. I figure it’s just another small-town mystery.”
Leann could only nod.
Her intuition told her the case she was working on hadn’t started with a bar fight or stolen bag of cookies but had begun decades earlier.
SATURDAY NIGHT, GARY left Wilma at the cabin. Goober happily sat on the passenger side, tongue lolling, waiting for whatever the evening presented. Peeve was staying with Russell, as both company and guard dog.
Attending a school Valentine’s dance as a volunteer was the last thing he wanted to do, but his brother’s call this morning had given him little choice.
“How do you forget something as important as a Valentine’s dance?” Gary had asked in amazement.
“When you get the chance to go away with your own valentine, you forget about everyone else’s,” was Oscar’s long-distance response. “Besides, in my mind, I had it down as the weekend before Valentine’s day. I forgot they had to bring it forward because of a conflict. Listen, I can’t spend any more time talking about it. It’s expensive to use your cell on these cruises.”
Gary wanted to ask Oscar if Leann ever talked about Clark, but Oscar ended the call before he could.
The February wind carried a slight chill, and Gary was almost glad to be doing something besides practicing his German, working, or scanning the internet looking for information about Clark Crabtree, a single accountant who seemed to have no social media presence.
Jace Blackgoat’s social media presence was much the same. Null and void.
The elementary school was aglow with sparkling lights and giant cardboard cutout hearts. Gary walked inside, Goober at his side, following the handprinted directions to the school’s gym.
“Hello?” A woman with a name badge reading Patsy Newcastle hurried up to him, peering into his face, and said, “Oh, you must be Oscar’s brother.”
“Geraldo Guzman. Call me Gary and just tell me what you need me to do.”
She stuck out her hand, gave a firm shake. “Your job will be the doors at the back of the gymnasium. With all the mothers here, I doubt you’ll have anything to do, but this dance is for sixth through eighth grade, and we have a few boys who think it’s cool to sneak off with their cell phones or a stolen pack of cigarettes and pretend they’re grown up.”
“I can handle that,” Gary said.
“I believe it. Leann says you can handle just about anything.”
“Leann said that?”
“She did. She’s my best friend and said you could handle anything except for dogs. But, this one seems to be behaving for you.” She bent down, rubbed Goober’s head and said, “And this is...?”
“Goober. I’m watching her for a buddy.”
Patsy made a face. “Goober?”
“Consider her my emotional-support dog.”
“Okay,” Patsy said slowly, adding, “By the way, thanks for pitching in.”
“You’re welcome.”
He thought about asking her about Clark, Jace, too, for that matter, but decided to wait, build a bit of a relationship. Plus, he didn’t want her mentioning to Leann that he was probing. Clark, being her brother, was something of a conflict of interest.
Someone called her name and she quickly pointed out the doors where he’d be stationed. There were no kids yet, except for ones attached to mothers who were in volunteer positions. Quite a few last-minute details were being completed. While her son loved on Goober, Gary helped one woman hang decorations. Afterward, he set up a table that had a particularly difficult leg. Then, Gary walked the auditorium, snagging a few desserts and wondering who paid for the roses that were for sale: boy or mom?
Oscar had always taken their mom to things like this. Gary never wanted to go. Too many people. Looking around, Gary took a deep breath. Would there be too many people tonight? Would he get that trapped feeling he used to get? Or, would the noise and the excitement rolling off kids and their parents overshadow the dread he seemed to feel, albeit less often lately.
That feeling that something was wrong formed in the pit of his stomach. What, he didn’t know. Worse, there was no way to make the unease go away. “One, two, three,” he counted, heading for the door he was supposed to guard and continuing to count under his breath, trying to control his breathing. Goober walked stiffly, at alert, obviously aware that something was going on with Gary.
“It’s all right,” Gary said, his voice sounding distant. He hoped no one else could sense his unease.
Someone touched his arm, and Gary turned, his fist as clenched as his teeth. “You all right?” Leann peered up at him, her face full of concern. Her reddish-colored hair hung past her shoulders in a gentle curl. Her ivory blouse was tucked into dark brown slacks. The jewelry was all flame green, matching her eyes.
“You all right?” she repeated.
“Yes.” He wasn’t, though. The room had gotten darker, maybe because the dance was about to start but maybe because Gary was fighting off the remnants of a panic attack.
Her hand went to his arm, her fingers wrapping around, bringing warmth and grounding him. Some of the tenseness left.
“Sometimes these things are a bit overdone. I saw you talking to my best friend, Patsy. Was she giving you a hard time?”
