Game of Fear (Montgomery Justice #3)(17)

“The snow may be prettier,” Gabe added, a chuckle in his voice, “but it’s tougher to walk on.” He hauled her back to her feet. “You okay?”

She nodded, heat flaring her cheeks. Great. First, they were reduced to talking about the weather, then she almost lands on her butt. Way to impress a guy.

Not that she wanted or needed to. She’d always been better at being the buddy. Professional necessity. The few times she’d tried otherwise . . . well, it hadn’t been pretty. Problem was, Gabe Montgomery could make any woman stupid. She shouldn’t want more than a friend. She didn’t.

Right, Deb. Talk about denial.

A few lights twinkled in the foothills of the mountains to the west and mounds of snow lined the walkways. Winter had come to the Rockies with a vengeance this year.

Oh, Ashley. Where are you?

When they reached the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office, Gabe held the door open for Deb. The renovated glass and metal building held every modern convenience, but it was still a cop shop at its heart.

Gabe waved to the desk jockey in the lobby, who glanced at the clock and raised his brow. “What happened that you’re here at nearly three in the morning? Trouble at the bar?”

“No, Charlie. Sammy’s is all closed up tight. My friend has a personal issue. Is Neil Wexler in tonight?”

Charlie smirked. “When isn’t Wexler here? I swear he sleeps at the station whenever his wife’s out of town.” He signaled the detective’s office. “So, what do you want him for?”

Gabe slid Deb a sidelong glance.

“My sister’s missing,” Deb said, her fear coming back full force.

Charlie’s gaze flashed to Gabe. “Wexler is Homicide.”

The word homicide crumbled something inside her. “Ashley’s missing, not dead.” Deb knew how the stories of missing girls ended. God, she prayed she was wrong. Maybe Ashley had had a brain meltdown and gone with Justin.

“Calm down,” Gabe insisted. “Wexler was my boss while I was in rehab and on desk duty, so he knows me. He might be willing to do what we want him to do.”

His gaze spoke volumes. Don’t mention the BOLO in front of Charlie. Don’t rock the boat.

The phone line lit up, and Charlie answered. After a quick conversation he hung up the receiver and waved them through. “Go on back. Wexler is waiting.”




Deb sat in Wexler’s cramped office, pausing to hear his reaction to her story.

Neil leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I’m sorry, Ms. Lansing. Without some sign of a crime being committed, my hands are tied. Your sister hasn’t been missing long enough to even file a report.”

Gabe tensed. “Deb knows that, Neil, but with the other kid missing, too, it seems like something is up.”

“Yeah, they probably ran away together.”

Deb burst from her chair. “Forget this. You don’t believe me and I don’t have time to mess around. I’m going to Colorado Springs and try the cops there. Maybe they’ll listen to me.”

Wexler pushed away from the desk. “They’re going to say the same thing, but since you both seem so convinced, I’m willing to put out a BOLO on the car. That way, if any cop has a slow night, they can look around for it. Maybe we’ll luck out. What’s the make and model?”

Deb pulled a paper from her jacket pocket and placed it on the desk. “Here’s all the information. Including color, VIN, and license plate number. The student she borrowed it from said there’s a big dent in the right rear passenger door where another kid hit the car in the dorm parking lot. The upperclassmen’s info is on there, too. Address, phone number, that kind of thing.”

“This will help.” Neil took the paper and scanned it. “I’ll put the BOLO out tonight. If you have a picture of your sister, I can include that, too.”

“I have one on my phone. Can I send it to your e-mail?”

“Send me a copy, too,” Gabe said quickly.

After texting the photo, Deb waited while Gabe said good-bye to Wexler. Restless, she walked around his office. A black-and-white flyer on his bulletin board caught her attention. It showed the rear end of a banged-up car covered in snow. The plates read POE.

POE? Like Edgar Allan? Or like Ashley’s game, Point of Entry?

“What’s that?” Deb demanded, pointing to the flyer.

Wexler turned and checked out what she’d indicated. “Besides private, you mean?”

Gabe moved around the desk quickly and pulled the picture down. “Seriously, man, what’s the story with this?”

The agitation in both their voices must have hit home because Neil snatched the paper and ran his gaze over it. “Came in an hour ago. A chopper pilot reported a vehicle in the same vicinity as another accident. One of the rescuers got a photo of the car. Looks like it’s been out there a decade.”

“I’m the pilot who reported that car,” Deb said quietly. “I was doing S and R.”

“Did anyone look inside the vehicle?” Gabe demanded, the words tense and startlingly urgent. “Did they find anything in it?”

Wexler’s head snapped up, obviously thinking the same thing. “What the hell is going on, Montgomery? What do you know about this wreck?”

Gabe grimaced, a strange emotion haunting his expression. “I can’t guarantee it’s the same car, but POE is the license plate of a vehicle that disappeared eight years ago. I’ve seen the information about it in my father’s cold case files. Three teenagers were driving to a math tournament in the mountains. They never made their destination and the car was never found.”