Page 49 of Scent of Fear

“That’s true.” Paul appeared to warm to the idea. He picked up the article again and read it for a third time. It didn’t take long for him to nod in agreement. “Okay, I think you guys are onto something.”

Before Shane could ask about their next steps, Libby’s eyes widened. “Wait, could this be the guy we saw with the trailer? What was his name? Ward something?” She narrowed her gaze, then added, “Yes, I remember, it’s Engler. Ward Engler.” She tapped the article. “Maybe Ward is a nickname because he was on a prison ward.” Her gaze darted to his. “Didn’t you say you saw his truck here in town?”

“I did.” Shane’s pulse kicked up as he remembered how the guy had bolted out of the restaurant when he and Bryce had come inside. He turned to face Paul. “After I dropped Libby off at the library, I caught a glimpse of a black truck. It was outside a diner, and I asked Bryce to search.”

“Bryce?” Paul frowned. “Why?”

“I was hoping that if your guy Ward Engler was involved with the kidnapping, and he’d spent time with the bad guy Bryce had chased, my K9 might alert on his scent.” He didn’t add that it was a long shot in this case. “He didn’t alert outside, but the license plate of the truck parked in the lot matched the one Libby and I saw yesterday. The one owned by Ward Engler.”

Paul shot him a pained look. “I hope you didn’t accuse the guy of being a criminal.”

“I didn’t get a chance,” Shane said. “When I brought Bryce inside the diner, Engler bolted out the back, leaving a half plate of food behind.”

“That’s weird,” Paul agreed.

“He must be guilty of something,” Libby said. “Otherwise, why get up and leave like that?”

“That’s what I thought, too, but he was gone before I could give chase.” He held Libby’s gaze. “And that’s when you called about finding the article.”

“Okay, hold on,” Paul protested. “A guy leaving a restaurant doesn’t equate to guilt.”

“Maybe not, but it’s not exactly the act of an innocent man either.” Shane picked up the article and quickly scanned it. “There’s no picture of Harry Stern here, but you can get one, can’t you? One from the files back then so that we can compare it to the man we know now?” When Paul hesitated, he added, “Come on, Paul. Libby’s grandfather has been missing for more than twenty-four hours. We’re on a time crunch here. There’s no reason we can’t keep working the case while waiting for Griff.”

“Okay, okay. But I need to make that call to Griff. He’ll want in on this for sure and will also have to coordinate with the feds from Colorado too. I’ll be back in a few.” Paul rose and left to head outside where he could talk without being overheard.

Shane reached across the table to take Libby’s hand. “This is the right thing to do.”

“I know.” Her expression was sad. “I just feel bad for Grandpa. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t done that stupid DNA test.”

“He’ll be okay.” Shane squeezed her hand. “Nobody can carry a secret like this with them forever, Libby. For all you know, it’s been eating at him for a long time now. Trust God. We just need to have faith that everything will work out okay in the end.”

She managed a weak smile. “You’re being awfully optimistic for a man who expects the worst.”

“This is the new me,” he teased. “I’ve turned over a new leaf. This is the cheerful, optimistic Shane.”

Her husky laugh sent a warmth rushing through him, and it was all he could do not to jump across the booth to pull her into his arms.

Oh yeah, this was dangerous ground all right. Steps toward something he’d avoided for years.

And if he were honest, he had no interest in looking for a way out. Quite the opposite.

When this was over, he didn’t want to let Libby go.

12

“Thanks, Shane.” Libby tugged her hand from his and scooted out of the booth. “Excuse me.”

She ducked into the restroom, used the facilities, then stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long moment. As touching as it was for Shane to try cheering her up, she knew that once they found her grandfather, the local police or the FBI would arrest him.

Hopefully, they’d arrest the kidnappers too.

She turned away, tunneling her fingers through her hair. This entire situation was surreal. Why on earth had her grandfather decided to rob the armored truck in the first place? The man she’d known for the past thirty years had never been greedy. He’d seemed happy and content with his simple life.

And she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d kept the money all this time or slowly spent a little here and there to avoid detection. The federal government had a way to track the serial numbers on stolen money, so it seemed unusual that her grandpa could have avoided being caught if he’d used the cash.

Yet what was the point of taking the money if you weren’t going to use it?

So many questions without answers.

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