Vanished in the Mountains Read online

  “Hello?”

  “Dulcie, I’m glad I caught you.” His voice was pitched so low she barely heard it. “I hope you’re not already at work.”

  Should she tell him she hadn’t even left the sheriff department’s parking lot? It was embarrassing, but she needed to practice trust and honesty.

  “No. No, I’m not. I haven’t left yet.”

  “Good. There’s been a...development. We need to talk. But not here. I’d like to take a look at your information. Can you meet me after work...say five thirty?”

  She hesitated. Did she dare invite him to her apartment? All of her files were there and he could check out her place. But that meant letting a stranger into her sanctuary. All of her old fears rose to the surface, strapping her tongue down.

  “Dulcie...are you there?”

  That voice. So confident. So deep and sure. She could trust him. She had to.

  “Yes, I’m here. All my files are in my apartment. We can meet there.”

  “Great. I’ll see you at five thirty, and Dulcie...I’m going to need that letter.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I’ll have it.”

  “All right. I’ll see you then.”

  “Umm... Deputy...what should I do? I mean...if there’s been a development maybe I shouldn’t go to work.”

  He was silent for a long moment. “Do exactly what they said to do, Dulcie. Nothing. Mind your own business. Don’t mention the letter, talk to anyone about it or do more research. I’ve got a couple of things to check on before we talk. Then I’ll have a better idea of our next step.”

  Our next step. Dulcie sighed. That tightwire across the Grand Canyon suddenly felt like it had a safety net beneath it. She could do what she needed to do now.

  “I’ll see you at five thirty sharp.” She gave him her address, hung up the phone and reached for the ignition key with only a slight tremor.

  * * *

  Austin parked on the side of the road, far down from Dulcie’s apartment complex. He’d been there for almost twenty minutes watching the road. He wanted to be sure someone wasn’t following Dulcie, so he waited, his fingers drumming on the wheel.

  Dulcie’s small white economy car came around the corner and pulled into the parking lot. Austin waited, his gaze roaming up and down the road, searching for any car that might have followed her. No vehicle stopped or even slowed. After a long while, he turned on the ignition and pulled into the driveway of the complex. Dulcie’s car was parked in a spot marked with her apartment number. It looked like she was still sitting there. Was she waiting for him?

  Probably. Maybe she was more sensible than he first suspected. He pulled into a visitor’s space and climbed out. The night air was crisp. It would be even colder when he left. Autumn had swept into Colorado with an early storm and decided to stay. If winter followed the trend of the last few days, it would be long and cold.

  He pulled out his sherpa-lined jean jacket and folded it over his arm. Dulcie didn’t leave her car until he walked up. Then the door flew open and she slid out in one smooth movement.

  “Did you think I wasn’t coming?”

  “No, I...just didn’t want to go inside by myself.” She looked down, almost as if she was embarrassed to admit she was afraid. She had every right to be frightened and he felt a little guilty about his disregard this morning for the danger she seemed to be facing. Dulcie’s safety was just as important as the integrity of the department. She’d just come to the wrong person for protection. He didn’t feel capable of giving her a fair shake.

  But she had come to him, and he owed her his best effort...and the same kind of honesty she now seemed determined to give him. “I was here early. I parked outside on the street to see if you were followed.”

  She looked up, surprise in her gaze. “Was I?”

  Austin tilted his head. “No. Not from what I could see.”

  She sighed. “I almost wish they had followed me. That would explain how they know so much about my movements.” A small breeze riffled over them like a cold breath and she shivered. “I guess we should go inside.”

  He gestured her forward. She lifted her purse strap higher and paused. It took her a moment, then she straightened her spine and marched ahead. She was determined even though she was afraid. He didn’t know if that was bravery or foolishness. But it made Austin like Dulcie Parker just a little more.

  They took the small elevator up to her apartment. Dulcie scrambled through her large bag, looking for her keys. Just as she reached for the lock, the door across the hall opened and a man with brown hair, glasses and a full garbage bag in hand stepped out.

