The Cold Trail Read online

  J.C. FIELDS

  Copyright © 2018 J.C. Fields

  All rights reserved.

  ~~~~

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted or transferred in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system or device, without the permission in writing by the author

  Any resemblance to actual people and events is purely coincidental.

  This is a work of fiction.

  Paperback-Press

  an imprint of A & S Publishing

  A & S Holmes, Inc.

  Dedication

  For my cousin, Paulette Sanders Edmondson:

  Our time on this earth is short.

  Thank you for spending some of yours reading my books.

  Acknowledgments

  Writing a novel, to the outside observer, would seem to be a solitary endeavor for an author. But, to quote John Donne, “No man is an island.” While placing butt in chair and hands on the keyboard is a one-person operation, the creative phase takes input from others. Conversations over coffee, the written words of faceless newspaper reporters, talking heads on TV, current event feeds on smart-phones, the ever-shrinking Time magazine, and, unfortunately, talk radio. All of these uniquely human activities offer ideas for the observant novelists.

  Once the creative phase is complete in jumps the team. Over the course of four novels this group of individuals has grown. To all, I offer a thank you.

  The members of the Springfield Writers’ Guild continue to inspire constant improvement in my craft.

  Emily Truscott, once again, sliced, diced, and offered advice as my developmental editor. While I do not always agree with her, as a rule, her edits and comments are correct.

  Norma Eaton remains my last line of defense providing proofreading and serving as a beta reader.

  Niki Fowler, a graphic artist extraordinaire, continues to create a thematic atmosphere for my book covers.

  The newest member of the team is Paul J. McSorley. Paul has become the voice of Sean Kruger with his incredible interpretation of all four novels for Audible.com.

  Sharon Kizziah-Holmes, owner of Paperback Press, is stead-fast in her staunch support, and continues to publish my work.

  Last, but not least, my wife Connie. She continues to support my writing while reminding me of life and other activities away from the keyboard.

  Part 1

  Truman State University

  Kirksville, MO

  November 2002

  “He’s creepy.”

  “You’re jealous.”

  “I am not. He’s creepy and weird.”

  Linda Kelly smiled as her friend, Karla Sharp, berated the character of the man she was thinking about dating. “How is he creepy and weird?”

  “He never looks me in the eyes. He’s always staring at my chest.”

  Linda laughed. “He’s a guy. They do that.”

  “Normal guys glance. This guy stares, Linda.” Karla shivered.

  Linda Kelly was an athletic woman just under six feet in height. Currently a junior attending school on a woman’s basketball scholarship, she started every game. During her sophomore year, she broke the school record for points scored in a season. Her long auburn hair, worn in a tightly braided ponytail for games, flowed over her shoulders on this particular evening. Her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief as she teased her best friend. “Maybe you should show him what you have. Then he wouldn’t be curious.”

  Karla flipped her hand against Linda’s arm. “Not in this lifetime.” Pausing for a moment, she continued, “I’m serious, why do you like him? Because he’s rich and good looking?”

  “Maybe.”

  Everything about Karla Sharp was compact compared to her friend. She stood five inches shorter, her brown hair barely touching her shoulders. Karla possessed more curves than her friend, particularly in her chest. A round face and a slightly upturned nose gave her a natural beauty she enhanced with only a touch of makeup. Like her friend, she was a junior; unlike Linda, she was working toward a degree in biology. The previous summer, her application to the University of Missouri’s Veterinary School had been accepted, and she would be attending after her senior year. Her childhood dream of becoming a veterinary was within reach.

  The two friends were walking north off campus toward the downtown area of Kirksville, Missouri, their destination a restaurant where they would meet their other roommate for dinner. April Lane worked downtown at a woman’s boutique shop and planned to join them after she closed the shop.

  “I like him. He’s funny.”

  Karla shook her head. “Funny looking.”

  “Stop it, he is not.”

  “Linda, I’m serious, there is something odd about him.”

  Linda stopped walking and looked at her friend. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

  “No, I’m not. He scares me.” She stopped as well and turned.

  Linda stared hard at Karla. “He scares you? How?”

  Karla shook her head. “I can’t explain. It’s his eyes.”

  Taking a deep breath, Linda sighed. “I haven’t had a real date with him yet, but the way he’s always looking around does seem a bit odd.”

  “Odd is not the word. His eyes are evil.”

  “Oh, Karla, you’re exaggerating.”

  “Am I? Where did you meet him?”

  “He watched practice one day.”

  “Don’t you find that a bit strange?”

  Shaking her head, Linda did not answer right away. “I really didn’t think about it at the time. He was…” She paused. “Cute.”

  Karla rolled her eyes. “Oh, Linda, you’re so naïve.”

  They started walking again, and the conversation drifted from the man to the upcoming women’s basketball season.

