Page 94 of The Search

“I wasn’t following you. I was—” He stopped and grinned. “Okay, I’m busted. I’m Henry Smith. Franklin sent me after you when you left the cabin.”

“And who hired Franklin?”

“Galen. Who else?” He glanced over his shoulder. “Could I pull into the service station?”

“The other cars can go around you. This should take only a minute. Call Galen. I want to talk to him.”

He dialed the number and handed her the phone when Galen answered. “Galen, do you know a Henry Smith?”

“Sarah?”

“Henry Smith—do you know him and what does he look like?”

He answered crisply, “Yes. Thirty-something, light brown hair, brown eyes, small scar in the hollow of his throat. If you have any doubts, ask him where he got the scar. It was in San Salvador.”

He did have a small round white scar in the hollow of his throat. “Where did you get that scar?”

“San Salvador, 1994.”

“It’s him. Thanks, Galen.”

“Sarah, what are you doing? Logan called me and—”

“I’m doing my job.” She hung up and handed the phone back to Smith. “Sorry. Actually, I expected one of you to follow me. I don’t take much stock in this threat Logan seems so sure of, but it would have been dumb of me not to be careful.”

“No problem. I’m glad you’re on your guard. But you could have told us you were going to Apache Lake.”

“How did you know I was?”

“Logan. He called Franklin and told him where you were headed.”

She was relieved Logan hadn’t come himself. It seemed he had taken her words seriously. “I’m supposed to meet Sergeant Chavez in the rest stop at the lake. If you’re going to keep an eye on me, stay out of my way and let me do my job.”

He touched his forehead in a casual salute. “You won’t even know I’m around.”

“You don’t have to take it that far.” She turned and moved back toward her car. “Just don’t get in my way.”

“Ms. Patrick? I’m Richard Chavez.” The man in the brown Maricopa Sheriff’s Department uniform got out of the 4x4 Tahoe patrol vehicle as she walked toward him. “It’s good of you to come.” He handed her his badge and photo ID as he glanced at Monty. “Hi, boy, I’ve heard a lot about you. Helen says you’re a wonder dog. Can I pet him?”

“Sure.” She checked the ID, glanced at the corresponding ID in the patrol vehicle, then returned the badge. “But let him stretch his legs first. It’s been a long trip. Go, Monty.”

He bounded out of the jeep and tore around the parking lot.

“He’s a beauty.” Chavez’s admiring gaze followed the dog. “I’ve got a mutt I adopted from the pound. Lots of character, but no one could say she’s any beauty queen. Not that I’d want any other dog.”

“Hey, everyone says mutts are the brightest. And I wish more people adopted from the pounds.” She looked at the forest beyond the rest area. “When were the kids seen last?”

“Three days ago. They came up here camping. Josh Nolden called his father on his cell phone and said they’d be back before midnight. They never showed. We found their campsite about ten miles from here but no sign of them.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Late yesterday we found tire marks just beyond those pines near the lake.”

“You think the car may have gone into the lake?”

“We don’t know. We hope to God not. But the incline is steep along there and the water’s deep. If they went off the bank, they could have skidded right down into the water.”

“Wouldn’t there be tire marks on the incline?”

He shook his head. “Shale.”

“Have you sent out divers?”