Sketch of a Murder

Chapter 32

Chapter 32

0700 hours. Nita looked up from her laptop as Lieutenant Williams slapped his cell phone closed. "Listen folks, we've got a fix. McIntire's Subaru has been found in the Mount Baker Wilderness area at a remote trailhead that's been closed to the public for maintenance for the past two years. Lowry Trailhead. Use your GPS for directions once we're on the road. Let's go."

As the team boiled from the Command Center, Nita stuffed her laptop in its case. She'd slung the case over her shoulder when Daniel stepped into the room and over to the lieutenant. "I'm going, too."

Hands propped on his hips, Williams demanded, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm going with you guys. I want to be part of the search for Dawn." His lips firmed into a stubborn line.

"Son, look..."

"Son?" Nita's disbelieving voice cut across the tension building between the two men. She whirled towards Daniel and hissed, "You're his son?"

Eyes pleading for understanding, he said, "It doesn't change who I am."

"Bullshit. We'll discuss this later."

As she stormed from the room it helped a little when she heard the lieutenant's shocked question-"That's the cop you said you were dating?"

***

She revved her bike up the last steep grade, rear tire spinning on loose gravel, and goosed it into the rutted one-lane dirt track to Lowry Trailhead. Two sawhorses with big red stop signs screwed to them, and manned by local deputies from the sheriff's department, blocked access. She flipped her badge wallet at the men as she maneuvered between the blockades. An ambulance, several local police cruisers, a dog and handler search and rescue team, and a multitude of private vehicles belonging to various law enforcement officers crowded the gravel lot. Someone had built a rock-encircled campfire. A large tin pot of cowboy coffee sat on rocks close to the small blaze.

White plastic, three-foot stakes were stomped into the hard-packed dirt, forming a perimeter around the vehicle. Yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the occasional breeze.

The Malibu braked to a stop behind her. Daniel climbed out of the passenger side. As he headed for the campfire group, Lieutenant Williams caught up to her. "Dawn's as close to him as a sister."

She shrugged. Even though now was not the time to get into a pissing contest about involving civilians, she muttered, "How'd he know about this lead?"

Guilt scrawled across his face. "He called. I had to tell him." Looking up at the encroaching trees, he said in a low voice, "Up until her stepfather and mother were murdered, Dawn lived two houses down from us. She spent as much time at our house as she did at her own. After, well afterward, Dawn still came around." He stared at her.

Her hands swept up in a not-my-business gesture. "As long as he stays out of the way." She moved briskly to the crowd circling the fire. If he felt his son could handle this manhunt that was on him. She wanted to find Dawn, preferably alive.

***

A barely discernible logging road led to the sturdy log cabin. She manhandled her bike through ruts and potholes to the first sign of human presence that she'd seen since she'd driven out of base camp at the trailhead. As the only law enforcement officer on a mode of transportation that could handle these miles of rugged terrain, she'd been assigned to follow the disappearing dirt tracks traced on a forest service map by a ranger. The female sheriff's deputy lithely bounded off the back of the bike when Nita stopped. As backups went, Rona Matterson was all right. No chatter, just business.