“But we can be certain the vehicle headed west toward town?”
“That’s what I’d say.”
Mattie knew they were in territory outside of proven theory. But they were pinning their hopes on anything that would help them discover Sophie’s location, and that was all that mattered right now.
“I’m gonna walk him farther down the highway,” Jim said before leaving Mattie’s car to do just that.
She rolled up the window.
“We need to head up to talk to Gus Tilley,” Cole said. “He lives west of town.”
“Gus Tilley?”
“I already told Detective LoSasso about how he interacted with Sophie yesterday.” Cole described how Tilley seemed taken with Sophie’s storytelling. “He’s been acting strange lately, like he needs a lot of my time. Yesterday, I even wondered if he was hurting his own animals so he could get my attention.”
“Like Munchausen by proxy? With animals?” Mattie had never heard of it.
“It exists. But I’m not convinced he would hurt one of his animals, and they don’t seem to be afraid of him. Besides, he doesn’t fit the typical profile.”
“Which is?”
“A woman with a small pet, usually a dog.” Cole shrugged. “I don’t mean to stereotype, just quoting the literature.”
“I understand.” Mattie was thinking of what to do next. “Let’s finish up here. Stella and I can drive up to Tilley’s place, and I’ll get his permission to look around with Robo. If Sophie’s there, he’ll find her.”
“I’m going with you.”
That would be going way against protocol. “I can’t agree to let you do that. Let’s see what the sheriff has to say.”
“I’ll drive my own truck, show you the way. I’m going with you.” He’d obviously made up his mind.
“Let’s talk to the sheriff.”
Chapter 19
Sheriff McCoy told Cole that a civilian’s presence at an interrogation was unacceptable, and he wouldn’t allow it in his jurisdiction. Mattie understood Cole’s position, but she was glad the sheriff remained steadfast. They had no idea what they would find at the Tilley place—could be anything from an innocent man to a deranged kidnapper and child killer. Although Cole had proven himself capable of handling a dangerous situation before, she’d never seen him this distressed, and she didn’t want to worry about how he would react or how she would keep him safe.
Sergeant Madsen volunteered to take Banjo and continue the search for Sophie within the city limits. Sheriff McCoy stayed with Cole at his house and called in the crime scene unit from Byers County to photograph and cast the tire track that Jim had found. Mattie plugged Tilley’s address into her GPS unit, and they decided Stella would ride with her while Brody followed in his cruiser as backup.
Once they were on the road toward Tilley’s place, Stella broke the silence. “How are you holding up, Mattie?”
“Worried.” She glanced at the clock on her dashboard: ten o’clock. “We’re about seven hours into it now.”
“This is a strong lead,” Stella said, her syllables clipped. “In a perfect world, we’d find her at this guy’s house, telling him stories.”
The image made Mattie ache with longing. “Yeah.”
“Sheriff McCoy says that Burt Banks is still missing, and he’s going to put out a BOLO on him.”
Now other jurisdictions would be on the lookout for both Merton Heath and Burt Banks. “Good.”
“And the Heath vehicle should have been spotted by now if it’s out on the highway. I’ve asked the sheriff to divert the volunteers toward searching every trailhead and jeep trail around here. Maybe we can find him off road.”
“That’s good thinking.”
“We’re telling the volunteers not to approach him, but to contact us if they find his vehicle. There’s a large group starting tonight, and Rainbow is staying on duty to coordinate.”
Mattie nodded, grateful for the teamwork. Candace might be lost to the community forever, but there was still hope that Sophie could be found alive.
“I was wrong about her,” Stella said.
Mattie was thinking of the girls. “Who?”
“Rainbow.”
“Oh. Yeah?”
“She’s one tough cookie. She’s better at her job than I thought she could be.”
“She’s great at her job,” Mattie said. “Maybe a little unorthodox at times.”
Stella stared out the window. “But, you know, the way she dresses.”
“Hey, she’s allowed to wear civilian clothing the same as you. If she chooses to wear frilly things, that’s her prerogative. And that’s between her and the sheriff, since he’s the one who runs things. Rainbow grew up here; she knows this community, and most of them know her for who she is. She’s a great person to have on our team.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Mattie didn’t want to talk about Rainbow anymore, and she decided to end the exchange. The conversation lapsed, and she shivered, her tight muscles seeking release. She tried to relax but couldn’t.
Tilley’s place was located about ten miles outside of Timber Creek in an area bordering the national forest, where an old Spanish land grant had been subdivided and sold as private properties. A few of the original log buildings, tumbled down and decayed, dotted the development, but many new homes had been built on five- to ten-acre parcels filled with trees, primarily cottonwood, pine, aspen, and spruce. Most of the homes were nothing fancy. Small log cabins, prefab houses, trailers, and doublewides. Sheds and barns marked each household, and either barbed wire, sheep fencing, or wooden fences delineated each boundary.
Mattie turned off the highway onto Soldier Canyon Road, which wound upward into the foothills, and she knew she only had a couple miles to go. It would be slow going, following the hairpin curves that led through the forest. She passed a few houses, scattered here and there. Most had lights still on, but a few were dark for the night.
A mailbox with the address painted on the side marked Gus Tilley’s place. He lived in a one-story log cabin that was still lit from the inside, although Mattie couldn’t see into his home. The view was obscured by some kind of film or substance on the windows. A bright light on a tall pole lit his yard, which had been left natural, covered in short buffalo grass and dotted with evergreen trees. Wooden corrals and a barn sat a short distance from the house, also lit by a glowing light on a pole. Silvery moonlight bathed a small meadow beyond, dotted with shadows and surrounded by forest.
Mattie pulled her SUV into the driveway and parked beside the house. “How do you want to work this?”
Before Stella could answer, Gus Tilley stepped onto the porch, a baseball bat cradled in his arms. A medium-sized brown-and-white dog pushed open the screen door from inside the house and scooted around Tilley to run into the yard. It barked and barked, all the time grinning and wagging its tail.
“Weapon,” Stella warned, though Mattie had already spotted the bat. “Wait ’til Brody parks.”
Taking the radio transmitter from its cradle, Mattie keyed it on and sent a message to Brody. “K-9 One to Chief Unit. Our subject is on his porch, armed with a baseball bat.”
Brody’s headlights lit her SUV as he pulled in behind. “Copy that. I have a visual. I’ll cover. Keep your distance.”
The dog circled their vehicles, barking but looking more like a greeting party than a guard dog.