Lucy and Maggie had tromped nearly every inch of the hillside looking for the man in the red shirt, but he had disappeared.
Huffing, Maggie leaned over, placing her palms on her knees and trying to catch her breath. “I think we need helicopters.”
“Agreed.” Lucy leaned up against a tree, panting.
Maggie crooked her head to speak into her radio. “Officers in the canyon. Meet above. We’re going to make a new plan.”
After making arrangements for an air search, Maggie hiked back up the hill to her car. She needed to start working the case in town. Lucy was staying behind to head up a new search team, scouring the canyon in a grid pattern.
Maggie’s phone rang right when she pulled into the police department lot. She was going to exchange her car for a squad that was better equipped and had a dashboard radio.
It was Hendricks calling from the hospital. They’d I.D’d the kid. Charlie Dawson. The emergency room doctor had dated the girl’s dad in high school and they were still friends.
Hendricks had just spoken to the girl’s father. She’d spent the night at Ellie Hatton’s house. Another girl had joined them, but Hendricks wasn’t sure about that girl’s name yet. Ellie’s parents were Steve Hatton, and stepmom, Janet.
Maggie’s stomach tightened when she heard there had been a sleepover with more kids and that the Hatton family was involved.
If all three girls had been in the canyon, this situation had gone from bad to worse. On her way to the Hatton house, Maggie switched cars at the station. She needed her squad. As she pulled out of the department parking lot, Maggie radioed Lucy and told her about the other girls and to keep an eye out for them.
“We got the K9 here finally. He’s scenting on the kid’s shirt and a bandanna by that Clamper’s campfire,” Lucy said. “If those girls are missing, try to get some clothing item from their folks.”
“Will do,” Maggie said pulling onto Skyline Drive.
“Let’s just hope they are safe in bed,” Lucy said. “This canyon is full of old mineshafts. Most aren’t safe to even stick your head in.”
Pulling into the driveway of the Skyline Drive house, she knew in a few minutes she’d find out whether Charlie Dawson had wandered into the woods alone last night or whether her friends had gone with her. And more importantly, whether the friends were safe in the Skyline Drive home. Or somewhere else.
“I’m here. Will get back to you after I talk to the girls. If they aren’t here—” Maggie trailed off.
“Then we got a big fucking problem.”
Lucy reassured Maggie that if those girls were anywhere in that canyon, the K9 and other searchers would find them.
“Let’s just cross our fingers they are home asleep and don’t know a thing.” Maggie said.
“Roger that.”
Maggie was glad she’d taken the few minutes to trade her car for the squad. It made her feel official, professional. She needed that right now. Something about this house filled her with insecurity, made her feel small, insignificant, and ineffective.
All the curtains were still closed. Maggie suspected that everybody was still in bed and that nobody knew that Charlie Dawson wasn’t there anymore. She pushed aside the thought that the other two girls were hurt somewhere in the canyon. Stick to the facts. Maybe Charlie had tried to walk home on her own. All Maggie knew right then was that Charlie wasn’t inside this house. Hopefully the other girls were still asleep.
Pushing back her shoulders, Maggie unfolded herself from the car. She slammed the door a little harder than usual and kept her eyes on the curtained windows, searching for movement.
The house seemed silent, asleep.
On the front stoop, she rapped on the wooden door forcefully.
And waited. Nothing. She glanced down at her watch. It was nine in the morning. A reasonable hour. She pressed the doorbell with her index finger, holding it down a little longer than she might have normally. That didn’t work, either.
She waited another minute, watching the second-hand swoop around her watch face. She raised her nightstick to give the door a good whap. To her surprise, the door swung open. With it came an overpowering smell of flowers that made Maggie’s eyes water.
The red-haired mother stood there in a pink kimono, hair mussed, face creased with marks from the bed covers. Her forehead crinkled when she saw Maggie.
“Yes?”
“Janet? What’s going on?” A man’s voice.
The judge. Maggie blushed when she realized he was only wearing a white terry cloth robe. Unlike the mom, who was yawning and bored, Steve Hatton’s expression turned to one of panic.
“Sir, can I come in?’
The three of them stood in the foyer. After introductions, Maggie coughed a few times from the flower scent. The entire first floor was dotted with vases of fresh orange and yellow flowers.
Maggie cleared her throat. “I was told that Charlie Dawson stayed the night here last night?”
The father cursed. “Don’t tell me something happened to Matt?”
Maggie shook her head. “Charlie was found in the woods early this morning. She’d been stabbed. She’s in surgery right now.”
The stepmom, which was how she had identified herself to Maggie in curt tones, gasped.
Maggie continued. “A logger found her on Old Courtemanche Road. We think she crawled up the trail from somewhere around Whiskey Flats. I’d like to speak to your daughter.”
She couldn’t help but hold her breath as she said it. So far, no other curious faces had appeared in the hallway.
“Oh my God, Old Courtemanche Road is on the other side of the canyon.” The woman waved toward the back of the house. “There’s a trail out back that leads down into the canyon, but the girls would never go there.” The stepmom put her hand to her mouth, grabbing her own cheeks with her thumb and index finger.
“Let me get Ellie. They slept in the basement. I’m sure there’s some explanation. Some mistake.” Steve Hatton didn’t wait for an answer. He turned and disappeared around a corner.
A few seconds later he re-appeared, his face white and rushed by, pounding up the stairs to the second floor. The stepmom stared at Maggie for a second with wide eyes and then turned and ran after her husband.
Maggie paced, ears straining. Then she heard it.
Screaming.
Instinctively, one hand went for her radio and the other for her gun.
Steve Hatton appeared at the top of the stairs a few seconds later, his face ashen.
Maggie was already on her radio by the time he spoke.
“They’re gone.”
Maggie paused in front of the Skyline Drive house. She had no idea how Charlie had crossed the river, but somehow the girl had, and made it up the other side. When Hendricks had called from the hospital, he said emergency room doctors told him the knife had come within millimeters of the girl’s heart. Maggie wasn’t sure exactly how long a millimeter was. She just knew it meant the kid was damn lucky.
The other girls might not have been.
A helicopter thumped above the house, kicking up leaves in a small maelstrom and causing Maggie to slip on her dark sunglasses and shield her eyes while peering up. She saw the passenger in the chopper give her a thumbs up before it swooped down into the canyon, heading toward the opposite side where Charlie Dawson had been found.
Maggie could see the Hatton’s’ distressed faces pressed against the house’s window, looking out. It looked like Steve Hatton was pushing Janet Hatton away. Embarrassed to get a glimpse of such an intimate scene, Maggie turned away.
A few seconds later, half a dozen cars pulled into the driveway.
Maggie greeted them and led them around the back of the house where the steep trail, which looked more like a deer path, began.
Then, she heard the excited voices on her radio and leaned her head down to her shoulder and turned up the volume.
“Officer needs help.”
Then a few second later:
“Code 4. Suspect in custody.”
They’d arrested the Clamper.