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“Well, Mrs. Williams says the last time she saw her son was on Monday. He checks in with her every couple of days. When she hadn’t heard from him, she swung by his place. The mail in his box has been piling up since Tuesday. She thinks that’s when he went missing. Haley disappeared on Wednesday.”
“You think the two cases are related somehow?”
“It’s been bugging me. That’s why I stayed at the office. To look at some stats. Guess how many missing persons we have in the state so far this year?”
“I don’t know. A hundred?”
“Forty-five. And I’m talking about folks who didn’t turn up after a day or two. In the county, eight. In Laramie, three. Two in the last week.”
“You’ve got my attention. You’re thinking it’s not a coincidence.” Sure didn’t sound like one.
“Yep. I went back through Haley’s file, searching for a connection. Her family mentioned that she’s been taking classes at the Underground Self-Defense school on Third Street for a little less than a year,” Kent said, and Brian’s gut tightened. “Guess where Teddy Williams worked?”
Brian stifled a groan. “As an instructor at USD.”
“Bingo. But that was only his part-time job. Want to know where he worked full-time?”
“You’ve got me hanging in suspense. Where?” Brian asked.
“At Nelson’s gun shop,” Kent said. “They sell premium muzzle-loading gunpowder. How much you want to bet it’s the same brand that was used as the propellant at the Olsens’?”
“I’d venture to guess that’ll be a winning bet. But how many other gun shops carry the stuff?”
“I’ll find out. I’m going over to Nelson’s now to ask some questions. Then I’ll hit up USD.”
“Don’t worry about USD,” Brian said. “I’ll handle it. I know the owner.”
DITCHINGHERTAILhadn’t been easy. The one good thing was now she knew what vehicle to be on the lookout for. A Subaru Forester. But she wasn’t able to get the license plate.
How long had she been followed?
It burned her to the bone that she hadn’t known, and Brian had to be the one to spot the tail.
She lifted the camera and zoomed out for a wide shot of all the men on the field that Seth was stretching alongside. Ten of them. She got close-ups of each and every one.
Two were familiar. The balding guy and the one with dirty blond hair. She’d have to show their pictures to Brian. He might be able to help figure out who they were.
Another truck pulled to the parking lot beside the field. Looked familiar. The door opened and a man jumped out.
Speak of the devil.
Charlie gripped the steering wheel, leaning forward, and stared at Brian.
Smiling, he ran onto the field. Gave a few high-fives, including one to Seth, and started stretching.
What the hell?
For an hour, she sat spellbound and steaming, watching Brian play football with his buddies. With Seth Olsen.
Bitterness welled inside her. She snapped photos of them, having fun together, huddling, tackling one another, extending a hand and helping each other up from the field. What was next? Having a drink together? Dinner?
The scene nauseated her.
Brian had gone on and on, warning her about following Seth. Was this the reason why? So she wouldn’t discover that they were friends?
Why wouldn’t he tell her about this...unless he had something to hide? Was he even seriously investigating Seth? Or merely placating her by letting her think that he was?
No wonder he didn’t think Seth was guilty.