“Not really. She did happen to mention that you didn’t think I was too competent with dogs. She was also unimpressed with the name Goober.”
Leann laughed loud and free. First time he’d heard it. It was sweet and musical. “I live with two boys,” she said, “I get the name Goober. I don’t appreciate it, but I get it.”
“You volunteering, too?” Gary asked.
“Some, but mostly I’m here with my sons. They’re over there.” She pointed to a long table loaded with food. Two boys were busy running back and forth from the door to the table delivering desserts. The bigger boy looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. The smaller one looked around, erroneously determined that no one was watching and swiped not one but two cookies.
“Excuse me.” Leann marched across the room.
Gary didn’t blame the kid. Most of the sweets came from Shelley’s bakery. They tasted great. Waiting until Leann had stepped away from the table busy telling her offspring “Just one!” he headed over and took two cookies for himself.
“You’re supposed to wait.” The smaller kid appeared at his side and, completely ignoring his mother’s “Just one” dictate, took another cookie.
“You going to tell your mom?”
“What? No!”
“I’m Gary Guzman.” He held out his hand, looking the boy over and deciding that there was no doubt as to his lineage.
“Aaron Bailey. I don’t like to dance, but I love cookies.”
“Me, too.”
“My mom says you have three dogs. I like this one.”
“This is Goober. Unfortunately, none of them are mine. I’m watching them for other people.”
Aaron looked at him suspiciously. “You’re babysitting?”
“Dogsitting.”
“Are you getting paid?”
It figured a teenager, or almost teenager, would ask the question that Gary apparently wasn’t asking often enough. Because no, Gary wasn’t getting paid. He’d just spent hundreds of dollars building a kennel and for what...temporary, nonpaying lodgers.
He didn’t mind a bit when it came to Wilma or Peeve. Heck, Peeve would have carried the hammer for him, and Wilma? Well, Wilma was around for comic relief, and Max was his best friend. Goober, well, maybe he didn’t mind her either.
Of the three dogs, she was at his side the most.
Gary looked around, found a group of ten boys gathered around Goober all vying for her attention. The dog chose that moment to step away from her adoring fans to check out Gary’s whereabouts. Once she found him, the dog—content—returned to the children.
“There are a few things more important than money,” Gary finally said.
Aaron appeared to consider that, then agreed, “Like dogs.”
“Exactly.”
Aaron shuffled his feet a bit and asked, “Did you ever give a girl a valentine?”
“More than one,” Gary acknowledged.
“No, not like you gave every girl one and just signed your name. I mean did you ever give a real girl a valentine?”
Instinctively, Gary knew not to tease about the abundance of fake girls that had passed through his life. Instead, he asked, “You mean a girl you really like?”
“Yeah.”
Gary thought a moment. Maybe he hadn’t given any female a Valentine’s card. “Hmm, I gave flowers once.”
Aaron frowned. “Did you pick them?”
“No, bought them at the store.”
“Too weird,” Aaron decided.
“Hey, I gave my mother a special Valentine’s card. Made it myself. More than once!”
Aaron sniffed. “Doesn’t count. I gave my mom a Valentine’s card. She said it was the only one she got this year. Then, she gave my brother ‘the look.’”
Gary knew exactly what look Aaron was talking about when it came to ‘the look’ and suddenly wished he’d thought to buy Officer Bailey a Valentine’s card.
Patsy came up to stand next to him, sending Aaron scurrying away. “The doors officially open in ten minutes. Go ahead and take your station.”
“Yes, sir. I mean, ma’am.”
She gave him the once-over. “Leann said you were cheeky.”
“Leann seems to talk about me a lot.”
“No, I don’t.” Leann stepped up next to him. “It’s just that my best friend likes to sensationalize any topic that revolves around single men.”
Gary looked at Patsy’s left hand: ring.
“Oh, not me,” Patsy protested. “I’m happily married. I just keep hoping Le—”
“And I,” Leann interrupted, “keep hoping that she’ll find something more entertaining to do than bug her best friend about her love life.”
“Lack of love life,” Patsy corrected.
Gary couldn’t help it. He laughed. The unsettled feeling dissipated, completely, as he walked to his corner and stood guard so that no one left or entered. A few times he was called over to lift something heavy, and once he had to fix an electrical issue. Both Patsy and another woman brought him plates of food. Patsy did it with a smile and a smirk in Leann’s direction. The other woman—a tall brunette who looked like she’d be both loud and fun—had written her phone number on the paper plate right under the three chocolate chip cookies.
Ingenious.