  “Oh, hi, Dulcie.” His gaze jumped from her to Austin then darted to his shoulder holster and the badge attached to his belt. Then he looked back to Dulcie. “Is everything all right?”

  Her lips parted and to Austin’s amazement, the woman who had no trouble expressing herself was at a loss for words.

  Despite his surprise at her stalled actions, Austin stepped into the silent void for her. “No, no problem at all. Dulcie and I met a few weeks back and decided to grab a pizza some time. Tonight’s the night.” He smiled.

  Dulcie’s neighbor looked at her for confirmation. She nodded. “Joey Delacroix, this is Austin Turner. We met...a few weeks ago like he said.”

  A half smile, half grimace slipped over Delacroix’s features. He looked so disappointed, Austin almost chuckled. Dulcie’s neighbor looked back at him and Austin smiled, the biggest, most self-satisfied grin he could manage. “Nice to meet you.”

  Austin held out his hand. Joey grasped it, then the man looked away quickly. “Yeah...same here. See you later.”

  He gripped the bag and scooted down the hall like he was embarrassed. Puzzled by the encounter, Austin looked at Dulcie for an explanation. But she ducked her head and opened the door.

  Was his arrival interfering with a budding romance? Did this mousey guy, who seemed afraid of his own shadow, know anything about his neighbor? His impression of Dulcie was of a driven woman who took no prisoners and left no one behind in her quest for justice for abused women. Mousey guy didn’t have a chance. Austin didn’t even try to stifle his pleasure at the thought.

  He followed Dulcie inside, oddly pleased. Not that he had...or even wanted a claim on Ms. Parker. He just didn’t think Delacroix should have one either.

  Pushing aside his wayward thoughts, Austin surveyed the room. Dulcie crossed to the kitchen bar and set down her bag. The living room was meticulously clean. Furnished with a serviceable brown sofa and chair with a glass-topped table in between. It looked like standard apartment issue. But Dulcie had added her own splashes of color. Blue-and-green pillows and the same colors in a swath of material above the blinds. A soft, comfy-looking blue beanbag chair rested in one corner of the room beside a small, glass-topped desk. Paper files were stacked on top. Nothing was out of place. It almost felt too organized, too straight and neat...like the woman nervously looking around her home. But to his surprise, Austin found the room welcoming. He could sit on the couch and stay for a while. As much as he loved his own cabin on the mountain, it didn’t have this “get comfortable” feeling.

  He studied Dulcie as she slid out of her coat. “This is nice. You’ve made this small place feel...homey.”

  She sent him a shy, pleased smile. “Thank you. I’m not here much but when I am, I want it to be comfortable, you know? I’m glad somebody else likes it too.”

  She took his hat and coat from him, careful not to let their hands touch, and hung them both on a stand near the door. Austin couldn’t resist teasing her just a little. “Did I just destroy a blossoming romance?”

  “What? Of course not!” The pink tinge that came into her cheeks told him otherwise. Not to mention the fact that she refused to look him in the face. When she finally glanced up, he lifted his eyebrows in a question.

  She sig
hed. “Really. I’ve barely spoken to the man. It’s just...well, he walked me to the elevator this morning and I felt a little thankful. That’s all.”

  Austin chuckled, almost to himself. “If you say so.”

  He lifted the blinds and checked the locks. No marks or spots where the window might have been jimmied. He peeked outside, saw that there was no balcony or a ledge wide enough to crawl along. Then he examined the door frame, searching for evidence of an attempt to pry the door open. At last, he tested the handle and found it sturdy and tight.

  “Can I check the bedroom?”

  “Sure.” She sounded confident but scooted down the hall ahead of him. He didn’t know what she was so nervous about. The bedroom was in the same meticulous order as the living room. Windows secure. Closet doors shut. But he checked inside anyway, just to reassure her.

