Dead Aim. Anne Woodard
you.”
“She did?” Maggie studied him warily. “Why would Tina talk about me?”
“I don’t know. I guess she considered you a friend.”
Maggie repressed a quick stab of guilt. She should be used to that by now, too. Guilt was another of those work-related ambiguities she had to live with.
“I liked Tina,” she said, keeping her tone light. “We talked sometimes when I wasn’t busy, or she wasn’t lost in her studies. She never mentioned anything that might have kept her away from class for two weeks.”
But was that because Tina had nothing to share, or because she didn’t dare risk sharing it?
“You say the police looked into it?” She said it casually, careful to keep just the right note of concerned interest in her voice without playing it up too much.
“Yeah.” He frowned at his scarcely eaten sandwich, then shoved the plate away. “They said there was nothing to indicate any problems, that a couple of people besides Grace mentioned a guy she was talking to at the Good Times bar. You know the place?”
Maggie nodded.
“Did Tina ever mention a man? A boyfriend? Somebody she might have gone away with for a couple of weeks?”
Maggie shook her head. “No. I got the impression she was more interested in her studies than in men.”
“That’s my impression, too. I know Mom nagged her about it.” He smiled a little wistfully. “She looks like this quiet little mouse, but from what I’ve seen, she’s got a mind of her own. Always thinking, though it isn’t always easy to tell exactly what she’s thinking.”
I noticed that, too. Maggie didn’t express the thought to Rick.
“Were the police able to identify this guy Tina was seen talking to?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Grace said he looked sort of like Tom Cruise. A young Tom Cruise. Have you seen anyone like that around here?”
Maggie had to smile. “This is a college town. It’s swarming with good-looking, young guys, and more than a couple of them could give Tom Cruise a run for his money in the looks department.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“The police evidently did. Who’d you talk to down at the station?” She made that question sound casual, too.
“An Officer Padilla. He wanted to be helpful, but…” Rick shrugged, clearly frustrated. “I talked to the chief of police, too.”
“You talked to David Bursey?” She jerked upright in her chair, surprised.
“That’s right.” Dornier studied her. “You know him?”
“A little,” she said cautiously.
Damn! She would have to be a hell of a lot more careful if Bursey was taking an interest in Tina’s disappearance.
“He comes in every now and then for coffee,” she said casually, as if it didn’t matter. At least the part about the coffee was one hundred percent truthful. “What’d he say?”
His eyes narrowed angrily. “He said there was nothing to indicate a problem. That Tina had been seen talking to a good-looking guy, then evidently had gone home and packed a small bag and left. He said a lot of college kids did that when the opposite sex was more appealing than their studies.”
“Not Tina.” Maggie knew it, and if Bursey had taken the time to spin that little yarn for Tina’s brother, then he knew it, too. The question was, how much else did the chief of police know? And what was she going to do about it?
“No,” Dornier agreed grimly, “not Tina.”
A sudden stab of…something—longing? Regret? Envy, maybe?—hit Maggie. What would it be like to have a brother who could get so quietly, dangerously angry at even a hint of doubt against you? Who would drop everything and drive eight hundred miles the minute he learned you were in trouble?
She forced the thought away. Life, she’d long ago decided, was what you made of whatever you were handed. Wishing for what you didn’t have was a waste of energy.
“Have you talked to anybody besides the police?” she asked. “And Tina’s roommate. What did you say her name was? Grace? Besides suggesting you talk to me, what did she say?”
Maggie had no intention of revealing just how much she knew about Grace Navarre. What she needed was to know how much Rick Dornier knew, then decide what she was going to do about it.
Even as Rick told Maggie about the people he’d talked to and the little information he’d gathered that day, he wasn’t sure why he was doing it. He’d never been one to spill his guts to strangers…until now.
Maggie Mann made a good sandwich. She had a nice smile and a great body and just looking at her was distracting, but none of that was reason for chewing her ear off about his worries. Especially since she had more questions than he did, and not one answer. And yet, he couldn’t stop talking. After twenty-four hours of nonstop worry, it was a relief to share that worry with someone who was as good a listener as Maggie.
“That’s not much to go on,” she admitted when he’d finished.
“No. But it’s all I have right now.” He glanced at his watch, then pushed his chair back from the table. “And I need to get moving if I’m going to learn any more. The Good Times bar was closed when I went by this afternoon, but they ought to be open by now. I’m hoping somebody there will know who the guy was that Tina was talking to the night she disappeared.”
Maggie was faster onto her feet. “Finish your sandwich. I’ll take you there. I know the people who work there and a lot of the regulars. But I have to call my boss first. Okay?”
He almost refused. Instead, after a moment’s hesitation, he sank back in his chair.
“Thanks. Having you along really might help. I appreciate the offer.”
As she walked away, he found himself leaning forward so he could see around that damned potted plant. She had a graceful, long-legged stride that was real easy to watch, and she wore jeans like they’d been tailored just for her.
He’d always liked women and enjoyed being with them, but there was something about Maggie that stirred his blood in ways that weren’t easy to ignore. And crazy as it seemed, just the thought of having her along made him feel a little more optimistic. He was used to hunting bears, not people, especially not people he cared for. At least Maggie knew Tina and the people at the bar. That was something, anyway.
After a brief word with the guy behind the counter, Maggie disappeared into the back room, and Rick settled back in his chair to wait.
Since he had nothing better to do, he pulled the now-cold cup of coffee to him, then picked up his sandwich. He started to take a bite, but something on the street outside caught his attention. The fine hairs at the back of his neck pricked, warning of danger.
He set the sandwich down and scanned the sidewalk in front of Joe’s. Nothing there but strangers hurrying past, shoulders hunched against the wind and cold. He almost put it down to nerves and weariness and too much time spent in the wilderness looking for grizzlies when he spotted the man standing on the other side of the pedestrian mall.
Unlike the other passersby, the fellow seemed oblivious to the cold. He wore a down vest over a chambray work shirt and well-worn jeans. A Stetson pulled low obscured his features, but Rick recognized him easily.
What he couldn’t figure was why the Fenton’s chief of police should be standing out there in the dark and the cold, studying him like a hunter studying his prey.
Chapter 2
Her call was picked up on the first ring.
“It’s me,” Maggie said.