Mean Streak

Chapter 13

 

 

 

Jeff had watched daylight turn into a short-lived dusk. Darkness fell fast.

 

He killed time. He wanted to kill Knight and Grange for not keeping him updated as promised. Instead, he’d sat and watched the wall clock tick away the afternoon without a clue of what was happening beyond the sheriff’s office lobby.

 

As it neared closing time at the clinic in Atlanta, he called the main number.

 

“This is Jeff Surrey. Are the doctors still there?”

 

“Oh my God, Mr. Surrey.” The dulcet tones with which the receptionist had answered gave way to a voice that wavered with emotion. “I’ve left you messages asking if there’s been any word about Dr. Charbonneau. We’ve all been sick with worry. Please tell me she’s all right.”

 

“Let me speak to the doctors, please. Either one.”

 

“Dr. James is standing right here.”

 

He heard the receiver being transferred from hand to hand, then, “Jeff?”

 

“I’m afraid I don’t have much to tell you, Neal. They located Emory’s car early this afternoon. But only her car. That was the last report I got.”

 

“Hold on. I’m gonna put you on speaker. Everybody wants to hear.”

 

Jeff could picture the clinic staff clustered around the desk phone as he related what little he knew. “I looked up that national forest on the Internet. It covers thousands of square miles, most of it mountainous, some of it referred to as ‘wilderness.’ The terrain isn’t for the fainthearted.”

 

“I’ve camped in that area,” the doctor said. “And she’s lost in it? Christ.”

 

“Fortunately, as you know, Emory is very fit and has incredible stamina.”

 

“Isn’t it snowing up there and the temperature well below freezing?”

 

Leave it to Neal James to paint the bleakest picture possible. “Yes, the weather is impeding the search for her.”

 

Several questions were hurled at him at once. He interrupted them. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything else. The deputies haven’t returned, and they haven’t called in. Or if they have they haven’t spoken to me. It’s been hours since they left, and I’m as much in the dark as you are. It’s frustrating as hell.”

 

“Do you want me to drive up there?”

 

The doctor was extending the offer for Emory’s sake, not Jeff’s, and he was glad he had a valid reason to decline it. “There’s nothing you could do. Until I know something conclusive, I’m thinking positive and holding out hope that Emory is all right and simply unable to reach me.”

 

The clinic staff endorsed that view, but their voices were subdued, a few tearful, as they said their good-byes.

 

He then called his office and left a voice message for his secretary, telling her only that he had a family emergency and wouldn’t be in again tomorrow. Just as he disconnected, Knight appeared.

 

When Jeff saw him, his heart skipped. “Emory?”

 

Shaking his head, he said, “The search continues. I’m sorry.”

 

He motioned Jeff to join him, and they took the familiar route through the warren of desks in the large squad room. Grange was seated at Knight’s, a cup of coffee cradled between his hands, which looked red and chapped. His cheeks were ruddy with cold.

 

Jeff took the chair he’d sat in before. “How long have you been back?”

 

“Only long enough to grab some coffee,” Knight said. “You want a cup?”

 

Jeff shook his head, then looked back and forth between the two. “For God’s sake, tell me something. Anything. I’ve been dying here.”

 

Knight scooted aside his coffee mug and picked up a rubber band, which he popped against his fingers. “Sad truth is, Jeff, we don’t know shit about where Emory’s at.”

 

He looked over at Grange, who gave a solemn nod of confirmation.

 

“Her car…?”

 

“Was the only one in a parking area that accesses a scenic overlook and several hiking trails. Those trails branch off every which o’ way, then each one has arteries that go up, down, all around. I wrote down the names of some of the trails. Take a look, see if one sounds familiar.”

 

Jeff took the sheet of paper Knight passed him and read down the list. “They all sound the same. Indian names. Nothing jumps out at me. The trail she took might be here, but… I’m sorry. I just don’t remember.”

 

“Well, all of them were being searched till it got dark. Up to that point there’d been no sign of her.”

 

Jeff let the sheet drift down onto Knight’s desk, then bent his head low and massaged his eye sockets. The two officers gave him several moments to absorb the implications of what they’d told him. Finally he raised his head and dragged his hand down his face. “Her car didn’t provide any clues?”

 

“It was glazed with a thin layer of ice, covered in snow, but otherwise didn’t seem to have been touched since she left it. No tracks around it either, indicating nobody else has been up there since she parked.”

 

“What about inside the car? Any sign of a struggle?” He swallowed. “Foul play?”

 

“That’s the good news. No sign of struggle,” Knight said, smiling at him kindly.

 

“Thank God.”

