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Coop glanced his way, then unfolded a stick of gum and popped it into his mouth. “I know ‘im.” He didn’t elaborate.
“Do you know why he went to Nome?” Ellis asked.
“Nope. Didn’t say.” Coop’s gaze slid away from Ellis to the window as a small plane came in for a landing. Although the runway had been freshly plowed, the plane still skidded sideways before righting itself and coming to a halt.
“Shit,” Coop said and refocused on Ellis. “Your dad flew up there pretty regular-like. Couple times a month at least. Now, ‘scuse me.” He grabbed his anorak and slid back into it. “I have more work to do. Runways aren’t gonna clear themselves.”
“Why does it feel like we’re banging our heads against a brick wall?” Nate muttered as they watched the old pilot climb back into the cab of his truck.
“Because we are. What the fuck is going on here? Nobody wants to say anything.”
“They’re saying a lot,” Damian said from behind them. “You’re just not listening.”
Ellis glanced back at his youngest brother in surprise. “I thought this was all a pointless waste of time.”
“It is. We know Dad is on a bender somewhere. Obi said as much back at The Roadhouse.” Damian took a step closer and Peanut poked her head from the top of his coat. She saw Ellis and squeaked with happiness. They took a moment to make the exchange, and Peanut settled happily into her spot against Ellis’s chest. He’d missed the feel of her there and kissed the soft crest of hair on her head.
“But,” Damian added and re-zipped his jacket. He nodded toward Harold Cooper’s truck. “That guy’s lying. Couldn’t even look you in the eye. He knows precisely what Dad’s been doing in Nome.”
* * *
After another dayon the trail with no signs of human life, Bree had to face the possibility that Ellis was right. Dr. Will wasn’t here. She’d found the spot where his tracker had gone offline on her first day out after leaving Ellis at the clinic in Solitaire. She’d expected to find the plane or at very least signs that there had been a crash.
Nothing.
She’d worked her way out in circles from there, covering miles of barren, rugged terrain, and found more nothing. No sign of a plane crash. No sign of the man she loved like a father.
But Dr. Will had to be out here somewhere.Hadto be. He wouldn’t drop off the face of the earth like this. He wouldn’t leave her.
A knot tightened around her throat and she blinked back a hot surge of tears. She wouldn’t cry out here. The tears would only freeze to her face.
No plane accident.
Okay, so then Dr. Will purposely turned off his plane’s tracker. But why? And where would he go?
She drew a deep breath and let it out in a huff that hung in the air. She wasn’t giving up, but she was losing the meager light of day and the dogs were tired. She’d go back to Solitaire for the night. Check on Ellis. Take care of her dogs. Regroup and rethink her approach.
This wasn’t a search and rescue mission anymore. At least not the kind she’d thought it was. It was a mystery, a game of Clue. She didn’t have all the facts yet to figure out the whos, whats, and whys, but she would. And, when she did, she’d find Dr. Will. Of that, she was certain.
It was full dark by the time she reached Solitaire and a snowstorm was blowing in at her back. It howled behind her, a living beast reaching out for her with claws of ice. The last few miles into town were an exercise in misery. She took care of her dogs, feeding them and checking their feet on autopilot before settling them in the dog yard beside The Roadhouse. They curled up on their nests of hay into furry balls, noses tucked under their tails, and dropped into sleep.
She’d pushed them too hard today.
Pushed herself too hard.
Body aching, she waved a concerned Josie off as she entered The Roadhouse. She didn’t need to be mothered. She needed a hot shower and bed. Food could wait until morning.
But…
One thing couldn’t wait. She had to call her neighbor, Bones, and check on her dogs at home. She wouldn’t be able to sleep if she didn’t.
Groaning, she turned around and went back to the bar. “Josie, can I use your phone?”
“Sure thing, hon.” Josie produced an old rotary phone from under the bar. “No luck out there today?”
“Not yet. Thanks.” She sat down on a stool and dialed her home number. After a handful of rings, she got her machine and hung up.
Dr. Will had bought Bones a cell phone recently, so she tried that next, not really expecting an answer. He didn’t like talking on the phone. Or talking to people in general. Dr. Will once told her he suspected Bones had undiagnosed autism exacerbated by a drinking problem. They’d met a year ago at an AA meeting, and when he found out Bones needed a place to live, he’d asked Bree if she’d be willing to rent out the tiny cabin on her property. She’d been reluctant, but Bones proved to be a quiet tenant and good with the dogs. Before long, she’d hired him on as a part-time employee of Faraway Kennels.