  ***

  The conversation was lively, the girls laughing as April told stories about the dress shop. She was a petite woman, large green eyes, light brown hair, a ready smile, and the oldest of the three. She was a senior with plans to graduate in December. Her fiancé was already in St. Louis working as a salesman for a large brewing company after graduating the previous spring. The couple started dating in high school and were preparing to marry in June following her graduation.

  As closing time grew near, the only customers left in the café’s dining room were the three women. Their waitress, after taking their money, left for the evening. The owner busied himself cleaning and preparing the front end for the next day.

  The girls heard a car screech to a halt in front of the restaurant. Within seconds, they saw a tall man with disheveled black hair rush into the dining room. Linda gasped, Karla frowned, and April shook her head.

  Linda looked up as the man approached their table, concern etched on her face. “What are you doing here?”

  Breathless and wide-eyed, he looked straight at Linda. “Your coach had a car accident…” He paused to steady his breathing. “They’ve taken her to the hospital and I’ve been asked to give you a ride.”

  Blinking rapidly as she assimilated the news, Linda suddenly remembered the words of her father from ten years ago. She blinked again, his words cascaded over her. “Linda, darling, there is safety in numbers. If you feel threatened, draw your friends around you.”

  If her coach was injured, Linda had to be by her side. She stood and looked at her friends. “I would feel better if you guys go with me?”

  Without hesitation, both stood to follow Linda and the tall man with the black hair out of the restaurant.

  It was the last time the three women would ever be seen.

  Chapter 2

  Kirksville, MO

  Two Days Later

  With a latex-glo
ved hand, FBI Special Agent Sean Kruger flipped through the diary found sitting on the nightstand in Linda Kelly’s bedroom. Frowning, he angled the book lengthwise toward the light of a window and studied the pages. So far his examination of the missing women’s apartment revealed nothing of value. Except for the diary.

  Allen Boone, an investigator for the Missouri State Highway Patrol’s Division of Drug and Crime Control stood next to him. Where Kruger was tall, slender, and athletic, Boone was short, at one time, a body-builder. Now a bit overweight, he was a year younger than his friend. Both attended the FBI academy together and graduated in the same class. Boone served only briefly with the Bureau before leaving and joining the Missouri State Highway Patrol. He was dressed in jeans and a Patrol windbreaker. Black hair with streaks of gray just above his ears complimented his round face which was currently tilted to the side.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Several pages have been sliced from the middle of the book.”

  “Huh.”

  Opening the book further, he stared at the barely visible remnants of missing pages. “Looks like three were cut.”

  Boone produced a plastic zip-top bag from the pocket of his windbreaker. “Let’s bag it. Maybe we’ll get prints from someone other than the Kelly woman.”

  As Boone inserted the book into the bag, Kruger looked around the room and observed, “Neither of the other roommates’ rooms look disturbed. Someone was in here searching for something. It may point to Linda being the focus of the abduction.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “The pillows.”

  “What about them?”

  “Notice how neat and tidy this room and the bathroom are?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Look at the pillows and the wrinkled bedspread.”

  “Huh, you’re right. Looks like someone sat on it.”

  “Not a towel is out of place in the bathroom. Everything in this room is orderly, except the bed. Linda Kelly’s an athlete with a disciplined mind.” Kruger pointed to the bed and pillows again. “My guess is, she wouldn’t leave the bed that way. If she did sit on it, she would smooth it out and straighten the pillows, almost without thinking about it. Someone else sat there and leafed through this journal. They found what they were looking for and cut the pages out.”

  “It’s a diary, think it’s a guy she might have been dating?”

  “Possibly.” Kruger continued to stare at the bed.

  “One of the local detectives talked to her coach. She didn’t believe Linda was seeing anyone.”

  Looking at Boone, Kruger frowned and remained quiet for a moment. “We won’t find the answer here. Let’s talk to the coach.”

  Boone followed Kruger out of the bedroom.

  As they emerged from the apartment, a local police officer handed Boone a note. After reading it, he handed it to Kruger.

  He studied the piece of paper and looked up. “Looks like we need to talk to a restaurant owner first.”

  Boone nodded. “Yeah.”

  ***

  “When did this occur, Mr. Drake?” Kruger studied the man.

  Glen Drake pursed his lips and rubbed the four-day old whiskers with his left hand, an unlit cigarette in his right. He was the same height as Boone, but skinny. The three men stood in the alley behind the restaurant so Drake could smoke. The man’s hands shook as he tried to light the white stick. His face was lined, and his teeth stained from too many years of smoking. A coughing spell interrupted his first drag, and the man’s entire body convulsed as he hacked. Finally, after twenty seconds, he was able to speak. “About five minutes to nine.”

  Kruger waved the exhaled smoke away. “What happened next?”

  “The girls are regulars. They’re here every Thursday night and sit at the same table. One of them, I believe her name is April, works at the woman’s store across the street. The other two, ‘fraid I don’t know their names, arrive just before April closes the store and joins them.”

