Stolen(24)
“Rhonda’s desk sergeant at District 2,” Hatcher clarified for her benefit and for Spense’s.
“Per Rhonda, a call came in to Dillon and Dillon relayed to Piney Trails. Piney Trails relayed to District 2.” He was panting now. “Hiker. Up in the mountains. Near—get this—Frank’s Cabin.”
“Frank’s Cabin?” Hatcher’s hands flew up to his wiry hair.
“You heard me right.”
Caitlin wasn’t sure but if she had to guess . . .
“Thirteen years ago Angelina’s body was found in the mountains near a cabin. That would be Frank’s Cabin?” Spense asked.
Hatcher was on his feet. “Same.”
The stocky detective let out a long wheeze.
“Take a breath, Cliff. Then get on with it.” Hatcher pinned him with a commanding look.
“Road from Dillon to the Angel Rock trailhead is officially closed, but this dude, he hiked up anyway. Photographer looking for what he called Magic Mike. Magic light . . . magic hour? I don’t remember what kind of magic.”
“That part’s not important,” Hatcher answered.
Cliff took a puff off a red inhaler he’d pulled from his pocket. “Right. He planned to stay the night at Frank’s Cabin, but when he got there, he heard noise. Saw a flash out the back door. Somebody small, he thinks a female. Running—maybe limping a little. He considered giving chase, but didn’t see a reason, until he got inside, and by then it was too late.”
To Caitlin’s way of thinking, Cliff should’ve started his story with that reason inside the cabin. But he was flustered enough already, so she tried to be patient while he got on with it.
“Blood all over the place.”
Finally, the punch line.
“And a green dress.”
“When did the call come in?” Spense asked. He and Caitlin had both gotten to their feet as well. Everyone huddled in a rapt circle around Cliff.
“Now. It came in just now. Rhonda, she said she knew right away we’d want to hear about it. Guy called from his cell as soon as he got signal. He’s on his way out, but he’s gotta finish hiking down. You want he should wait in Dillon or come here?”
“Take Frampton and meet the photographer in Dillon. Get his statement. Then check in. Our honored guests, here, will come with me, up to the cabin. And, Cliff, get a park ranger and a couple of techs, maybe some uniforms, to meet us at the road. Hopefully it’s passable and we won’t have to hike up it ourselves. That all you got?”
“Blood, a green dress, and a witness ain’t enough?” Cliff asked. “You’re just like the wife—never satisfied. What more do you want, conjugal rights?”
“Long as I get to be on top,” Hatcher shot back. “And you’re right, I won’t be satisfied with anything short of finding Laura Chaucer alive and getting her home to her family. And this time, I intend to nail the bastard responsible.” He jerked a gaze around the circle. “Anyone needs to powder his nose better hurry. We’re going on a field trip and the bus leaves in five.”
Chapter 12
Thursday, October 24
1:48 P.M.
Task force headquarters
Highlands Hotel
Denver, Colorado
Caitlin finished drying her hands and glanced in the mirror. Touching her cracked lips with her index finger, she remembered the Chapstick in her purse and wished she’d brought it with her into the bathroom. Her hair was a mess. She dragged her fingers through the tangled waves and tucked them behind her ears.
A door creaked.
She let out an involuntary gasp as she whipped around to confront the man whose image suddenly loomed in the mirror behind her.
“You startled me,” she said to Grady. “Last I heard, knocking before entering a restroom was standard operating procedure.”
He gave her a superior look. “I knew it was you in here. I watched you down a full liter of water during my interview. The way you kept looking toward the bathroom, I surmised you’d be headed here within minutes of concluding the questioning. However, it took you long enough. Cliff’s news must’ve been compelling indeed.”
She doubted Grady and Cliff had been introduced. If he knew the detective’s name, most likely he’d been eavesdropping on their conversation after leaving the interview room. This took bad manners to a whole new level—almost a criminal one. “Why ask when you were obviously listening through the door while lying in wait to accost me in the bathroom?”
“Accost is a strong word. And hardly fair since I waited until I heard the toilet flush and the water running. I knew you’d be decent when I walked in.”