Close Range Christmas by Nicole Helm (ebook reader for laptop TXT) 📗

hiking pants, hiking boots, a black cotton shirt over a black T-shirt, and was carrying a black backpack.

“Has Mr. Trask ever done anything like this before?” Beck asked. “Gone off and not told anyone?”

“Never. He’s always meticulous about giving me his schedule. He’s really dedicated to his work and to his volunteer activities. I don’t think he’s even taken a vacation in the three years I’ve known him.”

Beck nodded. “Was hiking in the park something he did often?”

“Sometimes.”

“What kind of shape was he in?” Beck asked. “Do you think he might have been injured or suffered a heart attack or something while he was hiking?”

“He was in great shape.” She leaned across the table, searching for the right words to convey just how capable Dane was. “He’s a former Army Ranger and he still works out like he could be called back to active duty at a moment’s notice. He hikes and runs and bikes and lifts weights. He definitely doesn’t look like a desk jockey.”

“TDC—that’s in that big new building on the edge of the park?” Beck asked.

“Right. They’ve had a satellite office in Montrose for years, but two years ago they decided to relocate their main headquarters here and built the new campus.”

“What kind of work does Trask do there?”

“He’s an environmental engineer. TDC does all kinds of infrastructure projects, from building schools and factories to hazardous materials mitigation. There are about three hundred employees at this location, but thousands worldwide.”

“And you’re his assistant?”

“Administrative assistant.” She knew Drew Compton, one of the partners at TDC, still referred to all the admins as secretaries, but his suits still looked like they were out of the eighties, too. She stared into Beck’s eyes, determined not to let the intensity of his gaze unnerve her. At least she had the impression he was really listening to her, unlike the woman who had taken her statement at the sheriff’s department. “Will you try to find him?”

He sat back and his gaze shifted away. “Do you know if anything was worrying Mr. Trask? Has he seemed preoccupied? Depressed?”

“Not depressed, but he was preoccupied. Something was on his mind, I just don’t know what.” Dane had been spending more late nights at the office and had been a little absentminded the past couple of weeks, which definitely wasn’t like him.

“If you had to guess, what would you say was bothering him?” Beck asked.

“I don’t know.” She had lain awake much of last night, reviewing every conversation she and Dane had had, searching for any clue as to what might have happened to him. “I thought maybe it was something at work. He’s been putting in a lot of late nights and early mornings.”

“Was there a specific project he was working on?”

“Several. He did everything from analyzing concrete samples to reviewing environmental testing reports. At any point in time, he might be involved in dozens of jobs.”

“What is your relationship with Mr. Trask?”

“He was my boss. And my friend.”

“Were you involved with him romantically?”

“No!” She fought down a flush. “Dane and I are both professionals and we had a professional relationship.” Yes, Dane was a good-looking, even charming, man. But she had never felt attracted to him romantically and she was sure he felt the same about her. They respected each other and they cared about each other—as friends. Sometimes friendship was even more important than romantic love.

“Was he involved with someone else then—someone who might know better what was bothering him?”

“He wasn’t dating anyone at the moment—at least, not that I know of. He ended a long-term relationship with a woman, Eve Shea, last year, though they were still friends. She told me Dane hasn’t been in touch with her. His daughter, Audra, is twenty-two. I’ve been trying to get hold of her, but her voice mail says she’s out of town, and she hasn’t returned my calls.”

“Maybe Mr. Trask is with his daughter.”

“He would have told me if he was going away. He had meetings scheduled for the next day and he wouldn’t have simply failed to show for them.”

Beck seemed to be considering all this. He studied her, not saying anything, until she began to feel uncomfortable, but Cara forced herself to remain still and wait him out. “You really should file a report with local authorities,” he said.

“I did,” she said. “A woman took my statement, but she didn’t seem very concerned. She told me she would put the report on someone’s desk, but not to expect to hear anything soon.” She pressed her lips together, afraid to say more. She could have told Officer Beck that she had dealt with similar attitudes from law enforcement before. They wouldn’t extend themselves to do anything they didn’t see as important. The woman at the sheriff’s department had sized up Cara as a lovesick admin pining for her hunky boss, who was probably off romancing another woman. She had hoped for better from the Ranger Brigade. “Are you going to look for him?” she asked again.

“We’ll look,” Beck said. “But you may not like what we find.”

Something in his tone chilled her. “What do you mean?”

“One of the sad statistics about national park visitors is that some of them come here with no intention of ever leaving. We have to deal with a number of suicides every year. If, as you say, Mr. Trask was troubled by something...” He let his voice trail away, though his eyes remained locked to hers, watching for her reaction.

She sagged back against the chair. “Dane would never take his own life,” she said, her voice shaking. “And when I said he was worried, I didn’t mean he was depressed. He was...preoccupied. Like a man trying to figure out a puzzle or solve a problem. That’s Dane—he’s a problem solver. Suicide wouldn’t be a solution to him.”

“Then it’s possible he met with an accident. He could have fallen and been injured. Some of the terrain in the park can be treacherous. It’s one reason we discourage people from