Page 34 of Cold as Hell

My hands tighten on the chair arms. “Has he been physically abusive? We’ve been watching for signs. Like Yolanda said, I can’t enforce marriage vows—or interfere in unhappy marriages—but if there’s abuse, that’s grounds.”

“If I saw it, I’d say so. That’s the reason I started being friendlier to Lynn in the first place. I don’t know what’s happening there. I don’t see any signs of physical abuse either, and that’s really the only grounds we can use to get involved. All I can say is that I can’t see her intentionally provoking Grant by staying out all night.”

“But the storm could provide an excuse,” Yolanda says. “She can say it hit, and she had to hole up somewhere, maybe the store.” She shrugs. “No one would know any better. She fell asleep at Thierry’s, and now she needs to find a way to sneak back to the store and come out saying ‘Whoops, I drifted off and lost track of time.’”

I push to my feet. “Whatever has happened, I shouldn’t be sitting here debating possibilities. I need to look for her.”

“Yolanda and I can do that,” Kendra says.

“I spoke to my obstetrician this morning, and I’m still cleared for walking and standing in one-hour stretches. Just no hikes or runs, which are impossible in this weather anyway.” I turn to Yolanda. “Do you want to help? Or stay here and man the station?”

She sighs. “What I want is a snow day, but the sooner we find Lynn in Thierry’s apartment, the sooner everyone can admit I was right.”

This might be the most awkward search I have ever undertaken. We conducted scores in Rockton and already a half dozen in Haven’s Rock. Someone’s reported missing, and we need to look for them. They could turn up in someone’s bed. They could turn up passed out drunk. They could turn up in the forest, having lost their waywhiledrunk. Most situations are resolved so quickly that they never become an actual missing-person case. This is the first time, though, where the most likely answer is that our missing resident is in someone’s bedandreally doesn’t want to be found there. Add in the fun of her husband hovering nearby, feigning disinterest in the search while constantly finding excuses to come close.

I’ve quietly spoken to Dalton and Anders, but I’ve asked them to keep working on storm damage. If Lynn is in someone’s bed, we want this handled with an absolute minimum of embarrassment for her and Grant. Not that I care about Grant—I just care that he could vent that humiliation on her later.

Dalton has given me his skeleton key, and we’re very discreetly using it. Yolanda stands guard outside the building, mostly keeping Grant at bay. Kendra stands guard in the hall. I knock and then enter.

For Thierry’s apartment, I check everywhere, including under the bed. Same goes for a few other bachelors. For guys much lower on my list—like Gunnar and Anders—I only pop open the door, listen for the sound of someone scuttling away, and take a quick look. Yes, I check Anders’s apartment. I have zero expectation of finding Lynn there, but I must to avoid later accusations of bias.

“Nothing,” I say when I come out of Kenny’s apartment, holding shut the door against the wind.

Yolanda shakes her head. “You realize the only person you’d find in there is your sister.”

“I keep hoping,” I say.

Kendra and Yolanda move in to block the wind. Snow swirls about, but it hasn’t reached storm status again yet.

“That’s everyone,” I say. “We have now checked every single guy’s apartment, as well as the general store.”

“Time to panic?” Kendra says.

“I hope not,” I murmur. “Let me talk to Eric first.”

I’m having trouble reaching panic status. My head keeps insisting this is just a misunderstanding. Lynn is safe and holed up somewhere, and the problem with turning this into a full-scale search is that the one who panics could be her.

Exactly how scared of Grant is she?

Scared enough to go into defensive overdrive when she hears we’re all looking for her? Scared enough to set up some kind ofelaborate explanation? Lock herself in a storage area and pretend she’d been there all night? Play possum in the forest, as if she hit her head?

Dalton and I are on the edge of the forest with Storm. We left Anders at the kitchen, and we’re trying to look as if Dalton and I are just taking the dog for a walk.

“No point searching out there,” Dalton says, peering into the woods. “We should still circle the town, in case she went out and happened to choose a spot that hasn’t been covered in snow, but…” His gaze scans the area. There are no spots left bare enough for footprints or scent trails.

“A long shot,” I say, and we head out to make that sweep as we talk. “The only way she’s ending up in the forest is if she lost her way in the snow.”

Or she was dragged in. Drugged and abducted. Like Kendra.

Neither of us says that. Of course, we can’t help thinking it, but we also can’t imagine anyone doing that in the middle of a snowstorm.

“I’d like Kendra, Yolanda, and Will conducting discreet inquiries,” I say. “Asking around to see if anyone’s spotted her. I don’t want to raise the alarm yet. In the meantime, I need to figure out when she disappeared.”

“Who saw her last, where she was, what she was doing.”

I nod. “I know I’m going to push it over an hour on my feet, but I don’t feel right taking a break. This isn’t Kendra, safe in the clinic. We have a missing person. I’ll sit whenever I can, but I need to power through this.”

“Can I come along?” He glances over. “To help, not to nag.”

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