Page 36 of Scent of Fear

The box of pictures and newsletter clippings Libby had left on the kitchen table was gone.

Someone had come inside for the sole purpose of taking it.

9

Waiting with Bryce was agonizing, especially when Shane disappeared inside. She found herself staring at the cellar doors, half expecting someone to come bolting out from there.

But the exterior of her grandfather’s cabin remained quiet and still.

Finally, Shane emerged from the house. He lifted a hand, indicating she should stay back, before heading toward the cellar. He lifted the door and descended the stairs, holding his weapon ready.

After what seemed like an eternity, he climbed back out. “Come, Bryce!”

The dog had seemed content sitting beside her, but now he raced across the open field to reach Shane’s side. She followed more slowly.

“Good boy.” Shane knelt and stroked the dog’s fur. “You’re a good boy.”

“Why did he growl?” She frowned, looking around curiously. “Doesn’t appear that anyone has been here.”

“The bad guy was here.” Shane rose to his feet and led the way back inside the cabin. “Notice anything missing?”

Her gaze landed on the kitchen table. “The box of photos and newspaper clippings.” She stared in shock. “That makes no sense. Why on earth would the bad guy have come back here to take them?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.” Shane slid his weapon into his belt holster. “Did you notice anything specific about them?”

Her chest squeezed painfully. She wished now that she’d taken the time to go through the contents before leaving. But really, how was she to know the bad guys would come back to steal it? “Not really.”

“Think, Libby.” Shane took a step toward her, his blue gaze boring into hers. “Something must have caught your eye.”

“Everything in the box caught my eye!” She dragged her fingers through her hair, doing her best to maintain some semblance of control. “I remember thinking the photograph sitting on the top of the pile was of my grandfather with two other men.” She envisioned the picture in her mind but couldn’t recall seeing a date along the edges of the photo. “Maybe close to fifty years ago? When Grandpa was nineteen or twenty years old?”

“That’s a good start.” Shane took her hand and drew her toward a kitchen chair. “Take your time. Can you remember anything else?”

Why hadn’t she gone through the entire box? Why? She drew in a deep, calming breath, closed her eyes, and tried to envision the newspaper article. There wasn’t a full headline because the paper had been folded in half. The ink had faded over time. Something about large. No, wait, there were two words. At Large.

She opened her eyes. “The ending of the headline was something about ‘At Large.’ No clue what the rest of it was.”

“Did a date catch your eye?” Shane pressed.

“No. Although with the photograph on top being fifty or so years ago, it might be from a similar time frame.” She shook her head, feeling helpless. “I can’t believe the bad guy came back just to steal the box.”

“Did you lock the patio doors behind us?”

She frowned, sighed, and shook her head. “No. I should have, but I was hoping Grandpa would get free of his captors and make his way back here. I wanted him to be able to get back inside.”

“That’s understandable,” Shane said, although she could tell he wasn’t thrilled at the news.

“Grandpa rarely locks his doors, and honestly, I don’t even know where he keeps his keys. It’s never been an issue as nobody bothers him way out here.” She winced, then added, “Well, until now.”

“That’s okay. I guess it’s a good thing they didn’t have to break in.” Shane reached over to take both of her hands in his. “I’m not blaming you. I’m just trying to figure out what happened.”

Ridiculous tears pricked her eyes. Grumpy Shane was trying to cheer her up. She tightened her grip on his hands, wishing she never had to let him go. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He looked adorably confused. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, Shane.” She offered a watery smile. “You’re sweet.”

“O—kay.” He still looked uncertain.

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