Page 22 of Glimmer in the Darkness

James took out the trail map of Ayasha that he’d grabbed at the tourism center on his way into town that morning and opened it on the bar. “Where abouts?”

He flicked the paper. “They’re not gonna be on that map. They’re up high, nowhere near the trails.”

James folded the map and put it away, then pulled out his phone and, after opening to a satellite view of the mountain, turned it to face Bart. “Can you point them out here?”

“What am I, a cartographer?” But he slipped on a pair of reading glasses and peered at the screen. A moment passed before he pointed to a spot at the southeast slope of the mountain. “Prob’ly over near here.”

James narrowed the view of the mountain and turned it to face the old man again. He shrugged. “Can’t say for sure.”

“How would you reach them?”

“I stumbled on ’em hiking a few years back, but I only saw ’em from below. I wasn’t about to break my neck climbing.”

“If I were to start at your house—”

“You’d be wasting a lot of time. I live on the north side. And I don’t like trespassers.”

Never mind that James had known Bart Bradley all his life.

“There’s an old logging road”—James adjusted the map—“here. Would that be a good place to start?”

Bart shrugged. “Why you want to find it?”

“Curiosity, I guess.”

Again, the gray eyes found his. “This have something to do with your friend’s missing kid?”

James lowered his voice. “Just a hunch.”

“Seems the cops had the same ’hunch’ back when your sister was taken.”

Just like that. Unlike the rest of the residents in Coventry, Bart didn’t waste any time worrying about people’s feelings. “Vince Pollack asked me about them back then. Told him the same thing I’m telling you. I figure it’ll do you about as much good.”

If Vince had already asked, and already searched, then James was likely wasting his time. But he had to try to help find Ella. And Cassidy might see something that would lead them in the right direction.

Assuming she was recalling the incident correctly. And assuming she wasn’t making up the whole story.

An hour or so later, James followed Detective Cote into an interview room at the rear of the small police department and took a seat at a wide table. Cote settled his substantial girth across from him. “I got plenty to do, but since your sister was the first victim, I’m making time for you.”

“There’s the silver lining.”

Cote almost smiled at that. “What do you need?”

The detective’s question told James that Vince hadn’t reported that Cassidy had contacted him. Otherwise, Cote wouldn’t need an excuse to talk to him. Probably, James would have been invited to the police station earlier than this.

James had come prepared for this meeting with a copy of the local newspaper, which he set on the desk, facing Cote, where Cassidy’s senior picture was displayed alongside a photo of Ella that James knew had been taken right before her fifth birthday, and a photo of Addison, the victim from a month prior. The article, heavily quoted from the man sitting across from him, named Cassidy as the prime suspect.

Cote barely glanced at the article. “What about it?”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” James said. “Just that I’d like to know why you’re so sure Cassidy is guilty.”

“You read the article?”

He had but, though Cote hadn’t been shy about naming the suspect, he hadn’t given any evidence linking the crimes. Even though Vince was taking the lead in the current investigations, Cote had been the lead detective in Hallie’s disappearance. James needed to confirm what Cassidy had told him—that she’d called the police years before and told them what happened. Cote would be more likely to tell him what he needed to know. In many ways, Vince saw James as a little brother, a victim. Someone who needed to be protected. Cote wouldn’t waste a second worrying about James’s feelings.

“It’s a little thin on details,” James said.

“It’s not a courtroom, it’s media. We have to be careful what we share.”