  “Do they always stay until closing, Mr. Drake?”

  Boone stood next to Kruger, his arms folded across his broad chest.

  “Yup. April told me their schedules are so hectic, they never see each other except when they have dinner at my café.”

  “So someone came in just before you closed and spoke to the girls?” asked Kruger.

  “That’s what I told you earlier.”

  “Did you get a good look at him?”

  Drake shook his head. “I was cleaning the coffee machine when he came in. By the time I turned around to see who it was, he had his back to me. He had black hair, I did see that.”

  “Did one of the waitresses see him?”

  “I was the only one in the dining room. It was a slow night, and I let the servers go home early. My kitchen staff was in the back cleaning. I went to the storage room for something, I forget why now, and when I came back they were all gone.”

  Kruger studied Drake as the man spoke. “Have you seen this guy before?”

  Drake studied the tip of the burning cigarette. “How the hell should I know, I serve a lot of people in here. Lots of college kids and locals. Since I didn’t see his face...” His statement faded into a shrug.

  The interview lasted ten more minutes with nothing of importance learned. When Boone and Kruger returned to the Highway Patrol car, Boone sat behind the wheel and turned to Kruger in the passenger’s seat. “What do you think?”

  “He’s not involved.”

  Boone nodded and started the car. “I don’t think so either. Where to now?”

  “Let’s talk to Linda’s coach.”

  “Why do you think Linda was the subject of the abduction?”

  “Several reasons. The Lane woman was engaged, and from what I found in Karla Sharp’s room, I don’t think it was about her.”

  “Why?”

  “Uh…” Kruger paused and cleared his throat. “Let’s just say she wasn’t comfortable with men.”

  “Oh.”

  “Kelly is a standout on the basketball team. Her stature as the leading point scorer and the media hype surrounding her recruitment by the WNBA give her a media presence the other two women don’t have. The exposure could have brought undue attention from a dangerous individual.”

  “A stalker?”

  Kruger nodded. “Let’s see what her coach says.”

  ***

  “Linda wasn’t dating anyone, Agent Kruger. She would have told me.”

  “Please call me Sean.”

  “Very well, Sean.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Have you ever been on a sports team?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I swam in college.”

  “Then you know. We spend so much time together, we become like family.”

  Stacy Bell was in her mid-forties, slender and tall enough for her intense blue eyes to be even with Kruger’s. Her blond hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she continued to use a tissue to wipe tears.

  Kruger nodded. He did understand.

  Bell continued, “Linda was a team leader, intelligent and determined to succeed at everything she did.”

  “Did her dedication keep her from dating?”

  “No, she’s had a few boyfriends over the past few years. Nothing serious, just college dating. She told me once that getting serious about a man would have to wait. She didn’t have time for the distraction.”

  “So, she did date?”

  Bell nodded.

  “But, no one at the moment?”

  The coach shook her head.

  “Any strange men hanging out at your practices or games?”

  “No, our practices are closed to the public. Occasionally a student or two will sit and watch if they’re already in the building. Games are another thing. I’m normally concentrating on the play, I don’t see the crowd.”

  Kruger understood and nodded.

  Bell tilted her head, a puzzled look on her face as she remembered something. “There was someone about three
weeks ago in the bleachers during a practice. I forgot about it until just now.”

  Kruger raised an eyebrow. “Male or female?”

  “Male—he had black hair. Didn’t look like a student. Too old.”

  Boone took out a notepad. “Can you describe what he looked like?”

  She shook her head again. “No, I didn’t get a good look. I just noticed him. He wasn’t there long.”

  “Why did you remember it now, Stacy?” Kruger’s eyes narrowed as he kept his attention on the coach.

  “I’m not sure. I thought it unusual, but like I said earlier, if someone is already in the building, they’re free to watch. Wish I could remember more.”

  “Could you check with your other players and see if they can describe the man?”

  “Sure. You think it was him?”

  “Don’t know, but the last person seen with the three women had black hair.”

  Bell’s hand covered her mouth and her eyes grew wide.

  ***

  “Agent Kruger, this is Suzie Green. She may be able to help you.”

  Kruger smiled as Green entered Bell’s office. “Hi, Suzie.”

  “Hello, sir.”

  Boone stood in the corner and watched Kruger interact with the young basketball player. Bell sat behind her desk while Green sat in a chair in front of it. Kruger occupied a similar chair next to Green.

  “Tell us what you saw, Suzie,” Kruger prompted gently.

  The young female stared at the coach, who nodded slightly. She returned her attention to Kruger.

  “Well, we were walking out of the field house after practice.”

  She took a tissue from a box on Bell’s desk and dabbed at her green eyes.

  “Linda was going to help me with a calculus assignment, and we were deciding where to meet.” She paused again with the tissue. “There was a tall man waiting about ten yards outside the door. He fell into step next to Linda, and they started talking.”