“I want them ready and standing by to go at a moment’s notice.”
“Yes, sir.” Then the young man’s eyes clouded with confusion. “To, uh, to do what, sir?”
“I won’t know that until I’ve reconnoitered the area in the chopper. We’ll stay in contact through the police radio, so I suggest you remain here. Use this as your base of operation. Other volunteers may straggle in, and we’ll need every man we can recruit. If I may make a suggestion?”
“Uh, yeah. Sir.”
“I’ve found that dividing my units into smaller groups and appointing group leaders is an efficient way to coordinate men who’ve had less training. But choose those leaders carefully, as they’ll be reporting only to you. Just a suggestion. You may, of course, manage it as you see fit.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Agent Wise.” Begley did an about-face and strode toward the door. Hoot lunged forward to open it for him, then followed him out. As soon as the door closed behind them, they dropped the pretense. “Do you think they bought that bullshit?”
“Difficult to say, sir,” Hoot replied.
“Well, trying to make sense of it will keep them occupied for an hour or so, especially choosing the group leaders. Hopefully by the time they’ve sorted that out, we’ll have rescued Ms. Martin and taken Tierney into custody.” Begley paused. “Crap. You didn’t get to use the phone.”
“Perkins hasn’t paged me. If he’s got something urgent, he’ll contact me that way. In the meantime I’ll keep trying to reach him by cell phone.”
“What do you make of Burton and Wes Hamer having gone missing, Hoot?”
“No idea, sir.”
“I don’t like it. Not a fucking bit.”
Hoot opened the driver’s door. “Where to, sir?”
“The drugstore. That seems to be their hangout. Let’s start looking for them there.” Before getting into the car, Begley looked up at the clear sky. “Never thought I’d say this, but I almost miss the snow. At least when it was snowing I knew where everybody was.”
• • •
Marilee didn’t think it was possible for matters to get worse. She was wrong.
Dora Hamer showed up on her doorstep, looking like an escapee from an insane asylum, dressed only in a bathrobe, the hem of which was wet from dragging through snow. She wore only house slippers. Her bare feet were raw looking and red. Marilee had never seen anyone in such a distraught state.
The instant Marilee opened the door, Dora cried, “Is Scott here?”
“No.”
“Do you know where he is? Please, I beg you. If you know where he is, tell me.”
Marilee reached for her hand and pulled her inside, then ushered her toward the fireplace. “Sit down and tell me what’s happened.”
Dora didn’t sit down, she paced, tearing at her hair while one hand clutched a piece of lined paper. The left margin was ragged, like it had been ripped from a spiral notebook. “What’s that?” Marilee asked.
“A note I found in Scott’s room. A policeman came to the house a while ago.”
“Policeman?”
“One of Dutch’s men, looking for him and Wes,” she said impatiently. “That’s not important. After he left, I looked into Scott’s room to check on him. The room was empty. I found this.” She shook the note at Marilee. “Is it true?” she asked, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’re his lover?”
With no thought of denying it, Marilee answered quietly. “For the past several months.”
Dora stopped ranting and gaped at her. “How could you? What’s wrong with you?”
“Mrs. Hamer, please,” Marilee said gently. She was more concerned about the other woman’s mental state than she was about the accusations sure to be flung at her. Dora appeared on the verge of emotional collapse. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know about my relationship with Scott. But I can’t while you’re screaming at me. Please?”
She motioned toward one of the two chairs in front of the fire, but Dora swatted her hand aside. The blow stung, but Marilee kept her composure, knowing that one of them must. “What does the note say?”