Missing in Blue Mesa Page 7

  “Probably the same way I did—I searched online for your name and hers.”

  “He wasn’t supposed to know my real name.”

  “Maybe Asteria searched your things and found out for him.”

  She lay back down, her head nestled in the hollow of his shoulder. “Maybe.” The idea hurt more than she cared to admit. She had thought Asteria was her friend.

  “That must have been horrible for you, when Madeline disappeared,” he said.

  She had never talked about that time with anyone—mostly because there had never been anyone to talk to—no one who cared enough to ask. “At first I was terrified something terrible had happened to her,” she said. “She was a really sweet little girl, and the two of us had gotten close. But it didn’t take long to realize that everyone was blaming me. After all, I was the kid with no family. I’d already been in trouble with the law.”

  “What about your foster parents?” he asked. “Didn’t they defend you?”

  “When people first started saying I had hurt Madeline, the Littles couldn’t distance themselves from me fast enough. They called my caseworker and insisted I be removed from their home. I was a bad influence on their other children. So I ended up back in a group home. At least, until they sent me to jail.” She shuddered at the memory.

  He caressed her shoulder. “I can’t believe no one thought to look at the mother. So many child abductions are carried out by the noncustodial parent.”

  “They thought they had found their guilty party in me, so they didn’t need to look any closer. They wanted the quick and easy solution, to make a splash in the papers.”

  “But you were exonerated. I don’t understand why Metwater even brought it up.”

  “Because he hates me. And he wants you to doubt me. Sometimes that little seed of doubt it all it takes.” She braced herself, waiting for his answer. Maybe Metwater’s plan had worked. Maybe Ethan—despite the intimacy they had just shared—did have doubts about her innocence or her sanity or her trustworthiness. He wouldn’t be the first.

  “I don’t doubt you,” he said. “And I don’t trust anything Metwater says. Why does he hate you?”

  “Some people would say I’m an easy person to hate.” At least if people didn’t like you, they usually left you alone. Maybe that wasn’t the healthiest way to get through life, but it had worked for her so far.

  “Don’t say that,” he said. “It’s not true.”

  She raised herself up to look down on him. “How do you know? You hardly know me.”

  “I know you’re a survivor. You’re a good mother. You’re smart.”

  He thought she was smart? The idea sent a flutter through her heart and she lay down again, not wanting him to read her agitation in her expression. “Maybe he hates me because he knows I’m right about his brother,” she said. “David did murder Cass.”

  “Or maybe it’s more than that,” Ethan said. “Maybe he thinks you know what his brother was involved in.”

  “I’ve wondered about that. Whatever it was, maybe Daniel was involved, too. Maybe it had something to do with the Russian mob. They ended up killing David, so maybe Daniel is afraid they’ll come after him, too, if word gets out. That would be enough to make him hate me.”

  “I’d love to know what David was doing that worried your sister,” Ethan said.

  “Me, too. I was hoping if I stuck around Metwater’s family long enough I could find out.”

  “We’ll find out,” Ethan said. “But later. Right now we need to find Hunter.”

  The mention of her son was like an arrow to her heart, the pain she had been fighting off for the last hour returning tenfold. She struggled to take a deep breath. She had been strong for so long, but was she really strong enough to get through this? Not alone.

  “Will you stay here with me tonight?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound desperate. If he said no, she wouldn’t beg, no matter how much she wanted to.

  He gathered her close and kissed her forehead. “Just try and make me leave.”

  * * *

  ETHAN WOKE TO gray light in an unfamiliar room, unease heavy in his chest. Then he identified the sound that had woken him—muffled sobbing from the woman beside him.

  Michelle lay on her side, her back to him, curled into herself, the blanket pulled over her head. The choking, wrenching sobs made his chest hurt, and his first instinct was to pretend he didn’t hear and find a way to slip out of bed and escape into the bathroom.

  But that was the coward’s way out, and he wasn’t a coward. So instead, he reached out and pulled her to him, and kissed the top of her head and held her tightly. “I’m right here,” he said. “I won’t leave.”

  “I never cry,” she sobbed, bunching the sheet in her fists. “I hate crying, but I can’t help myself. Hunter—” A fresh wave of tears washed away whatever else she might have said.

  “I can’t even imagine how hard it is,” he said.

  “It’s like someone has cut out part of my heart. I would rather they had hurt me than to have taken him.” She buried her face against him and sobbed until her tears wet his shoulder and his arms ached from holding her trembling body. Lovemaking had breached the barrier between them, but this was a deeper kind of intimacy.

  At last the sobbing subsided. She sat up, wiping at her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “I doubt your job description includes dealing with weeping women.”

  “You might be surprised.” But was that really how she thought of him—as a cop first? Even after the closeness they had shared last night, she still didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust his badge.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” she said.

  “I’ll make coffee.”

  He dressed and moved to the kitchen, where he found the makings for coffee, but not much else. They’d have to stop by the store sometime today and get some food. He was waiting for the coffee to finish dripping through the brewer when his cell phone chimed. He fished the phone out of his pocket and saw he had a text from Carmen. A glance at the clock showed a little past seven. She was up early.