  “Everything is good, Dulcie. It doesn’t look like anyone even attempted to get inside. Just keep the locks on and do your laundry in some public place. No dark basement rooms until we get this sorted out.”

  She nodded. “I will. Thank you.”

  He headed back down the hall. As he passed the bathroom, a soft scent drifted toward him. Flowery and green like grass or broken leaves. It reminded him of a soft spring evening. He liked it. Was it Dulcie’s perfume or some sort of room deodorizer? If she let him get closer to her than three feet, he might know the answer. But every time they got anywhere near each other, she skittered away like a wild animal. He hesitated just a moment longer, taking in the pleasing aroma, but she halted, three feet behind him. What happened to the “no prisoners taken” woman? Was she only fearless when she was protecting other women and children? Shaking his head, he moved forward.

  Back in the living room, he went straight to the desk. “Are these files your research?”

  “Yes. Take a look while I order us a pizza. Can I get you something first...a soda or a bottle of water?”

  “Yeah. I’d like a soda if you have it.”

  She picked up the cell phone and dialed. While she waited for an answer, she walked to the fridge and came back with a cola. “What kind of pizza?”

  “Anything with meat.”

  He looked at the files on the desk. Each of them was at least an inch thick. She had four full folders. If she had done all of this on her own in such a short time, she was an excellent researcher. He carried the files to the sofa and plopped down. It was as comfortable as it looked. He’d had a long, tense day trying to avoid his lieutenant and keep busy. All he wanted right now was to lean back on Dulcie’s front-room sofa, rest his head on the soft blue pillow and close his eyes. But the files lay heavy in his arms.

  He opened the first and began to read. Name after name. Place after place. Most of the missing women had home addresses on the reservations. Not a good thing since all of those places were out of his jurisdiction. In order to start any kind of investigation, he’d have to ask permission and cross official lines. That by itself would be difficult.

  The doorbell rang. Dulcie, who had taken the chair at the end of the sofa—as far from him as she could get—tensed. She was still frightened and since she was already uptight and determined not to get too close to him, this whole situation was looking bleak.

  Austin shook his head and rose. She hurried after him and stood behind him. Austin took the pizza box from the delivery boy. Dulcie reached around him to hand the college kid a wad of money. Austin shut the door and reached for his wallet. “Here, let me...”

  “Absolutely not. This is my treat. You don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

  Austin studied her downcast features. There it was again. That little tremor of fear in her voice. She must have heard it too, as a wash of pink flushed over her cheeks. She seemed ashamed of her fear, embarrassed by it. She had every reason to be afraid and no reason to be ashamed.

  He handed her the pizza and, with new resolve, went back to the files, searching for a common thread between the missing women. Dulcie brought him a piece of pizza on a paper plate. He reached up and cupped one hand under hers to support the plate. Her soft skin sent a jolt through his fingertips before she jerked away. Had she felt that little electric charge? He looked up into her startled gaze.

  “Sorry. I’m still jumpy.”

  Right...and her nerves were contagious. He was beginning to feel as tense as she acted. How were they going to work together if they made each other feel like cats walking on hot tin roofs?

  He turned away, tried to focus on the files beneath him. It worked. Soon, he was lost in the names, dates and places. Dulcie had already separated the cases by years, three to be exact. Roughly ten women each year, living in different locations, had disappeared. But the staggered dates and locations of the disappearances had perfect precision, as if they were planned out months in advance. These were not crimes of opportunity, but were systematic. Austin’s insides tightened as that truth sank in. These people were smart, powerful and deadly...and he had no clue how to penetrate their web.

  But he was only skimming the files. He had to go deeper.

  “We need to tear these files apart. We need pencils and paper.” After such a long silence, his words startled Dulcie and she dropped her pizza slice onto her lap. She peeled it off and flopped it on the paper plate, but a large spot of red sauce covered her black pant leg.

  “Oh no.” She wiped the stain with a napkin then rose quickly and hurried to the desk. She brought two yellow legal pads and a pile of pencils back to the coffee table. “I’ll be right back. I have to change.”

