North Country(61)

“Right.” One with a record that can taint even the best cop’s approach. “And send me the draft media release as soon as you have it so I can sign off. We need to get as many eyes looking for Holly as possible.” With that, I duck out of the conference room that has turned into CIB’s staging area.

And run smack into Mike.

“Why are you still here?” I groan, even though he only left minutes ago.

“Brad Whitley’s looking for you. He’s waiting out front.”

I let out a second groan, even though I’ve been anticipating this visit. It was only a matter of time before he tried to insert himself into the investigation. “Okay. Thanks.” I march toward the small visitor lobby that’s divided by a secure door and Plexiglas and hit the red button under the desk. Normally that’s Grace’s job, but admin only work weekdays.

So do I … allegedly.

The buzzer sounds, unlocking the door.

“McAllister.” Brad Whitley nods. “Any news yet?”

“None to share.”

“And what do you have so far?” he presses. “What leads?”

“You know I can’t give you specifics. It’s an active investigation.” I choose my words carefully. “We had a lead, but it turned out to be nothing. The investigators are casting a wider net now.”

“Is that what this is?” He throws a hand out toward the empty station, his anger flaring. “An active investigation?”

I remind myself that, above all else, he has a family member missing, and reply calmly, “We’ve had everyone we can spare on the case. We’re working hard.”

“You’re looking into the people who were at the Bale House that night, right?”

“We’re looking for any witnesses at this point, which includes people who were at the Bale House, yes.” But I know where this is going.

“Logan Landry was there.”

People are already talking. “Yes, I’m aware that he was there with his family. I saw him. I also saw him leave early in the night.”

“Not long after Holly, from what I hear. So, where’d he go?”

“Home. But CIB will learn more when they speak to him. ”

“Why haven’t they already been out there!” Brad’s voice booms.

From the corner of my eye, I catch Justin’s head pop up from his computer screen, and the meeting room door creaks open. “We’re focused on gathering critical information from the staff—”

“A week after that dangerous criminal is out and a Whitley is already missing. You’re not naive enough to believe that’s a coincidence, are you?”

“Watch yourself, Brad,” I warn, letting the sharpness slide into my voice.

But he’s not listening. “I told you he’d bring nothing but trouble to this community. Look what happened last weekend. That incident with Holly and his window—”

“Logan had nothing to do with that,” I snap. “Logan could have pressed charges for vandalism, but he declined.”

“And why is that?” Brad throws his arms out in the air, his wing span intimidating. “Maybe he had other plans for her.”

I stare at him with incredulity. “This is your fear talking.” Because it’s clearly not common sense.

A buzz sounds and the door swings open. Terry hangs halfway through, thrusting a hand out. “Hi, I’m Detective Constable Ethan Terry. I’m here investigating Holly’s disappearance. What’s this about an incident involving Holly and Logan Landry’s window?”

Before Brad has an opportunity to share his warped version, I jump in. “My daughter and her friends were having a bonfire on my property, and they decided to trespass onto the Landrys’ property to convince Logan to come outside. They were curious about him. Holly threw a rock at his window, breaking it. The girls went home, and I arranged for the window to be repaired. I witnessed it all. That’s it. That’s the end of the story.”

“So, Logan Landry and Holly knew each other before Friday night?” Terry asks.

“No. They don’t know each other.” I’m done wasting my time here. To Brad, I say, “We have officers canvassing and searching for any clue to Holly’s whereabouts. Every detachment in the region received a BOLO for her, and as soon as the detective constable sends the draft media release for my approval, the public will be informed.” I give Terry a “What are you waiting for?” glare .

As obnoxious as he is, he heeds it. “Don’t you worry, sir. I’m heading out to the Landrys shortly to get answers.”

I stifle my groan as the ass-kissing prick vanishes back behind the Plexiglas and then I return my attention to Brad. “Holly is my daughter’s best friend.” For better or worse. “I promise you, we are doing everything we can to find her.”

My words seem to deflate Brad’s bluster. He sighs heavily and then nods, and in that moment, he doesn’t look like the haughty, weight-throwing bastard anymore. All I see is an eighty-odd-year-old man who’s faced his share of heartache.

“The best place for you right now is with your family,” I say more gently. It’s where I wish I could be, at home and holding Isla tight.

But she’s not even there.

And I guess I’m going to Thanksgiving dinner after all.