  He was reading the text when Michelle came in, dressed in fresh jeans and a T-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “You look upset.”

  “I just got a text from Carmen. They got the results back from the lab on the sock Eugene found.”

  She clutched the counter and sucked in a deep breath. “What are the results?”

  “I don’t know.” He pocketed the phone. “The commander wants us both at headquarters at eight o’clock.”

  Chapter Seven

  Michelle barely managed to choke down the cup of coffee Ethan handed her. The fact that the Rangers wanted her at their headquarters, to deliver the test results in person, had to be a bad sign, right? She didn’t ask Ethan—she didn’t want him to confirm her suspicions. Neither of them said anything until they were almost to Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, where the Ranger Brigade had their headquarters, and then he reached over and took her hand, surprising her.

  “Whatever the test results, don’t give up hope,” he said.

  She cleared her throat. “Having a baby is all about hope,” she said. “I never had any before I had Hunter.”

  He squeezed her hand. “We’re going to find him.”

  “I know you’ll try.” That was more than anyone else had done for her in years. More, really, than she had done for herself. She had told herself she was hiding out with Daniel Metwater’s group in order to prove Cass didn’t overdose on drugs, but really, living with a reclusive group that didn’t require her to have a job or interact with the rest of society had been a kind of cop-out. Things would have to be different once they found Hunter. She’d have to find a place to live and a job and start to give him the kind of stable, normal life she had always longed for.

  She tho
ught she had calmed down a little by the time they arrived at Ranger Brigade Headquarters, but her heart started racing again when she and Ethan were greeted by no fewer than six of the Rangers, including the commander. “I’m Commander Graham Ellison,” he introduced himself. He had a firm handshake, a stern expression and closely cropped graying hair that made her think of army drill sergeants in the movies.

  “What’s going on, Commander?” Ethan asked.

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Ellison said. He motioned to a rolling chair someone had pulled to the center of the room. “Ms. Munson, sit down, please.”

  She didn’t like the way he ordered her to sit—albeit politely—instead of asking if she would like to sit, but she really didn’t have a choice. She doubted her shaking legs would support her much longer. “Just tell me what the results were of the blood test on Hunter’s sock,” she said as she lowered herself into the chair. “Is it his blood?”

  “It isn’t.” Carmen rolled a chair over to sit beside Michelle. “It wasn’t even human blood. The lab said it’s from an animal—most likely rabbit.”

  “Rabbit?” Had she heard right? Relief flooded her at the knowledge that it wasn’t Hunter’s blood staining the sock, but rabbit? “I don’t understand.”

  “Someone is trying to play games with us,” Commander Ellison said. He moved to stand in front of her, fixing her with the stern gaze she associated with principals and prison guards. “Is it you?”

  “No!” She sought Ethan’s face in the crowd of officers gathered around her. “What are you accusing me of?”

  “Daniel Metwater seems to think you’ve set up some kind of hoax to draw attention to yourself,” the commander said. “If you have, I promise there will be serious consequences.”

  “This isn’t a hoax.” Ethan stepped forward. “Her son is missing and she didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “Metwater is trying to make me look bad in order to divert suspicion from himself,” she said.

  Ellison scowled as if weighing the merits of her claims. She fought not to shrink under his gaze. Ethan believed her, but maybe he was the only one.

  Ethan rested his hand on her shoulder, steadying her. “Michelle isn’t guilty of anything but making an enemy of Daniel Metwater,” he said. “But there is something you need to know.” He looked at her. “It’s bound to come out sooner rather than later, especially if Metwater is talking about it.”

  Yes, Metwater would make sure everyone knew about Madeline Perry. Michelle sighed, then lifted her head and looked the commander in the eye. “When I was sixteen, a child I was babysitting disappeared,” she said. “I was arrested and charged with her murder, after a bloody handkerchief with her blood on it was found in my coat pocket.” She told them the whole story—that the handkerchief was from a nosebleed Madeline had had that morning, about the DA and police chief who wanted to make a name for themselves by closing the case quickly—and about the foster child with no family to speak for her, whom no one would believe because she already had a record for shoplifting an expensive blouse and a necklace from a clothing store she couldn’t afford to shop at.

  “I was in a juvenile facility, awaiting trial, when a family friend spotted Madeline with her mother in Mexico,” she said. “They released me without an apology. I had no one to go to, until Cass’s family heard the story somehow. They took me in, and Cass became the sister I never had. She’s the only reason I ended up with Metwater’s group. Now that he knows I know the truth about Cass’s death, he wants to get rid of me, and he’ll do whatever he can to make that happen.”

  She braced herself for what she was sure would come next—the suspicious looks and halfhearted expressions of sympathy. Instead, Carmen leaned over and took her hand. The other woman—a cop, Michelle reminded herself—had tears in her eyes. “What a nightmare to have to live through,” she said.

