What Janie Saw(127)

                Another coincidence?

                “You want to meet me since it’s your jurisdiction?”

                Rafe was four minutes from BAA. It would take him at least a half hour to search the zoo and find Janie if she wasn’t responding to her cell.

                “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Rafe said.

                Should he continue to the zoo or head for the deserted farm? Zoo or farm? His every instinct screamed farm.

                Rafe spun his SUV around. He headed down the back roads of Scorpion Ridge and toward the rural areas that housed a few survivalist types, a lot of hippies, a growing number of homesteaders, and, yes, too many drug growers and dealers. He quickly called Candy Riorden.

                “I want you to track Janie’s cell phone. Use Locaid, it should only take a minute.”

                “That will invade her privacy. And it’s illegal. It could cost you—”

                “I’ll take full responsibility. And there are some things more important than my job.”

                It had been a long while since he’d felt that way.

                He called the zoo. No one answered. All he got was a recording about the zoo’s hours, fees and upcoming events. He really didn’t want to bother Katie, so he called Luke.

                “We’re on our way to the hospital again,” Luke said instead of a hello. “This time it’s for real.”

                “Make one phone call for me. Call someone and have them search every nook and cranny of BAA. No one’s heard from or seen Janie in over an hour.”

                Luke was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I’ll call Jasper. He loves the girls like they’re his own children. He’ll know where to look.”

                In the background he heard Katie’s voice, sounding a little frantic. “What’s happening with Janie?”

                Luke had barely disconnected when Candy called him. “She’s out past Mailbox Mesa. She’s moving, though, in a northeast direction. The next marker is Picture Rock.”

                The name was beautiful; the area was not, not anymore. If there’d ever been a rock worth naming the area for, it was long gone. This wasn’t farmland; it was dilapidated mobile-home land. Most of the people who lived here kept big dogs because they wanted to be left alone. Most didn’t combine the words sheriff and helpful in the same sentence. Rafe had been out there more times than he could count. He took a shortcut.

                “I want the name of every resident in a ten-mile radius. Cross-reference the names with any having to do with Derek Chaney’s case.”

                “I’m on it.”

                Justin called. “I’m following a blue Chevrolet,” he reported. “I can only see two people in it. A male and female.”

                “Are they doing anything suspicious? Any chance the female’s Janie?”

                “The female’s driving. Nothing suspicious, but they’re the only ones out here.”

                “They make you?”

                “I just spotted them. I probably have a mile or two before—wait, they just turned off. Mile marker 182. I’m gonna pass it and find a spot off the road to check if they just didn’t want someone behind them.”