Fearless Gunfighter. Joanna WayneЧитать онлайн книгу.
She’d only met Jackson Clark once when she’d attended a weeklong seminar he’d conducted in Quantico. He was a giant of a man, intimidating, demanding—a brilliant investigator. He was not known for being easily impressed.
There was no one she’d rather see handle this case.
Roland rolled his chair closer to the desk and drummed the eraser end of a pencil against a closed folder. “The only problem I see is that you seem to be taking this case personally, Sydney. If that has anything to do with the woman you couldn’t save from the Swamp Strangler, you have to let that go and move on.”
“It’s not that.” She couldn’t lie. It was only a matter of time before the truth would come out and she’d risk losing her job if she didn’t level with Roland. “It’s even more personal,” she admitted.
Roland spread his hands palms down on the table. “Keep talking.”
“My sister, Rachel, is missing.” The words tore at her heart and her control. She blinked back a tear and stared at the toes of her black pumps.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Is Rachel the sister who’s an attorney in Houston?”
“Yes. She’s my only sister.” Her only family.
“When did you find out?”
“A few minutes after nine this morning. Connie Ledger, her best friend and a coworker, called when Rachel didn’t show up for work this morning and couldn’t be reached by phone. Connie tried Rachel’s number several times but her attempts resulted in a ‘call cannot be completed’ message.”
Roland’s brows arched. “So basically, you’re saying she didn’t make it into work this morning. There could be a lot of explanations for that.”
“And I wouldn’t be here if that were the case. Rachel took a week’s vacation that started ten days ago on a Friday afternoon. Apparently, no one has heard from her since then.”
Roland straightened, his chin jutting as if he was just clueing in to the fact that this was serious. “And you don’t know where she was vacationing or whom she was with?”
“I know where she was supposed to be. She called me the Friday she left and said she was going to a spa resort near Austin for some R & R.”
“Alone?”
“Yes, but that’s not particularly unusual for Rachel. She’s very independent. Her law firm had just successfully wrapped up a case that she’d worked long hours on for weeks before and during the trial. She sounded exhilarated, but exhausted.”
“I assume you’ve contacted the resort.”
“Yes. Rachel never showed up, nor did she cancel. They tried to reach her to no avail. When I call her number it just says ‘party unavailable.’”
Roland pulled his lips tight across his teeth. “Is she in a relationship?”
“Not currently. She broke up with her boyfriend of four years a little over a month ago. As far as I know, she hasn’t dated anyone since then.”
“I’m sure you’ve talked to her ex.”
“I called Carl this morning. So far, he hasn’t called me back, but Connie reached him earlier. He wasn’t aware Rachel was missing, but offered to meet Connie at Rachel’s apartment to check things out.”
“Did he?”
“No. Connie called the police department instead and an officer met her there. The apartment manager let them in. There was nothing amiss.”
Roland leaned in close, propped his elbows and waited for Sydney to meet his scrutinizing gaze. “I know how alarming this is, but try not to jump to any frightening conclusions before you have all the facts.”
“I’m not assuming anything. I’m not ruling out anything, either. Taking a vacation alone is very much like Rachel. Not returning to work on time is completely foreign to her modus operandi. She is very serious about her work. She’s serious about everything.”
He nodded. “Got it. You’ve got reason to worry. But I’ll have to level with Jackson. It can get sticky working a case you’re personally involved in.”
“I understand, but as part of the investigation team or on my own, I have to get to Texas as soon as possible. I’m prepared to take an emergency leave if necessary and I’ve booked a flight to Houston that leaves here at one.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to do anything less.” He stood and stepped around the corner of his desk. “Even if you’re not officially part of the Bureau’s investigation, I expect you to keep me posted. Call if there’s anything we can do to help.”
“Believe me, I will.”
And with or without Roland’s permission, she’d call on Lane Foster. Best tech geek in the business. If it was in cyberspace, he could find it. She already had a list of requests for him, some she could have done herself if she’d had the time.
Sydney stood and Roland held out his arms for a sympathetic hug that was appreciated though awkward. Roland was normally the strictly business kind of boss.
She gave a final nod, then hurried from the room, closing the door behind her. If her sister was in any kind of trouble, time was of the essence.
No one knew that better than Sydney.
It was a few minutes after seven when Sydney finally made it to the front door of Rachel’s condo. She’d spent most of the three hours since she’d landed renting a car, filling out a missing person’s report at the downtown police precinct and being interviewed by a blunt but hopefully efficient detective. The rest of the time had been spent fighting traffic.
The detective had promised to give the case top priority though she had the distinct impression he wouldn’t, at least not yet. Thankfully, she had Lane behind the scenes.
Her nerves tensed as she rummaged in her oversize travel purse for the key. Her sister had moved into the luxurious high-rise with her long-term boyfriend Carl Upton less than a year ago.
Rachel still loved the apartment but her relationship with Carl had withered and died. He’d moved out last month, and according to Rachel, they’d both moved on. He still hadn’t returned her call from this morning.
Key in hand, Sydney still hesitated. It wasn’t that she was afraid of what she’d find. Connie had assured her that she and the police officer had checked out every square inch of the living quarters.
It was exhaustion, fear and the dread of facing the emptiness that held Sydney back now. She forced herself to turn the key and step inside.
Sydney rolled her luggage out of the doorway and dropped her purse and her briefcase onto the small table in the entryway. The staggering sense of emptiness she’d expected didn’t materialize.
Instead, the space overflowed with Rachel’s aura of warmth. The scent of the many candles she’d burned whenever she was home lingered in the still air.
Everything was meticulously in order, as always. Sydney had missed out on their father’s neat-freak gene but Rachel had it in spades.
Sydney walked through the living area and into the kitchen. Nothing amiss there, either. A check of the refrigerator revealed a few jars of condiments and preserves on the door shelves and very little else.
Anything that would have spoiled while she was at the resort had obviously been tossed. The kitchen trash can was also empty. Rachel was a stickler for details. And the most reliable person Sydney knew.
She would never fail to show up for work without contacting someone.
So where was she now?