“Maybe,” she said. “I’d like to go up with you tomorrow.”
“I planned to go today, but we had to call it off when a child went missing. We found her, thank God. She could have died tonight the way she was dressed. It may be April, but it still gets damn cold in the higher elevations. There’s one more quadrant that needs to be searched. At oh-eight-hundred.” He sipped his coffee.
She thought she might have to do a harder sell, but he seemed amicable to including her. “It bothers me that they waited twenty-four hours before telling campus police, and then the campus police waited until Monday morning before contacting the park service.”
“You and I read the same reports, Ms. Revere. And as I said, college boys can be brainless. But even if my team had been told Saturday night when the boys got back to campus, we couldn’t have gone up there. It was the first big storm of the season, came in earlier than anyone thought. Even me, and I’m pretty good about predicting storms.” He shrugged. “It was a tragedy, and those boys are going to have to live with this for the rest of their lives.”
It was hard for Max to explain her gut, what her instincts said, but she tried. “I think there was something else going on that weekend, something that put Scott in danger. And—” She stopped. What more could she say without treading into conjecture?
“And the only proof you have that the boys are lying is your gut.”
She wanted to say she had more than that, but she couldn’t. “I would call it … circumstantial evidence. The photo. The fact they weren’t close friends. That Arthur Cowan is an expert skier and should have known better about weather conditions, or at a minimum alerted the ranger station the same night Scott disappeared. That they all acted suspicious when I asked questions. Nervous.”
He tilted his head and smiled. “Most college boys would be nervous when a beautiful, intelligent woman questions them.”
She laughed. “I hardly think that was the reason. Certainly not for Arthur Cowan, who was belligerent and threatening. If you need credentials, I can give you references, people in law enforcement and others who can vouch for me.”
“Ms. Revere,” he said, “why are you so far from home? You have no ties to Colorado or Colorado Springs. The Sheldons aren’t longtime family friends, are they?” She shook her head. “So why do you care?”
What did she tell him? That she didn’t know why she’d flown two thousand miles on her own dime to find out what had happened to Scott? That wasn’t completely true. Did she share a half truth? That Adele Sheldon’s letter pulled her heartstrings? Stirred her curiosity? She couldn’t stop thinking about him, or shake the deep belief that she could uncover the truth.
But lying wasn’t something that came natural to her. Too many people in her life had lied—either to her face or by omission. She spoke the truth, but kept it simple.
“My best friend disappeared when we were in college,” she said. “Her body was never found. I know she’s dead, just like my instincts tell me Scott Sheldon is dead. Except with Karen, there was evidence that she’d been murdered.” She paused, wished she had ordered a second glass of wine, but she sent the hostess away with a look ten minutes ago. “Her family still suffers with the unknown. I visit them every year, and the pain—it’s never left. But they still harbor an ounce of hope. That hope is trumped by the pain they feel with her loss—not the loss specifically anymore, but the not knowing. When I heard about this case, when I talked to Adele—I think I can help her find peace. I don’t want her living with the unknown, like Karen’s family. If Adele knows what happened, she can grieve and be there for her daughter.”
Karen’s sister had lived in the shadow of Karen’s disappearance for the past seven years. Laura would have graduated from college last year if her life hadn’t been turned upside down. As it was, she barely graduated from high school, never went to college, was in and out of rehab. Scott’s sister wasn’t Laura, but Max had seen firsthand how the pain of grieving parents forever marked the surviving children.
“Do you have the proper clothes and footwear for a prolonged search?” Chuck asked.
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Be at ranger headquarters by oh-eight-hundred, properly geared up. Like I said, there’s one more grid to search. If Scott’s body is up there, Trixie will find him.”
At the sound of her name, the golden retriever perked her ears up. She stood as her master rose. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“Would you like to stay for dinner?”
“Thank you, but I’m already late getting home. My wife is a patient woman, but I need to get back.”
CHAPTER SIX