A few months ago, he’d have chased her down. A few weeks ago, he’d have dialed the number. A few days ago, even, he’d have at least entered it in his cell phone for later reference. Tonight, Gary kept the cookies but not the plate.
Someone, Gary thought a math teacher, came over to offer a ten-minute break. Against his better judgment, Gary headed over to the side of the room where Leann stood talking to the woman selling roses.
“Gary, have you met Heather Riley?” Leann asked him.
“Ah, the chief’s wife.”
Heather smiled and reached out a hand for Gary to shake. She didn’t look old enough to be Tom’s wife. For that matter, she didn’t look old enough to have a kid in elementary school. “Nice to meet you.” She introduced the little girl next to her. “This is my niece. We’re helping out.”
“Mr. Oscar’s told us a few things about you,” the girl said.
“None of them true,” Gary said. “You can’t believe my brother.”
“Mr. Oscar always tells the truth.” The girl’s expression said it all. Oscar was lollipops and Gary green peas.
“I want to hear some of these stories,” Leann joined in. “I’m with Oscar almost every day. How come he hasn’t told me the stories?”
“Guess he’s afraid you won’t recover from the shock,” Gary teased.
“Aren’t you supposed to be over there in the corner?” Leann pointed to his station; the math teacher waved.
“I’m on break. And, aren’t you supposed to be dancing with your sons?”
“I’m on break.”
Something about looking down at the top of that glossy dark red hair and the tilt of her face made Gary wish he’d kept the number from the plate. Because if he had done that it meant he was safe. His heart was safe.
But he’d thrown it away. Hadn’t hesitated.
If Leann had put her number of the plate, he’d never be able to throw it away. And that scared him.
So, Gary told his feet to move.
They didn’t.
He ordered his feet to move.
They didn’t.
His hand, however, moved. It went in his back pocket and removed his wallet. A dollar later, he was the proud owner of a single red rose that he promptly handed to Leann.
It didn’t escape his notice that while he hadn’t hesitated to throw away a phone number, Leann hesitated to take the flower. Even now, she stared down at it as if thinking about handing it back.
Not the reaction he was going for.
A fairly slow song came over the speaker, the artist crooning something about girl trouble and woes. Great. Even the music knew what Gary was suffering from.
“Who chose the music?” he asked. “This doesn’t seem like one of today’s hot picks.”
Leann finally smelled the rose and smiled up at him. Then, she giggled, something he’d not heard her do. Maybe he’d want to hear it more.
Acting on impulse, he reached out his hands out her, drawing her close to him, and he led Leann onto a dance floor, where people half his height moved out of the way.
“That’s Timothy’s mom,” one of them said.
“Cool,” came a response.
“Gross,” one of the kids muttered.
Leann didn’t drape her arms around his neck like he wanted her to, but she didn’t bolt out the door and head for the hills either. Instead, she swayed, looking up at him and stating the obvious. “This isn’t really the right kind of song.”
“What would be the right kind of song?”
“Is there a song called ‘Stop Messing with My Head’?”
He stopped, unsure if she was serious or joking. When she smiled, he relaxed.
“No,” he replied, “but there’s a song called ‘My Mom Embarrassed Me on the Dance Floor Because She Didn’t Really Dance.’”
Leann rolled her eyes and stepped closer, still swaying and seeming not to care that he was holding both her hands, careful not to crush the rose. Her fingers were soft, warm, and he had the feeling that if he let go, he would spend the rest of the night trying to reclaim them. He could tell she didn’t want him to do anything but what they were doing. Standing on the dance floor, gazing at each other, touching, and with a half smile on her face.
He got it. She was as torn as he was.
But, she still didn’t move away from him. Maybe because they were in a sea of adolescents, maybe because she was a cop, and maybe because she wasn’t sure who he really was: friend, foe, stranger, admirer.
Sometimes he wasn’t sure either.
And his feet refused to leave the dance floor.
Still she swayed, her hands in his, her eyes—ever the cop—scanning the dance floor and surroundings. Then, her eyes came back to his and stopped. She had what his mother called cat eyes: all knowing, flame green and beautiful.
Their swaying slowed, but still he stayed right where he was, so close to her, afraid of breaking whatever spell held them together. She seemed to feel it, too, because a sudden look of doubt crossed her face. Their connection wavered and broke as she let go of him, stepped away and cleared her throat before saying, “I need to find my boys.”
He could only nod as he returned to his corner and endured the slap on the back the math teacher gave him.
