Chapter 6 - THE MAN WHO DISAPPEARED IN THE MOUNTAINS
Thomas Whitlock had been missing for six months.
His bank accounts were untouched.
His phone had gone silent.
His car was found abandoned near a mountain road outside Aspen.
Police had classified the disappearance as suspicious.
But no body was recovered.
Mara had refused to believe he was dead.
Now a message had arrived from his old number.
Gideon brought the message to Detective Bell.
Bell examined it carefully.
“We'll verify the source.”
Mara sat beside Gideon.
Her hands trembled.
“What if it's really him?”
Bell looked at her.
“Then we'll find him.”
The message had been sent from a prepaid phone connected to a remote area near Glenwood Springs.
Investigators traced a recent activation.
The phone had been used only once.
Mara stared at the map.
“My father used to take me hiking there.”
Gideon looked at her.
“Where?”
She pointed toward a narrow valley.
“There's an old ranger station.”
Bell leaned forward.
“Is it occupied?”
“Not anymore.”
A search team was organized.
Gideon wanted to go.
Bell refused.
“This is a police operation.”
Gideon looked at him.
“My mother's death may be connected.”
“And that doesn't give you authority to interfere.”
For a moment, the two men stared at each other.
Then Gideon nodded.
“Fine.”
The team reached the ranger station shortly after sunset.
The building was abandoned.
Windows boarded.
Roof sagging beneath snow.
Inside, investigators found a sleeping bag.
Canned food.
Medical supplies.
And a photograph of Mara.
But no Thomas.
Then they discovered a message scratched into the wooden floor beneath a loose board.
BLUE STAR – WEST WALL – ELEANOR'S ROOM
Gideon stared at the photograph Bell sent him.
West wall.
Eleanor's room.
He returned to the estate.
Mara insisted on accompanying him after her doctors cleared her for discharge with strict instructions to rest and continue follow-up care.
They entered Eleanor's suite together.
Gideon approached the west wall.
A large painting hung above a writing desk.
He removed it.
Behind the frame was a small metal panel.
Locked.
Mara looked at him.
“Do you have a key?”
Gideon shook his head.
Then remembered something.
His mother had always worn a silver necklace.
A small key hung beneath her collar.
After her death, Gideon had placed it in a jewelry box.
He opened the box.
The key was still there.
It fit.
The panel opened.
Inside was a narrow compartment.
A blue glass Christmas star lay wrapped in silk.
Mara covered her mouth.
Gideon lifted it carefully.
The glass was heavier than expected.
He turned it over.
A tiny seam ran around the center.
Inside was a miniature storage device.
And a folded note.
Gideon opened it.
May you like
His mother's handwriting filled the page.
If you're reading this, Gideon, then I was right to be afraid.
