Chapter Eleven
Utah appeared in the yard of the Dennison home, nausea immediately assailing him.
It took him a moment to gather the strength to move closer. Odd how he didn’t seem to need that strength when in Michelle’s presence.
He took a step toward a group of deputies conversing next to a patrol car, only to stagger back when the predictable screams of his past came rushing to the surface once again.
Utah gripped the sides of his head, his teeth clenched together in pain. The screams always came.
It took several minutes of concentration to calm the sounds enough for him to approach the worried deputies.
“There’s blood on the coffee table,” one of the officers pointed out. “Susan is inconsolable.”
Another deputy ran a hand down his face. “Wouldn’t you be? I can’t even imagine how I would react to coming home and finding my daughter missing.”
Headlights came speeding up the drive at a fast pace. The car slid to a stop behind the gathered deputies. A man jumped out and practically ran toward the house.
Utah recognized him as the sheriff, Josiah Dennison. He followed Josiah onto the porch.
“Susan?” the sheriff growled, barreling his way through the throng of people to get to his ex-wife.
Susan’s eyes were red and swollen, and mascara was smeared along her cheeks. She threw herself into the sheriff’s arms. “She’s gone, Josiah! Our baby is gone.” Her voice broke on that last word.
Utah’s heart went out to the two of them. Though he’d never had children of his own, he could only imagine how he would feel in their place.
Josiah continued to hold his ex-wife, his gaze boring into a tall, bald man standing under the porch light in front of him.
The guy shook his head, telling the sheriff without words that the situation looked grim.
“Why don’t you go wait in my car?” Josiah suggested softly to Susan. “I’ll be along shortly.”
She attempted to argue. “I’d rather stay close. What if she calls the house, and I’m not here to answer?”
“You have your cell in your hand,” Josiah pointed out. “We’ll answer the house phone if it rings. Now go ahead. I left it running and the air conditioner is on.”
Utah watched as Susan Dennison swiped at her cheeks with the backs of her hands and stumbled from the porch toward the sheriff’s car.
Josiah leaned in close to the bald man standing in front of him. “Tell me everything, Donnie.”
The one known as Donnie rubbed at the back of his neck. “We found blood on the corner of the coffee table. We’ve taken samples and had them sent back to the lab.”
Tears sparkled in the sheriff’s eyes, but he managed to fight them back. He ran a hand through his graying hair. “How long has she been missing?”
“About twelve hours, sir.”
Utah noticed the sheriff’s slightly stubbled jaw tightening. “She—” He cleared his throat and tried again. “She could be fighting with her boyfriend. Has anyone talked with him yet?”
“He’s at the station now, sir. Being held for questioning.”
Josiah’s expression hardened. “I want to talk to him myself. You go over this place with a fine-tooth comb, Donnie. Do you understand me?”
Donnie nodded. “It’s top priority, sir.”
“No one goes inside until you’ve processed everything. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done questioning the Bishop kid.”
The sheriff stormed off before Donnie could answer.
Utah stared at the open doorway for a heartbeat before stepping inside. His gaze touched on everything around him, from the blood on the coffee table corner to the busted lamp near the door.
Slowly venturing off down the hall, he came to a stop outside the first bedroom on the right, and then stepped inside.
Red cheerleading pom-poms hung from the corner of the bedpost, and a collage of photos covered the top half of the mirror above the dresser.
April’s room, Utah surmised, noticing everything from the made-up bed to the random vacuum lines on the carpet. So much like Leanne’s.
Though Leanne hadn’t been a cheerleader, she’d always kept her bedroom neat and clean.
His heart lurched at the memory of her laugh.
The sound of footsteps coming up the hall pulled Utah back to the present.
Donnie stepped into the room, followed by a young deputy.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” the deputy muttered, glancing at Donnie.
Donnie nodded. “I doubt it was the boyfriend.” He jerked his chin toward the bed. “No wrinkles on the covers, and no footprints on the carpet. If I were eighteen, this would have been the first place I’d have come to.”
“Same here,” the deputy agreed. “I’ll start around back.”
Donnie touched him on the arm as he moved toward the door. “If she hasn’t been found in the next twelve hours, I’m notifying the FBI.”
The deputy paled. “Do you think this has to do with the other disappearances in the area?”
“Could be.”
Utah could barely make out the words exchanged between the two of them for the consistent screams ricocheting in his head.
He closed his eyes and willed himself back to Michelle’s.
She gasped, bounding from the couch at his sudden appearance. “Jesus! You’re going to have to learn to ring the doorbell or something. Else you’ll end up giving me heart failure.”
“I’m sorry,” Utah softly explained, relieved that the screaming had stopped. “I was so focused on stopping the screams that I didn’t think…”
Michelle’s gaze softened. “You mentioned that before. How often does it happen?”
“Nearly all the time. But I don’t hear them around you. And I don’t know why that is. I only know that it’s a relief so great that it takes my breath.”
Indicating the sofa, Michelle rubbed her palms along the front of her sweatpants. “Why don’t you sit?”
Utah moved to have a seat on the couch, still amazed by the effect she had on him.
Michelle sat next to him. “What did you see at Susan’s house?”
“Something bad definitely took place over there. There was blood on the corner of the coffee table, and some overturned furniture.”
“I wonder if April’s boyfriend, Paul Bishop, had something to do with it.”
Utah lifted a shoulder. “Could be, but I don’t think so. Her bed was perfectly made, and no footprints could be seen on the carpet in her bedroom. Nothing but vacuum lines.”
“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t involved,” Michelle persisted. “They could have had a fight.”
Utah met Michelle’s gaze. “They’re eighteen years old. The bedroom is usually the first place kids that age end up.”
Obviously embarrassed by his observation, she quickly changed the subject. “Did you see the sheriff?”
Utah explained everything he’d seen from the time he arrived at April’s house until the moment he’d left, ending with, “If she’s not found in the next twelve hours, they’re calling in the FBI.”
“Do they think this could be connected to the disappearances in the surrounding counties? You know, they never caught the sicko that took all those girls.”
An image of his sister flashed through Utah’s mind, bringing with it the old familiar pain.
“I’m so sorry,” Michelle rushed out, her face turning white. “I didn’t think before I spoke. Please, forgive my ignorance.”
Utah met her beautiful gaze, saw the sincerity swimming in her eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
Michelle didn’t move, didn’t look away. She simply sat there, staring back at him while her palm unwittingly caressed the back of his hand.
Utah slowly leaned in…