Without A Trace

“I don’t know what I saw,” he admitted. “Will you just stay behind me?”

“You think Sophie’s—”

“Alive,” he said. “We’ve no reason to think otherwise.”

“Except for the blood we found.”

“A very small amount and could be animal blood, for all we know. Just stay focused. Let’s finish this job.”

They approached the elevator shaft and Rae moved around Tom despite his protests. Her heart thudded when her flashlight beam connected with something on the floor. Tom moved quickly to investigate.

“It’s just a bunch of old clothing,” he said.

Was that relief she heard in his voice? “Are you sure?”

He picked up a metal rod from the floor and prodded the pile. “See?”

No sooner had Rae let out her own relieved breath than a sound brought her up short. She couldn’t identify the direction of the noise. The basement had an echo effect that disoriented her. Why had she insisted on coming down here with Tom? She could have remained outside with the officer and no one would have thought less of her. She hated close places. Hated the dampness even more. Hated the sensation that something or someone lurked in the shadows, just beyond the reach of her flashlight. Rae wasn’t one for allowing her imagination to get the better of her, but this place held too many trapped memories.

Tom called to his deputy. “Billy?”

“Right here, sir.” His voice came from the top of the outside steps.

“You see anything out there?”

“No, sir. Everything’s quiet. What about down there?”

“We’re about to find out,” Tom said.

Rae moved her flashlight beam around the room. Near the entrance, something glinted.

“Tom?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Someone’s down here.”

Icy fingers slid down her back as she gripped the flashlight. She used her other hand to steady her wrist as she vectored in on a silhouette. Human. Tall, lanky with longish hair and a scraggly beard. She thought for a moment her fear had conjured the man, but then she caught the glimmer of his beady eyes before he dropped to the floor and scurried crab-like back into a yawning black hole beside the entrance.

“Did you see—”

Tom swore under his breath as he sprinted across the room, Rae at his heels. She wasn’t about to be left behind.

A metal gate hung open, revealing the dark void into which the man had scuttled.

“What is that place?” she asked on a quavering breath.

Tom knelt to shine his light back into the opening. “Looks to be a crawl space or a tunnel of some sort. I can see some old pipes. Lots of cobwebs, too.”

“You’re not going in there,” Rae said.

“Get Billy down here.”

“Tom, you can’t—”

“Make sure he knows where I’m going.”

She didn’t argue further, but spun on her heel and ran up the steps. She called to the deputy, told him about the tunnel, and by the time he’d followed her back into the basement, Tom had disappeared.

THE CRAWL SPACE went on and on. Tom walked hunched over, occasionally dropping to his hands and knees when the floor and ceiling tightened. He’d never been bothered by close places, but the tunnel unnerved him. It was damp and moldy and he could smell something fetid up ahead. Something that churned his stomach and stiffened his backbone.

Dead rodents, he told himself, but the dark passenger of dread climbed upon his shoulder and whispered bad things in his ear. He shook off the presentiment, reminding himself that Sophie had been missing only a few hours. For all they knew, she was out partying with a friend or lying low someplace to teach her parents a lesson. No reason to believe the worst. They still had plenty of time.

But the clock was ticking and the crawl space seemed endless. After a bit, Tom felt a slight ascension, as if he were heading back up to ground level.

Rae called out to him. His muffled name reverberated through the narrow passage, sending a shiver down his spine even as he took comfort in the sound of her voice. “Just stay put,” he called back to her.

He didn’t know if she’d heard him or not. Surely she wouldn’t try to follow him through the crawl space. He couldn’t worry about that right now, though. He had to follow this thing to the end, had to discover the source of that smell.

He plunged on, eventually arriving at another gated opening. Instead of getting closer to the source of the smell, the odor had faded. He could feel fresh air on his face. The crawl space had led him from the main building back to the old boiler room. Tall windows allowed in enough moonlight so that he could make out the metal grates that would have restricted the flames.

Perching at the edge of the opening, he shone his flashlight into the room before he dropped down to the floor and stood gazing around. The space was littered with discarded food cans, an old mattress and what looked to be a camping stove. Someone had been living there.