  “Thank you for telling us about this,” the commander said. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy. But it could help us. Whoever is responsible for your son’s disappearance may be using this incident from your past to throw suspicion on you or frighten you into silence.”

  “Daniel Metwater has motive and opportunity,” Ethan said.

  “The search of his motor home didn’t turn up any evidence,” Marco said. “And no one we talked to reported ever seeing him with the boy. In fact, no one saw the boy this morning.”

  “There aren’t that many people in the camp,” Carmen said. “If Metwater chose his time right—when people were occupied with chores—it might be possible to avoid seeing anyone.”

  “Or his followers might be reluctant to snitch on their Prophet,” Michael said.

  “I think we need to lean on Andi Matheson,” Ethan said. “She’s closest to Metwater. They practically live together.”

  “Andi is eight months pregnant,” Simon said. “We won’t win any friends if it looks like we’re bullying her.”

  “We won’t bully her,” Michael said. “We’ll simply encourage her to tell the truth about Metwater. We’ll offer her our protection.”

  “She won’t tell you anything,” Simon said, his expression sour. “She thinks Metwater hung the moon and stars.”

  “She may look loyal on the outside, but I think she’s getting a little disillusioned with the Prophet,” Michelle said.

  The others looked at her as if they had momentarily forgotten she was there. “Asteria doesn’t just worship Metwater,” she said. “She’s in love with him. But he doesn’t feel the same way about her. He doesn’t make any secret of sleeping with other women.”

  “We could use that to persuade her to cooperate with us,” Marco said.

  “You don’t have to trick her,” Michelle said. “Just remind her that you’re trying to find Hunter. She loves him and she’s probably worried about him. She won’t want to think Metwater had anything to do with his disappearance, but if she knows anything, her love for Hunter will win out over her infatuation with Metwater, I think.”

  “I’ll go with you to interview her,” Simon said.

  “I want to go, too.” Michelle stood. “I need to get my trunk and some of Hunter’s things I left behind.” She could see Simon was about to object, so she added, “She’ll be more likely to cooperate with you if she sees that I trust you.”

  In the end, Ethan and Simon traveled in one car, while Michelle ended up riding with Carmen. Michelle was more comfortable around the other woman than she had been previously, but she still didn’t completely trust her.

  “Jake says hello,” Carmen said as they headed toward the turnoff for Metwater’s compound. “He has his Fish and Wildlife agents on the lookout for Hunter.”

  Jake Lohmiller, Carmen’s fiancé, was the Fish and Wildlife agent Michelle had tried to scam—and yes, had flirted with—when he first came to the area. Knowing he and Carmen had discussed her made Michelle want to squirm in her seat. “I’m surprised he would want to help me,” she said.

  “He likes strong women. He always said it’s one reason he ended up with me.”

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t try to extort money out of him.”

  Carmen laughed. “It served him right. I still give him a hard time about losing his badge. What kind of cop does that?”

  Michelle wondered if she had slipped into an alternate dimension—one in which the cops were nice, people believed her and she didn’t feel the need to always try to game every situation.

  If only Hunter were here with her, she might even grow to like this version of reality.

  She followed the officers down the trail into camp from the parking lot. Suddenly, the place she had called home for the past few months felt threatening. The people gathered outside the tents and trailers stared openly, but she knew just as many others watched from behind cover. Some of them would be angry, feeling she had betrayed the Family by bringing the police into their lives. M
any would wonder what had happened to Hunter—and if she had anything to do with his disappearance.

  Ethan moved up beside her. “Simon and Carmen and I are going to interview Asteria,” he said. “Will you be okay out here by yourself?”

  “Of course.” She had been looking after herself for more than a decade. She certainly didn’t need a bodyguard. “I’ll wait for you in my tent. I can finish packing up everything.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” He patted her shoulder and, along with the other Rangers, moved toward Metwater’s motor home.

  Michelle headed for the white tent nearest the motor home. Greg had bought it from some hunters in Montrose. After he moved out, she had invited Asteria to live with her, since the senator’s daughter didn’t have a place of her own. Metwater probably claimed the tent belonged to him now. She didn’t care. It wasn’t as if she was ever going to live in it again. Once she and Hunter were together again, she would take her savings and make a fresh start. Maybe she’d go back to school, or start a business. She was smart and resourceful, and she didn’t need anyone else to decide what she should do.

  Ethan and the others had assumed Asteria was in Metwater’s motor home, but she didn’t spend all her time there. Maybe she was in the tent. If so, Michelle would have a chance to talk to her first. She could make her own plea for Asteria’s help in finding Hunter. With a child of her own soon to be born, Asteria would be especially sympathetic to Michelle’s pain. She would want to do whatever she could to help her.

  Michelle quickened her pace. By the time the trio of officers was climbing the steps to Metwater’s motor home, she was pushing back the flap of the white tent.

  Yet again, a sense of unreality shook her. The rugs that had softened the floor and the scarves that had added color to the tent walls had vanished. The cots where she and Asteria had slept were gone, as were the chairs, tables and lamps, Hunter’s crib and the baskets and bins where the women stored extra supplies.