For the rest of the dance, Leann paid no attention to him. She was focused on her two boys—sometimes dancing with one and sometimes dancing with both. The rose was nowhere in sight.
Aaron seemed to like being near his mother. The other one, Timothy, kept drifting off and hanging with his friends. Most of them had cell phones out. All of them kept glancing around to see if any grown-ups were nearby.
About the time Gary decided to head over, the disc jockey called last song and one of the moms swooped down, culled a child from the group and merged onto the dance floor. Like magpies came more moms until only Timothy stood there, alone: no phone.
Leann waved to Timothy and he joined his mother and Aaron on the dance floor, so he could be considered part of the family.
Gary wondered if he ever would.
“FUN TIME?” PATSY QUERIED. Gary wasn’t sure cleanup had been part of Oscar’s assignment, but somehow it had become part of his.
“Sure. The kids seemed to enjoy themselves,” he managed, hefting a garbage bag over one shoulder and carrying a second outside. Leann followed him with two of her own.
“Where are your boys?” he asked Leann.
“Aaron was falling asleep, so I sent them to the car to wait for me.”
“That’s where my son is,” Patsy joined in. She also had a garbage bag. “I told him he could either sit in the car or help, but he didn’t get to be in the way.”
The two women laughed easily. Then, someone called Patsy’s name and she scurried off.
“I thought you might show up at my place today,” Gary said, leaning against his truck and enjoying the way the wind sent her long hair blowing.
“Why?”
“Checking up on Russell.”
Leann shook her head. “Instead I was busy checking up on his grandson. I’ve left him messages. Russell was right. There’s a flag in his file about identity theft. You think we might be looking for someone besides Jace?”
“Didn’t the grocery store clerk recognize him?” Gary asked.
“She did.”
“I think you should stop by and talk to Russell,” Gary urged. “Tell him the latest.”
“I can do that.”
“Good.” He was tempted to ask her about her brother, but he’d loved dancing with her, and now he loved just being next to her. He didn’t want to possibly change the mood by bringing up her family.
“Oh,” Leann said suddenly, “I talked to Lydia, too. She has a hard time believing that Jace stole Russell’s money. There’s something going on... Something that I can’t put my finger on.”
“There are too many threads,” Gary agreed.
“What we need to do is make contact with Jace—”
“I spent years doing reconnaissance. I’m great at finding people. Especially people who don’t want to be found.”
“Were you military police, too?”
“I think my brother talks too much. I started as military police. Fort Bragg. An opportunity came along that enabled me to attend ranger school. I took it.”
She didn’t look impressed, and he definitely wanted to impress her.
“Wow, I’m impressed,” Patsy said, joining them. “No wonder we didn’t have any trouble, not with you guarding the door. Everything went so smoothly.”
“It was great.” Leann smiled.
Patsy, looking from one to the other of them, finally said, “You both seem way too serious.”
“We’re talking about Jace Blackgoat,” Leann said.
“Russell’s grandson,” Patsy supplied, “who’s supposedly back in town and shoplifting?”
“DID YOU KNOW JACE?” Gary asked.
“A little. He and my big brother were in ROTC together. I can remember Jace coming to the house a time or two because of some project he and Paul were doing. I thought Jace was cute.”
“What?” Leann’s voice was half indignant, half intrigued. Gary recognized it. She was torn between listening as a friend and listening as a cop. “You always told me when you had a crush on someone.”
“By the time I realized it was a crush, he was gone. And, he only came over once or twice. Clark was there, too.”
“Clark wasn’t ROTC.”
Patsy was saved from adding anything else when someone else said her name. She rolled her eyes, handed her bag to Gary, and said, “The cost of being in charge,” before hurrying off.
“Clark wasn’t ROTC,” Leann repeated, but her words were no longer musing. Instead, Gary noted concern. Maybe now was the time to find out a bit more.
“Your brother was in school the same time as Jace? Then you can ask him about Jace, right?”
“That’s not easy. Clark’s in Los Angeles and hard to get ahold of. Believe me, I already tried.”
Gary started to ask a second question, but Leann’s stricken look stopped him. “What?”
“He left the day after graduation. Clark’s never been back. Not even Christmas.”
“Like Jace?”
“Not like Jace,” she said. “At the end, he just couldn’t stand our father. He just...”
“Just what?”
“Just hated everything about Sarasota Falls.”
She left him standing there by the Dumpster. She’d gone from inquisitive to upset without taking a breath. And she’d uncovered something Jace and her brother shared more quickly than he’d expected.
But, she hadn’t trusted him enough to explore the possibility of a connection.