He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned just as an emaciated man with a heavy beard leaped out of the crawl space and flung himself at Tom, knocking him off balance. He swore as he scrambled to his feet. Once he regained his equilibrium, he had no trouble fending off the scrawny attacker.

“That’s enough,” Tom said, holding the flailing assailant at bay. Then he pushed him away and the man dropped to the floor, cowering and whimpering.

“I didn’t do nothing. You got no call to hurt me like that.”

“You’re the one who jumped me,” Tom pointed out. “I was just defending myself.”

The man cringed and hid his face.

“Look at me.” Tom trained the flashlight beam on the badge he wore clipped to his belt. “My name’s Tom Brannon. I’m the Nance County sheriff. What are you doing in here? Have you been living in this place?”

The man sat up and scratched a bony arm. “I stay here sometimes when I’m passing through. No law against that, is there?”

“Depends on what you’ve been up to.” Tom flicked the beam around the room. “What’s your name?”

“Marty.”

“You got a last name?”

“Booker.”

“Have you seen anyone else at the Ruins tonight, Marty?”

“Like who?”

“A girl.” Tom had been moving the flashlight around the room, but now he froze the beam on the floor. He used one of the disposable gloves he kept in his pocket to pick up a cell phone in a pink silicone case, gingerly holding it by the edges. “Where did you get this?”

“Found it.”

“Where?”

Marty gave a vague nod toward the door. “Over yonder. Somebody dropped it, I reckon. Finders, keepers.”

The phone wasn’t locked. Tom kept an eye on the man while he scrolled through the contact numbers. Before he had time to get through the list, Rae burst through the door with Billy Navarro behind her.

“We saw a light out here and then we heard voices.” She halted when she saw the stranger shrinking in the shadows. “Who’s he?”

“Says his name’s Marty Booker.” Tom held up the phone. “Do you recognize this?”

Her eyes went wide with shock. “It’s Sophie’s. Where did you find it?”

“It was lying on the floor in plain sight.” He handed the phone to Navarro. The deputy produced a plastic evidence bag, dropped the phone inside and sealed it.

“Lying on the floor in here?” Horror crept into Rae’s tone. “Where did it come from?”

He nodded toward the man in the shadows. “That’s what I’m trying to determine. He says he found it in the main building.”

Rae took a step toward the stranger. “You saw Sophie tonight?” When he didn’t respond, she advanced closer. “You took her phone, so you must have seen her. Where is she? Where is she!?”

The outburst startled even Tom. He had no doubt Rae would have gone for the man’s throat if he hadn’t caught her arm and held her back. She tried to shrug out of his grasp. “Let go of me!”

He held her tighter. “Settle down.”

“But he knows something!”

In all the commotion, Marty Booker shrieked and buried his head in his arms.

Rae was unmoved. “If you’ve hurt my niece in any way, I swear to God I’ll—”

“Just cool it,” Tom warned. “We’re not going to get anything out of him if you keep threatening him like that.”

She jerked away. “Why aren’t you doing anything?”

“I’m trying to do my job if you’d let me.”

“That would be a first!” she shot back.

Okay, truce over, Tom thought. He wouldn’t hold it against her under the circumstances.

Marty Booker took a peek from between folded arms, his gaze darting from Tom to Rae. “I didn’t do anything, I swear it. I would never hurt anyone.”

“But you saw a girl out here tonight,” Tom said.

He hemmed and hawed before he shrugged. “Maybe I saw her.”

“Where?” Rae demanded.

He gave the same vague nod toward the entrance. “I see them over there sometimes, but they don’t see me.”

Tom held up a hand to silence Rae. “Who?”

“Those kids. Him.”

“Him?”

Booker’s eyes lifted to the ceiling as if he were searching for the mural. “Him.”

Tom said to Rae, “Do you have a picture of Sophie?”

She fumbled for her phone and then scrolled through the camera roll.

Tom took the phone and held up the screen so that Booker could see the shot of Sophie. “Did you see this girl tonight?”

He hesitated. “Maybe it was her. I don’t see so well at night.”

“Do you know where she is now?”

“He took her.”

“Who?” Tom pressed.

“Preacher,” he whispered. “Preacher took that girl.”

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