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"He's right," the sheriff said. "And neighboring counties are of similar size and makeup and have even fewer personnel in their departments than we do."
Nyland said, "What we're saying is, there are a lot of good hiding places in this part of the state, and peace officers are spread thin."
Berry was certain her mother's intention hadn't been to question Deputy Nyland's competency, even by implication, but apparently Nyland was sensitive to criticism.
No one said anything for a moment, then Berry said, "I'm almost positive that Oren's leg was injured in his fall down the stairs. He was practically hopping on one foot when he left."
&
nbsp; "I'm sure you've canvassed medical facilities in the area." Sheriff Drummond looked to his deputy for confirmation.
"Last night, sir, and it continues farther afield as we speak."
"DPS?"
"Last night I sent out a blanket e-mail. DPS, Texas Rangers, municipal police departments. I provided a description of Starks, but, unfortunately, we don't know what he's driving."
"I'm sorry," Berry said. "Maybe I should have followed Oren when he left the house. But at that point I didn't know if Ben was dead or alive. My first priority was to get medical attention for him."
"Understandably," the sheriff said.
Nyland turned to Berry. "Do you have any photos of him?"
"Of Oren? No."
"None were found at his house when it was searched."
"Not a single photograph? That's odd, don't you think?" Caroline asked them collectively.
"This whole thing is odd," the deputy said, almost under his breath. Then, "I'll ask Houston PD to go to that marketing outfit, see if they have a photo of Starks in their employee files. It would help to circulate one." He came to his feet. "Sorry, but I need to excuse myself and get back out there. Sir, you know how to reach me."
"I want to be kept up to speed, Ski. Don't go through the office lines. Call my cell."
"Yes, sir." He nodded in the attorney's direction. "Mr. Carlisle." To Berry and her mother, he doffed an imaginary hat. "Ladies."
Then he walked out. As soon as the door closed behind him, Sheriff Drummond said, "Ski's manner could use some polish, but you couldn't ask for a better man to be conducting this manhunt. His background is--"
He was interrupted by a soft beep. "Excuse me, Tom." Caroline took her cell phone from her handbag. As soon as she looked at the small screen, she shot to her feet. "I was expecting this call. I really should answer."
Without another word, she left the office. Berry stared after her, puzzled by her mother's uncharacteristic rudeness.
"Must be important," the sheriff observed out loud.
Berry echoed, "Must be."
CHAPTER
3
DODGE CURSED THE TOUCH-SCREEN KEYBOARD ON HIS CELL phone, wondering who in the hell had fingers small enough to actually type something on it. "Damn computer geeks," he muttered.
Of course it would help if, at the same time he was trying to peck out his message, he wasn't also driving an unfamiliar car and lighting a cigarette.
Finally he gave up on getting the text typo-free and sent it with only a few misspellings. The important thing was, Caroline would receive the message that he was on his way to Merritt.
He still couldn't quite believe that, after thirty years and counting, Caroline had contacted him. She'd called with a desperate plea for help. For Berry, not for herself. I'm not asking you to help me, Dodge, she had said.
Well, good, he'd said back. Because if she'd asked him for a personal favor, he would have hung up on her. He was certain he would have. Probably. Maybe.
