Missing In Blue Mesa

* * *

ETHAN EMERGED FROM the tent to find Simon waiting for him. “I was about ready to come in there after you,” Simon said. He glanced over Ethan’s shoulder. “What happened? How is Asteria and the other one—Stardust or whatever she calls herself?”

“Starfall. Michelle. Her real name is Michelle. She’s pretty bruised up, and obviously terrified, though she’s trying not to show it. Asteria is fine. Concerned for her friend, of course.”

“What happened to her?” Simon asked. “To Starfall?”

“She says she fell, but I think somebody beat her.” He shifted his gaze to Metwater’s motor home. No light shone from inside the dwelling.

“I didn’t get anything out of any of the people who were still standing around here,” Simon said. “They say they were at the bonfire and didn’t see or hear anything.”

“Let’s see what Metwater has to say.” Ethan started toward the motor home.

“I knocked, but no one answered,” Simon said, falling in step beside Ethan. “I figured I’d wait for backup before I broke down the door.”

“Maybe it won’t come to that.” Ethan pounded the door, a thunderous sound in the still darkness. “Open up!” he shouted. “Police!”

No answer.

Ethan glanced back at Simon, who had already drawn his weapon. “Metwater has a license for a handgun,” Simon said. “I’d just as soon not give him a chance to use it.”

Ethan nodded and drew his Glock. “On three,” he said. “One. Two. Three.” He hit the door hard, landing a fierce kick beside the lock, the metal crumpling under the blow. He hit it again with his shoulder and it burst inward. He immediately ducked around the jamb, waiting for an explosion of gunfire that didn’t come.

Simon’s eyes met his and he nodded. Ethan went in first, gun at the ready, Simon at his back. Simon hit the light switch, illuminating a sofa, recliner, table and lamp. Nothing out of order and no obvious place for anyone to hide. Adrenaline making him hyperalert, Ethan pounded down the hallway to another door. He didn’t bother knocking, but burst in, onto a scene of chaos.

A man cursed and a woman screamed—and kept on screaming. Ethan flicked the wall switch to the left of the door, and a single bedside lamp glowed, revealing a young woman standing in the corner, frantically trying to cover herself with a sheet she had dragged from the bed. Her mouth was open, and tears streamed down her face.

Daniel Metwater, naked and red-faced, sat up on the side of the bed. “Freeze!” Simon ordered, and fixed his weapon on him.

Metwater glared at them. “What is the meaning of this? The district attorney has ordered you people to leave me alone. I’ll have your jobs, and then I’ll sue you for everything you own. I—”

“Shut up,” Ethan said. “And keep your hands where we can see them.”

Metwater looked as if he might argue, but finally raised his hands to shoulder level. But he didn’t stop talking. “You can’t bust into a man’s home in the middle of the night for no reason,” he said.

“Shut up.” Simon gave the order this time.

Ethan addressed the woman. “Are you all right, ma’am?” he asked.

She closed her mouth and swallowed, then nodded.

“What’s your name?” Ethan asked.

“Sunshine.”

“What’s your full name?” he asked. “Your real name.”

“Sunshine is my real name. Sunshine Hartford.”

She looked barely eighteen, with strawberry-blond curls and freckles. “Ms. Hartford, how long have you been here with Mr. Metwater?” Ethan asked.

“N...not long.” She pulled the sheet up higher over her breasts.

“How long?” Ethan asked. “Give me your best estimate.”

“She’s been here almost an hour,” Metwater said.

“I told you to be quiet,” Simon said.

“How long have you been here?” Ethan asked again.

“I guess like he said.” She bit her bottom lip and glanced at Metwater. “About an hour?”

She was lying, but there wasn’t much Ethan could do about it now. Confident Simon had Metwater under control, he holstered his Glock and took out a small notebook. “Give me your contact information and then you can get dressed and wait for us outside,” he said.

He waited until the young woman had gathered her clothing and left the room, the sheet still wrapped around her. Then he turned to Metwater again. “Get up and put on some pants,” he ordered.

With a sneering look, Metwater scooped a pair of loose-fitting white trousers from the floor and tugged them on. He tied the cord at the waist. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“What happened between you and one of your followers—a woman called Starfall?” Ethan asked.

The expression in Metwater’s icy brown eyes never changed. “What about her? If she’s gotten into some kind of trouble, that’s her problem, not mine.”

“Not very sympathetic for a man who claims to be the head of a family,” Simon said.

“We witnessed her coming out of this motor home less than half an hour ago,” Ethan said. “She was bruised and bleeding. She fainted.”

“I don’t know why she would be here.” Metwater looked around, found a shirt and pulled it on, but didn’t button it.

“I didn’t ask if you knew why she was here,” Ethan said. “What happened while she was here? How was she hurt?”

“I have no idea.”

“Where were you when she was hurt?” Simon asked.

Metwater shrugged. “Since I don’t know when she was hurt, or even if she was hurt, I can’t answer that.”

“Where were you thirty minutes ago?” Ethan asked.

“I already told you—I was here with Miss Hartford.”

“So you admit you were here, in this motor home, at the time Starfall was hurt,” Ethan said. “Yet you don’t know how she was hurt?”

Metwater’s smile held no warmth. “I was otherwise occupied. With Miss Hartford.”

“Is Miss Hartford one of your followers?” Simon asked. “I don’t remember seeing her around before.”

“She’s an aspiring disciple,” Metwater said.