Lisa Gardner: Say Goodbye

With night blanketing the mountain, Rachel declared the crime scene off limits. They would not approach the summit again until a tactical unit had secured the area and placed snipers for ongoing protection. The team should rest. Rachel was off to the hospital; she’d phone the moment she had news on Harold.

Quincy and Rainie retired to the hotel for another night. Mac and Kimberly offered Sal a ride as he was obviously in no shape to drive. Sal climbed into the back behind Kimberly. He sat in silence, his side covered in white gauze, his bloody shirt untucked at his waist.

Every law enforcement agent in the country had now been notified with the few vital statistics they knew about Dinchara. His actions had earned him immediate placement in the FBI’s top ten most wanted list, and even now the powers that be were preparing a press release for the major news networks.

By morning, Dahlonega and the surrounding area would be swarming with every state officer and National Guard unit available. If today had been a horror movie, then tomorrow would be a circus. Times like this, Kimberly simply hoped no one would get hurt.

Personally, Kimberly doubted Dinchara would try to flee the country. She pictured him more as an Eric Rudolph sort-the Olympic Park bomber who had holed up for five years in the Great Smoky Mountains, living on a diet of wild game and acorns. By all accounts, Dinchara had the same outdoor expertise and loner instincts.

Plus, there was still Ginny Jones and the missing boy to consider. Which made her wonder…

Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen, registered the local number, flipped it open. “Special Agent Quincy.”

“Deputy Roy here. We spoke earlier regarding the Jones girl.”

“Oh yes. The Jones girl your department managed to release even after she was an accessory in the attempted murder of a federal agent. I remember.”

Roy chuckled. “Thought you would. Now, technically speaking, it’s the judge you should yell at-”

“I mean to get to that the first moment I’m back in town.”

“I’m sure you will. Listen, Rick and I feel real bad about how that all worked out, especially given what happened on Blood Mountain.”

“Especially.”

“So we did some thinking, and it occurred to Rick that he saw Ginny Jones hugging the man standing next to a vehicle. So he went to the courthouse this afternoon and collected the security video of the parking lot.”

“Yes?”

“And sure enough, the man walks away, but you can see Ginny get into the vehicle. It’s a blue Nissan hatchback, with Georgia plates reading…”

Kimberly grabbed a pen, frantically writing down the information. “Nice work, Officers!”

“’Course we’re issuing an APB, as well. But thought you’d like to hear the news directly. We do more than eat fried okra and shoot possums round here, you know.”

“You shoot possums?”

“Never mind.”

“Thank you. I mean that, Officer. Thank you very much.”

Kimberly hung up the phone. She regarded Mac, then Sal in the rearview mirror.

“Hey,” she said. “I have an idea.”

“We’ve been operating under the assumption that the younger child didn’t accompany Dinchara and Aaron on the hikes, correct?” Kimberly was explaining excitedly, as she directed Mac to Dinchara’s old neighborhood. “Based mostly on the waitress from the Smith House saying that she only ever saw Dinchara with a teenager. Also, a young boy would slow them down when packing supplies up a trail that steep.”

“Okay,” Mac agreed, though it was his first time hearing any of this.

“Well, what if he didn’t leave the boy alone? What if Dinchara had a babysitter to watch the kid? Someone he trusted to ensure the kid didn’t run away?”

“Like Ginny Jones,” Sal filled in from the back.

“Exactly! And maybe that’s why he was willing to spend ten grand springing Ginny from county jail. Because he wanted to come after us-or really, you, Sal-meaning he needed someone to take over childcare.”

“I can follow that logic right up to the moment we turn into his old neighborhood,” Mac murmured, following the direction of Kimberly’s pointing finger onto the rolling rural road of said neighborhood.

“All the way up at the top of the hill,” she instructed him. “’Bout three miles in, last home on the right.”

“Or look for the big pile of smoking rubble,” Mac filled in drily. “Which would be my point: You said the home burned to the ground. So the kid can’t be there.”

“No, but according to the neighbors, neither was Ginny Jones. None of them reported seeing a girl at the house, but she obviously spent a lot of time with Aaron and Dinchara. Which makes me wonder. What if she has a home locally, too?”

“But she works in Sandy Springs,” Sal protested. “We saw her apartment.”

“A cheap one-bedroom,” Kimberly granted, “convenient for the nights she works as a prostitute. But remember what Ginny said-Dinchara’s other line of work is Internet porn, and she and Aaron both filmed movies for him. So there must be times she’s up here, assisting with that business. So why haven’t any of the neighbors seen her? We know she hangs out with Aaron, we believe she babysits the younger kid. She’s gotta have her own place. It’s the only answer. Someplace close would be my guess. Where Dinchara could keep an eye on her. Such as right there. STOP. Wait. Next driveway, then stop.”

Mac lurched the car forward another two hundred yards, to the next property, then pulled over. “What are we looking for?”

“Blue Nissan hatchback. Like the one sitting outside that house with the big covered porch. Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have found Ginny Jones.”

By mutual agreement, Kimberly would wait in the car. Mac and Sal would proceed. She would call for backup. She could tell her very note of cheerful acceptance had Mac suspicious. He kissed her, hard. She grabbed his shoulders and kissed him back.

Sal turned away.

Then Mac and Sal were at the trunk, opening Mac’s locker of supplies, including bulletproof vests, a shotgun, extra ammo.

Kimberly got on the radio, advising Dispatch that they had discovered a vehicle that matched an active APB and were now proceeding with caution. Backup requested, please proceed with discretion. No lights, no sirens. With any luck, Mac and Sal could lure Ginny out, and it would all be over before it even started. They’d arrest the girl, save the child. After the day they’d had, they could use a happy ending.

The men drifted down the street and, soon enough, were swallowed by the gloom.

The man flipped Rita onto her back. She cried out as the motion aggravated her hurt hip. For her troubles, he slapped her. He was tough, this one. Better than the girl. He went through the bulky rolls of her clothes, quickly finding the Colt and yanking it from the waist of her pants.

He straightened, his teeth a flash of white against the shadows. “Arming yourself against me or the boy? Bet you don’t know just how much trouble that kid is. Why, the things that boy has already done…”

He chuckled to himself, as if privy to a joke she’d never understand. Then he lifted her bodily off the floor and stuffed her roughly into sitting position in one of the kitchen chairs. She bit her lip this time to keep from screaming, but the fresh wave of pain made the world spin. She thought she might black out.

He must’ve thought she would, too, because he slapped her again, and that jerked her to attention. She thought she saw a faint movement behind him. A shadow flickering along the wall.

Joseph , she prayed in her mind. Please , Joseph , if there was ever a time to cause a stir…