Did you know it would be Metcalf?" Lucas demanded, nearly two hours later as they gathered once more in the conference room.
Samantha shook her head. "If I'd known that, I would have told you."
"What did you know?" His voice was flat, hard. "I knew there'd be another abduction. But you knew that; it was hardly something I had to tell you."
"What else?"
"Again, what you know yourself. The object of this twisted little game is for the good guys to find the victim before his time runs out." Suddenly thoughtful, she said, "Except that in this case he didn't set a time limit, did he? No ransom demand."
"So how long do I have?"
She looked at him, brows lifting. "I'm supposed to know that?"
"Do you?"
Samantha glanced at the silent Jaylene, then looked back at Lucas and said with deliberation, "Is it with all your women, Luke, or just me? I mean, since this is the second time with us, I have to wonder."
His frown deepened. "What're you talking about?"
"I got close once before. Too close, apparently. And just like now, you spent the morning after grilling me about what I knew or didn't know." She paused, then added coolly, "It hurt a lot, last time. This time it's just pissing me off."
"Sam-"
"I don't have to be here, Luke. I don't have to be involved in this investigation. In fact, I'm sure it would be a lot safer and certainly less troublesome if I went back to the carnival, packed up, and asked Leo to leave a few days early. If I went back to minding my own business. I'm here because I was under the impression that I could help. So why on earth would I lie to you about any of this?"
"Because of last time," he snapped.
Jaylene, watching and listening calmly, was highly aware of the precious minutes ticking past. But she was even more aware of he vital need for these two to come to some understanding; at odds with each other, she thought, both were at least somewhat lamstrung. So she watched, and listened, and said nothing.
"Oh, I see." Samantha shook her head with a bitter little smile. It's revenge I'm after. Is that it? Do you really believe I'd stand by ind allow innocent people to die just because you walked out on ne three years ago? Because if that's the case, Luke, then you lever knew me at all."
"I never-" He stopped, then said evenly, "No, that isn't what I believe. What I believe is that you're holding back on us, Sam. The vision that brought you here-"
"Wouldn't help you find Metcalf or the killer even if I told you every single detail. And as I've already said, I don't intend to share any further details of that vision with you. I have my own reasons for that. You just have to believe-trust-that the reasons I have are good ones."
She held his gaze steadily. "You didn't trust me before. Maybe that's why everything went to hell, or maybe that had nothing to do with it. Either way, this time is a bit different. So you have to decide, Luke. Now. Either you trust me, or you don't. If you do, I'm willing to do whatever I can to help you in this investigation. If you don't, I leave. Now."
"I don't like ultimatums, Sam."
"Call it whatever you like. But make up your mind. Because I'm not going through this little song and dance with you, not again."
Before Lucas could reply, Deputy Champion came into the room, his young face haunted. "Nothing," he reported without waiting to be asked. "No sign of the sheriff anywhere. You guys were at his apartment; did you-"
It was Jaylene who said, "No sign of a struggle or a break-in, though your forensics unit is still out there. His car was in its normal spot. Looks like the bed was slept in."
Lucas turned away from Samantha with a somewhat jerky motion, and said, "Maybe not. He'd been sleeping on the couch, according to what he told me."
Jaylene pursed her lips thoughtfully. "His weapon was on the coffee table, so that fits. And there were a hell of a lot of beer bottles in the kitchen garbage can; I'd say he drank a lot last night."
"He's been drinking every night," Lucas said briefly.
Samantha moved to the opposite side of the conference table from him and sat down, mildly offering her opinion. "I wouldn't have said he was the type to drink until he passed out. So maybe he had help."
Somewhat fiercely, Champion said, "The only way anybody could have taken the sheriff was if he was out cold. Otherwise, he would have fought. And kicked ass. Even if he couldn't get to his gun, he's a black belt, for Christ's sake."
Lucas and Jaylene exchanged glances, and he said, "Which makes some kind of drug even more likely. Wyatt's not a small man, and handling a deadweight isn't easy-but it's a hell of a lot easier than struggling with a big man who knows how to use his muscle."
"Maybe the kidnapper had a gun," Samantha suggested.
"Maybe," Lucas agreed. "Probably. Question is, did he use it to control Wyatt?"
The young deputy was impatient. "The CSU will test all the bottles they found at the sheriff's place," he said. "But even if we find out he was drugged, so what? So what if we know this bastard has a gun? It doesn't help us find the sheriff. Why aren't we out looking for him?"
Quietly, Jaylene said, "The chief deputy is calling in everybody even as we speak, Glen. Every car will be out searching for the sheriff, and every other deputy and detective will be out as well.
"But," Lucas finished, "as yet we have no good way of narrowing down the area that has to be searched. This is a big county, remember? With too damned many inaccessible or remote places."
"Then why aren't you doing your thing?" Champion demanded.
"We've sent the original of the note off to Quantico-"
"Not the FBI thing," Champion said, even more impatiently. The other thing. Your thing. Why can't you feel where he is?"
"It isn't that simple," Lucas said after a moment.
"Why not?"
In the same deliberate tone she had used earlier in a much more private conversation, Samantha said, "Because he has to open himself up in order to do that. And right now, he's closed down tight as a drum."
Lucas turned his head to look at her, an expression almost of shock passing briefly over his features. Without another word, he walked out of the room.
Champion looked bewildered. "Did we make him mad? Where's he going?"
Soothingly, Jaylene said, "Probably just out to check with the chief deputy. Don't worry, Glen; we're going to do everything in our power to find your sheriff."
"Well, let's find him before it's too late, huh?" Champion's tone was a bit uneven suddenly; it was obvious he remembered only too well the sight of Lindsay Graham floating lifelessly in her watery tomb.
"We'll do our best," Jaylene told him. "And you can be a big help. We'll have to recheck those inaccessible locations on the list, and especially check out the ones we didn't get to when we were looking for Lindsay. Form up armed search teams like before, each with at least one member who really knows the terrain."
The deputy nodded and, given a task to accomplish, hurried from the room.
When he was gone, Jaylene looked at Samantha with rising brows. "Do you know what you're doing?"
Half under her breath, Samantha muttered, "Christ, I hope so."
Jaylene nodded, a hunch confirmed. "So it is deliberate, the way you're needling Luke. And has little if anything to do with the last time you two tangled, I'm guessing. Something to do with the vision that brought you here to Golden?"
Samantha frowned down at the table, silent. Her hesitation was obvious; just as obvious was the decision she reached, and her continued silence.
Undaunted, Jaylene said, "It's a dangerous tactic, Sam, pushing him."
"I know."
"He has to do this his own way."
"No. Not this time. This time he has to do it my way."
Wyatt Metcalf was new to terror. Personal terror, anyway. He hadn't honestly felt anything close to terror until Lindsay was taken. Now, as angry and ashamed as it made him, he knew he was terrified for himself. Not that he didn't have reason.
There was a fucking guillotine suspended above his head.