  Austin nodded, grabbed one pad and jumped back into the first file. By the time she returned, he was deep into dates and barely glanced up when she entered the room. When he did, he almost dropped his pencil.

  She’d changed into a long-sleeved top over stretchy workout pants. There was nothing particularly flattering about the outfit except the color. The purple toned down all the harsh carroty tinge of her freckles and turned her lips to the color of peaches. And her hair... Those orange wisps around her face had disappeared into curls the color of burnished copper that fell in glossy coils well below her shoulders. Brows that had seemed too large and too full now matched the deep brown of her eyes and the dark fire in her hair. She looked wild, barely contained and completely unfathomable.

  He was staring. Knew he was staring but couldn’t stop. Dulcie Parker was beautiful. She looked uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny. He tried to gather his thoughts and felt like he needed to apologize. For what, he didn’t know.

  “I’m sorry,” he said at last. “It’s just you look...so different.”

  “I know. My hair always seems to get lots of unwanted attention. That’s why I usually pull it back.”

  Unwanted. Austin shook his head as understanding sank deep inside him. In one sentence, she’d hit upon the source of their tense relations. “It shouldn’t be unwanted, Dulcie. A beautiful woman shouldn’t be afraid to be beautiful.”

  He didn’t dare look up to see what impact his probably “unwanted” observation might have on her. He was afraid if he looked up, he’d tell her how her hair was like a crown and made everything else fit into place. But he knew she wouldn’t appreciate the compliment so he kept his gaze on the files in front of him.

  “How did things go at work today?”

  “Good.” She cleared her throat. “It went better than I thought. Vonetta’s attending a conference and won’t be back for three days.”

  “No one else asked any questions? Nothing seemed suspicious or out of order?”

  “Not at all. If I hadn’t found that letter under my door, it would have been a perfectly normal day.”

  He nodded and finally dared to look up. “Well, my day was anything but normal. Someone sent an order to my lieutenant suggesting that I stay away from you.”

  Dulcie slumped to the chair at the end of the sofa. “Someone warned you to sta
y away from me?”

  “Yeah, before you even arrived at the station.”

  She stared at him, stunned. “How did they know...” Words seemed to slip away from her and fright built on her features. “Is that why you called me? To let me down easily and tell me you can’t be involved?”

  His lips tilted upward. “Not likely. I don’t take those kinds of orders.”

  Dulcie’s lips parted in what seemed like relief and she swallowed. Her fire-wrapped hair framed her neck, made it appear long, white and incredibly soft. Once again, he felt himself staring.

  She walked to the desk, pulled out another file and handed it to him.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s important. I need you to read it.”

  He opened the file. It was an employment report from Dulcie’s last job in California. A mother came to the shelter with a split lip and bruises, an obvious victim of domestic abuse. But it was her little girls who caught Dulcie’s attention. She’d kept a tight record of their responses. The sisters showed no signs of violence and made no comments. In fact, they refused to speak, shied away from the touch of anyone...just like Dulcie. Obviously, their actions ignited her concerns. When the woman weakened and returned to her husband, Dulcie broke all her counseling boundaries and pushed the mother to the point of harassment. She resorted to waiting outside the woman’s house and following her, begging her to return to the shelter. Eventually, the husband discovered Dulcie’s presence and filed a complaint. Her supervisors had no choice but to let her go.

  Austin looked up. Dulcie watched him with those dark, unfathomable eyes. What was behind that unreadable gaze? What did she want him to say?

  It didn’t really matter what she wanted. He had one very important question. “Did you convince the mother to return?”

  She swallowed again. “No. I heard later that she ended up in the hospital and the father disappeared...with the two little girls. They haven’t been seen since.”

  Austin looked down. Anger rushed through him. Once again he felt that ruthless, vicious rage that he worked so hard to contain. He’d been right. Dulcie Parker wasn’t good for him. Her past, her present—everything about her—ignited his banked rage.