Cole nodded that he understood. Searching his memory, he tried to recall what he’d seen on his schedule from when he’d peeked at it earlier. “I think all we have is routine stuff this afternoon. I need to get down there and talk to those folks, reschedule.” Intending to walk down the lane, he started to move off the porch.
McCoy restrained him with a firm grip on his arm. “Wait, Cole. Let’s have Tess handle it. Can she call your other clients and tell them not to come?”
“She won’t have their numbers with her, but I’ve got them on the schedule I have in the truck.”
McCoy put his phone back to his ear. “Tell Ms. Murphy that we’re going to reschedule clients. Have her wait there and explain it to the ones that arrive. Dr. Walker and I will call the ones we can reach to cancel them.” McCoy disconnected the call. “Let’s get your schedule out of your truck and start calling folks.”
It was the last thing in the world that Cole wanted to do, but at least it would keep him busy, and he didn’t want to have to deal with a pileup of clients at his doorstep right now. “I’ll go get it,” he said, setting off down the sidewalk toward his truck. McCoy went with him.
At his truck, Cole opened the door on the passenger side, spotted his book on the seat, and reached for it. As he raised his eyes, he was able to see out the driver’s side window, and down the lane. Midway down, a rectangle of yellow crime scene tape fluttered lightly in the spring breeze. It snatched his breath away.
Finding his voice, he turned to McCoy. “What . . . what did they find?”
The serious look on the sheriff’s face scared him almost as much as the yellow tape. “There’s evidence of a vehicle turning there in the road that we want to preserve. We might be able to get some tire prints.”
“I’ve got to see it,” Cole said. Plucking his schedule book from the seat, he closed the door and headed around the end of the truck out into the lane.
“Wait, Cole,” McCoy said. “Wait until Deputy Cobb is finished.”
“My scent’s all over this place. Robo knows the difference between Sophie and me.” Cole kept walking.
McCoy matched his pace and went with him. “There’s nothing to see but flattened grass and a few partial tire tracks.”
Cole kept a grim silence, marching down the hard-packed lane until he arrived at the taped-off area. He stayed on the lane, where he knew he’d leave no prints and he wouldn’t disturb the evidence they were trying to preserve. He scanned the ground, searching for dark spots—blood. Not finding any gave him little comfort.
McCoy stood firm and silent beside him. It was as if the sheriff had decided not to waste his breath on pointless reassurance. Cole met his gaze and connected with a fierce empathy in his eyes.
“We’ve got to keep our heads clear and find her, Cole.”
Giving him a brief nod, Cole raised the schedule book slightly and continued down the lane. “I’ll give this to Tess. She’ll take care of the schedule. And then let’s decide what to do.”
Mattie pulled a pair of latex gloves from a pocket on her utility belt and tugged them on. Robo had found a small piece of white paper fluttering at the base of a clump of rabbit brush. It was a memo about a parent-teacher meeting being held on Wednesday evening in two weeks. Sophie must have been bringing it home.
Mattie closed her eyes and conjured an image of Sophie carrying the paper as she walked down the lane. A car pulled up beside her, and someone snatched her inside, kicking and fighting; this scrap of paper floated away on the breeze, scudding along the buffalo grass and finally lighting up against the rabbit brush, where it stayed until Robo found it. She opened her eyes, unable to bear following her imagination into the car or even to consider what might have happened next. Feeling light-headed, she put the paper inside an evidence bag.
Sophie was nowhere to be found. After Mattie cleared the property and gave up on trying to track the suspect car out on the highway, she led Robo over to where Cole stood, holding his cell phone to his ear, beside Sheriff McCoy.
Cole disconnected the call, shaking his head. “That’s the last parent calling back after I left a message,” he said to the sheriff. “She doesn’t have Sophie either.”
Cole’s gaze connected with Mattie’s, and she sensed a panic that was just below the surface. Or perhaps she sensed her own.
“I’ll try Olivia again,” he said, swiping and tapping his phone. With a grim expression, he held the phone to his ear.
“Olivia,” he said after a moment, relief flooding his face. He took a few steps away from the group and turned his back. “Do you have Sophie with you?”
His shoulders slumped, and he turned to shake his head at McCoy. “You’re in Denver?” He walked farther away, speaking quietly into the phone.
Sheriff McCoy beckoned to Mattie with his chin, taking a few steps in the opposite direction. She went with him. “I’ll contact Deputy Brody,” he said, “and we’ll get the Amber Alert out. Detective LoSasso says she can cast the tire prints, and we’ll courier them over to Byers County for comparison.”
“What about calling out the volunteers to search the roads and area around town?”
McCoy gave her a sharp look. “You’re thinking what?”
“I don’t know.” Her heart fluttered, making it hard to take a breath. “What if he released her outside of town? Maybe we could find her.”
“I’ll make the call. We’ll focus on roadways and the county roads into the wilderness area.”
A white sedan stopped at the end of the lane, and when a woman with curly gray hair exited the vehicle, accompanied by a slender girl with shoulder-length blond hair, Mattie recognized who it was. “That’s Mrs. Gibbs and Angela, Dr. Walker’s housekeeper and other daughter,” she said to McCoy.
“Go ahead and explain to them why we have the road blocked. I’ll make the call to activate the volunteers.”
Telling Robo to heel, she struck off toward the newcomers, arriving just behind Cole, who’d ended his conversation with his ex.
“What’s going on, Dad?” Angie was saying. “Why are the police here?”
Cole put his hand out to clasp Angie’s arm, as if he needed to touch her. “When I got home, Sophie wasn’t here,” he said, not wasting time on preparatory comments. “The police are helping me look for her.”
While Mrs. Gibbs put her hand to her throat, Angie scanned the property, her eyes landing on Mattie. “Maybe she’s still at school?”
Mattie shook her head. “She got off the bus here.” Unable to continue, she turned to Cole.
“When I got here,” he said, “she was nowhere to be found.”
“You weren’t here to meet her?” Angela asked, frowning.
“I was running late,” he said, his eyes downcast, and Mattie could tell that he felt terrible about it.
“Dad! I can’t believe you weren’t here to meet the bus.”
“I should have been here,” Mrs. Gibbs said, stress enhancing her accent, “instead of getting me hair done.”
Cole raised his hands. “Passing the blame around won’t change the situation, so let’s skip that part. It looks like someone came into the lane and picked her up. That’s why they have the area taped off.”
Angie seemed to be searching for answers while her eyes swept the property, appearing to avoid the yellow crime scene tape midway down the lane. “Maybe a friend came by to get her.”
“I’ve tried all the friends I know to call, and she’s not with any of them,” Cole said. “Who would you call? Maybe I missed someone.”
The three collaborated on Sophie’s friends and came up with the same group that Cole had already contacted.