 

“Looked to us like she parked and walked away on her own. No flat tire. She didn’t leave the key, of course, but after the, uh, crime scene guys—”

 

“Crime scene?”

 

“We’re treating it as such till we know better. Anyway, after they got finished with the car, we checked it out. It started right up. No engine trouble. In the trunk we found the boots she was wearing on Friday and a duffel bag with an ID tag on it.”

 

“A gold leather fleur-de-lis with her business card inside.”

 

Knight nodded.

 

“She has a set of those,” Jeff said.

 

“We brought the duffel to the office here and want you to go through it, see if you notice anything unusual. But we already checked inside and saw nothing but normal stuff. Change of clothes, underwear, toiletries.”

 

“She would have been traveling light. She intended to stay away two nights at the most.”

 

“There was also a laptop in it,” Grange said.

 

“She never goes anywhere without that.”

 

“We can’t crack it without the password. Do you know it?”

 

“Her mom and dad’s names, only backward.”

 

Grange jotted down what he spelled out. “They’re waiting on this.” He got up and disappeared down a hallway, where Jeff supposed personnel would begin exploring the contents of Emory’s computer.

 

“We didn’t find her cell phone.”

 

He came back around to Knight. “She carries it in a fanny pack when she runs. In case…” He paused on the stammer. “In case she has trouble.”

 

“Well, she still hasn’t used it. We checked. And it’s not emitting a signal.”

 

Grange returned and said to Knight, “They’ll let us know.”

 

“Who’ll let you know what?” Jeff asked.

 

Grange was characteristically laconic. “Our computer geeks. They’ll let us know if they find anything useful on her laptop.”

 

Jeff had kept a lid on his frustration for as long as he could. “Meanwhile my wife is still missing. Isn’t anybody actually looking for her?”

 

“Lots of folks are, Jeff. But it’s dark. The roads up there are damn near impassable, but we’ve got officers driving ’em anyway. Snowfall is a lot heavier up there than it is down here. Tomorrow, if the weather clears, we’ll put up a chopper, but the forecast isn’t promising. The search will continue overland, but that’s slow going because of the terrain. If it’s feasible, we’ll get a canine unit to—”

 

“Bloody hell.” He stood up and walked away, grinding his fist into his opposite palm. “‘Tomorrow.’ ‘If.’ ‘Canine unit,’ for chrissake.” He stopped pacing and turned back to them. “Where’s this parking lot? How far from here?”

 

“A piece,” Knight replied.

 

“Oh, that’s helpful.”

 

“Jeff, sit down.”

 

“My ass has grown carbuncles from sitting! I’m going there myself.”

 

“That wouldn’t be too smart.”

 

“Oh, while to you smart means getting the password to Emory’s computer?”

 

Knight sighed. “Criticize our efforts if it makes you feel better, but if you go stumbling around up there, we’d soon need a search party for two people instead of one.”

 

Jeff stood there, rocking back on his heels, fuming. “What about the FBI?”

 

“We could pull ’em in, but they’d be doing what we are.”

 

“Which is precious little.”

 

“Look, Jeff, I know it seems like nothing’s being done, but—”

 

“Goddamn right. That’s exactly what it seems like.”

 

“I understand how frustrating that must be.”

 

“Like hell you do. Has anybody you love ever gone missing?”

 

Properly put down, Knight quietly admitted that he hadn’t experienced that misfortune.

 

“Then don’t pretend to know what I’m feeling right now.”

 

“Okay, I’ll stop with the banalities if you’ll sit down and let us talk through some things with you.”

 

Jeff didn’t comply immediately, but ultimately, realizing the futility of having a temper tantrum, he returned to his seat. “Talk through what things?”

 

“Well,” Knight began, “as I said, it appears that Emory parked and walked away from the car under her own power. No sign of her being assaulted or dragged off, anything like that.”

 

“Which means that she likely had a mishap in the frigging wilderness. She’s still out there while we sit here where it’s nice and cozy and the coffee’s hot.”

 

“Could she have met someone?”

 

“No,” Jeff replied curtly. Then, after a beat, he looked at Grange, who had asked. “Like who?”

 

“There are marathon clubs. Sometimes the runners train as a group.”

 

“Emory trains alone.”

 

“Always?”

 

“Yes. If she’s a member of a club or something, she’s never mentioned it to me. She doesn’t go to meetings or anything like that. Have you checked with any such clubs?”

 

“Maryjo did. None had Emory on their membership roster.”

 

“Then why did you bring it up?”

 

“Double-checking,” Grange said, remaining unflappable. “It’s unlikely, but Maryjo could have missed one.”

 

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