High-Risk Affair

“What about closer to home?” Cale said with a meaningful look at the mother.

Galvez suddenly looked tired. “I just don’t know. My gut’s saying no. Like I said, the family has only been here a few months, but as far as I can tell there’s nothing in their background to point any fingers to the mother. From all accounts, Megan Vance is a devoted mother who’s had a rough road.”

She certainly looked devastated by her son’s disappearance, Cale thought with another glance at the woman on the couch. But he knew outward appearances could sometimes hide rotten insides.

“You said they’ve only been here a few months,” he said. “Where were they before they moved?”

“San Diego.”

“Why the move?”

“Mrs. Vance’s sister lives about a half mile down the road with her husband and four children,” he answered. “Molly and Scott Randall. I gather Mrs. Vance wanted to be closer to family. It would be tough raising two kids by yourself.”

Sometimes the strain of twenty-four-hour single parenting could make even the most seemingly devoted parent crack. Cale had seen it before and he wasn’t willing to rule anything out yet.

“I’m assuming you want to talk to Megan Vance,” Galvez said.

No. He wanted to stay as far as possible from that traumatized-looking woman on the couch. But he knew his job.

“Definitely.”

His partner gave him a careful look. His shoulder ached. Cale wondered how long it would be before everybody stopped looking at him as if he were a big bundle of unstable plastic explosives just waiting for an ignition source.

He returned Gage’s scrutiny with cool regard, and after a moment the other agent nodded.

“You run the mother. I’ll go talk to the crime scene unit and see if they’ve come up with anything,” McKinnon said.

He headed up the stairs and Cale turned toward the mother. Up close, Megan Vance looked even more fragile. Breakable, like an antique pitcher teetering on the edge of a shelf.

She clasped her hands tightly together on her lap, but he could see even that couldn’t still their trembling. Her whole body shook, he saw as he approached. Not constantly, but every few seconds, a shiver would rack her slight frame.

“Mrs. Vance, I’m Special Agent Caleb Davis with the Salt Lake office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I wonder if I could have a minute of your time.”

The woman next to her bristled. She was older and rounder than Megan Vance but shared the same brilliant green eyes. The sister, he guessed. “She’s told you all what happened a million times already. How many times do you people have to put her through this?”

“Molly, it’s all right,” Megan said, her voice quiet but determined. “Will you grab another cup of coffee for me? Agent Davis?”

He shook his head. The sister looked reluctant, but she rose and left them alone.

Megan Vance faced him, her hands tight together and her remarkable eyes filled with raw emotion. For one insane moment, he was stunned and appalled by his urge to gather her close and promise everything would be all right. He shoved it away.

“I’m very sorry about your son, but I can assure you many excellent people will be helping in the search.”

She drew in a slow breath and when she met his gaze, he could see a layer of steel underneath the pain.

“I don’t need platitudes, Agent Davis. I need action. Why is everyone standing around and not out there looking for my son?”

He had to respect her grit. “It’s very important in cases like this not to go racing off in a hundred different directions and run the risk of trampling over your son’s trail. When the sun comes up in an hour or so, you’ll see everybody here jump into action.”

“I can’t stand that he’s out there in the dark somewhere. I need to be out looking for him.”

Despite his best efforts to remain impartial, the emotion in her voice seemed to slither through his defenses.

“I know it’s tough but the best thing you can do for Cameron right now is to help us narrow the direction of our search. Would you mind going over the timeline with me?”

After a moment, she nodded. “I put him to bed as usual at about 9:00 p.m. He was sleeping soundly at ten when I checked on him—I tucked the blanket up so I know for sure he was in bed at that time. I woke at two and went to check on him and he was gone.”

“What woke you?”

She paused slightly. “I had a nightmare.”

“Is that unusual for you?”

“Not really.”

“And do you usually check your children when you wake from a bad dream in the middle of the night?”

He hadn’t meant to make his questions sound like an interrogation, but her mouth tightened.

“Look, Agent Davis, I know the drill here. I’ve watched enough television to know you have to consider me a suspect. I have no problem with that. None whatsoever. Take my DNA, my fingerprints, whatever. I’ll take a lie detector test or anything else you want. But please hurry, so you can quickly rule me out and focus on finding my son.”

Chapter 2

6:32 a.m.

He was in serious trouble.

Cameron hit the glow on his watch and groaned at the time. His mom was going to have a total cow. Most mornings she got up early to work in her office before he and Hailey woke up. If she checked on him like she usually did, by now she had probably found the stupid wadded blankets he thought had been such a great idea.

It seemed like such a baby thing to do now, something even Hailey could come up with.

If she had checked on him like usual, she must have figured out he was gone. He felt sick to his stomach just thinking about how worried she must be. She totally freaked out if he even walked an aisle away from her at the grocery store.

Had she called the police? Gosh, he hoped so. He thought of that terrible scream and the thud of a body falling and shivered in the cool, damp air, wishing he had the new jacket he’d taken off inside the entrance.

He had been lost in the maze of tunnels for more than four hours, and he had to admit that he was starting to get a little nervous about finding his way out again.

Like an idiot, he had gone way too far into the mine after that gunshot. He had just wanted to escape that ugly scene. By now, he was so turned around he didn’t know which way he’d come.

None of this seemed familiar. These tunnels were more narrow, barely wide enough for him to get through in spots.

He had tried to backtrack but was now more confused than ever.

His night vision goggles were worthless in here with no light to draw on, so he had abandoned them a ways back and pulled his flashlight out of his bag.

He wasn’t completely unprepared. He might have made mistakes, but at least he hadn’t been that stupid. After he first found the mine entrance a few weeks earlier, he had checked out a book on spelunking from the library, slipping it between a book on soccer and a middle reader mystery so his mom wouldn’t see it and suspect anything.

The book said to always wear a helmet for head protection when exploring underground places. A caver could bump his head on a low ceiling if he wasn’t careful.