“Whatever happens, I’m here for you first, Carly.” He fastened his belt. “Now let’s go find your brother.”
They finished dressing and went out into the main room for waterproof boots and outerwear. Carly tucked her long hair into a knit hat and shoved gloves into her pockets. “I’m ready.”
Seth shrugged into his coat. “We’ll take your Jeep.”
They crossed the meadow and parked at the main house. Patsy was in the kitchen packing a bag of food. Carly helped her mom bag a stack of peanut butter sandwiches and pour hot chocolate into a thermos. Seth carried a container of water and extra blankets to the Jeep.
Thanks to Big Bill, all their vehicles were well stocked with emergency supplies and first aid kits. People who lived in rural areas needed to be prepared for emergencies. Many of the areas around Solitude lacked cell phone service, and it could take some time for help to arrive. Seth loaded the Jeep with the remaining supplies, and they set out for the police station.
The small parking area was full. Seth parked next to a huge black Hummer with a dented front fender. “Who does that belong to?”
“No one in Solitude,” Patsy said as she climbed out of the Jeep.
The tiny police station was empty except for the secretary, Sheila, who waved a bone-thin arm toward the township offices next door. “They’re next door, hon.”
The tiled space hummed with low conversations. A small group of volunteers waited for instructions. Carly spotted two firemen and a few hunters. Police chief Zane Duncan stood at the front of the main lobby. He’d pinned a map of the area to a corkboard. Sections of the township were marked off with red lines. As always, it saddened Carly for a minute to see someone other than her dad in charge. But since taking over the police department last spring, Zane had done an admirable job of filling her father’s giant shoes.
Seth rounded the room and conferred with Zane.
In her Solitude PD winter uniform, Carly’s sister, Stevie, hurried over and hugged her. Stevie’s face was tight with worry. “How’s Mom holding up?”
Carly cast a quick look back at her mother, who was unbuttoning her coat and sweeping her hat off her curly brown-and-gray hair. “You know Mom. She’s amazing. I don’t know how she’s functioning. If Brianna . . .” Carly couldn’t even think of something happening to Brianna without being paralyzed with terror.
Stevie rubbed her arm. “Take a breath.”
“How are you?” Carly asked her sister.
“Anxious to get the search under way,” Stevie said.
Carly scanned the room. “Not many volunteers.”
“The weather has been causing accidents all day.” Stevie’s mouth tightened. Southwestern Oregon was poorly equipped to deal with snow-covered roads. “Let me get back to helping Zane. The sooner we get out of here the better.”
They both knew that every minute that passed lessened their chances of finding Bruce. Carly watched Stevie join Zane. Though they kept their relationship professional when at work, Carly was happy to see the silent bond between them. They worked as a team. After all she’d been through—as a cop in Los Angeles and after their father’s death—Stevie deserved a good man.
James came out of his office with two men in tow. Carly recognized Solitude’s pharmacist and sole real estate agent, Donald Montgomery. Not enough properties changed hands in the town to warrant more than one part-time real estate agent. The second man was a stranger. He was about forty, and everything from his gelled blond hair to his new, expensive outerwear screamed city boy. And that would explain the Hummer outside.
“Hi, Donald,” she said.
“How is Brianna? Over that strep throat, I hope?” he asked.
“Completely, thanks,” Carly said. Though he was from her parents’ generation, she’d known Donald all her life. The Montgomerys were an old Solitude family. His father had been the pharmacist before Donald.
James rubbed Carly’s shoulder. “How are you holding up?”
“Okay.” Carly gave him a one-armed hug.
“Andrew, this is my sister, Carly.” James gestured to the blond man. “This is Andrew Reynolds. He represents Reynolds Real Estate Investment Corporation. They’re considering buying the O’Rourke resort property.”
“Nice to meet you.” Carly shook his hand. A fire at the nearly completed O’Rourke resort back in September had put many people in Solitude out of work.
“Andrew has also volunteered to help with the search today.” Donald’s thick glasses steamed up. He unzipped his North Face jacket and polished the lenses on the hem of his wool sweater.
“Thank you,” Carly said. “We appreciate all the help we can get.”
Hoping the search was ready to start, Carly kept one eye on the front of the room.