Sins of the mother (Chapter-33)

After what seemed like an eternity, Brooke’s GPS app announced that they had arrived at their destination. She couldn’t remember a ride ever seeming to take so long. Moments later, the Jeep crunched to a stop in front of the motel. The parking lot was full of cars, most of which were probably travelers who decided it would be better to seek sanctuary than brave the storm. A quick trip around the lot did not reveal a green Ford truck.

“It doesn’t look like his vehicle is here,” Lukas said.

“He could have changed again.”

“True. Let’s check with the office.”

Brooke followed Lukas across the parking lot. The man behind the desk appeared to be busy with paperwork. He was gray-haired and looked sleepy.

“How’s business?” Lukas said.

“Booming. It happens every time there’s a snowstorm. People can’t make it to the cabins up in the mountains, so they end up here. You folks need a room?”

“No, thanks. We’re here on business. I’m Detective Miller, and this is Detective Stevens. We’re working on the kidnapping of a little girl from Kingsport and were wondering if you’ve seen this man.” Lukas pulled up Dolan’s driver’s license photograph on his phone.

The man put his glasses on but still squinted at the picture. “Looks kind of familiar, but I can’t say for sure. The Gatlinburg police were already here about this, you know.”

“Sorry, we’re just being thorough and following up. He would’ve been accompanied by a five-year-old girl.” This time Brooke showed him a picture of Sierra she had on her phone.

“No, but she’s adorable. I think I’d remember her.”

“Would you care if I looked at the register?”

“No, by all means. Come around the counter, and I’ll set you up in the office.”

Brooke and Lukas entered the office and took seats in swivel chairs. Lukas combed the guest register while Brooke studied the vehicles the guests had registered. About a minute into the search, Lukas asked Brooke, “What’s Dolan’s middle name?”

“I think his driver’s license, said Alan.”

“There’s no Dolan or Danson here, but there is an Alan Atkins.”

“Another alias?”

“Maybe. There’s an Alan Atkins registered here right now.”

“What room?”

“Room one-eleven, bottom floor. Do you think it’s him?”

“Cross the vehicle listings.”

Brooke found the entry for the matching room. “Here it is. Silver Honda. It doesn’t match, but he could have switched cars again.”

“Agreed,” Lukas said. “We have to hit the room no matter what the vehicle register says.”

“Should we call anyone?” Excitement and anticipation were starting to build up inside Brooke. It was a long shot, but maybe…

“I’ll call the locals. Meantime, we watch the room.”

Lukas was on his phone for five minutes.

“They’re sending their Tactical Response Team. Should be here in twenty minutes.”

It was closer to a half-hour than twenty minutes, but eventually, a black tactical van rolled into the parking lot along with a marked and unmarked cruiser. Lukas and Brooke had kept a close eye on the room, but they’d also searched the parking lot for a silver Honda. There wasn’t one in the lot. No one had gone into or out of the room. 

Lukas, Brooke, and the Tactical Response Team commander talked for ten minutes and devised a plan for entering the room. The first step would be evacuating the people in the adjoining rooms. After that, the TRT would blast through the door using a battering ram. They would clear the room, and if Dolan was in there, they would either arrest him or – if he resisted or threatened to harm Sierra – kill him. Each member of the eight-man team was shown photos of Dolan and Sierra.

“But we’re not sure he’s in there, correct?” the TRT commander said. He was a skin-headed, tough-looking man named Deakins who looked to be about forty.

“We’re not, but we can’t take a chance on him being there and us doing nothing. If he’s not in there we need to focus our energy elsewhere.”

“Why don’t we just wait until morning? Wait him out.”

“What if he kills her during the night?” Brooke said. “We’ve already told you what we’re dealing with. He’s unpredictable and dangerous. We called you out of respect because we’re in your jurisdiction. We can’t wait.”

“I have to call my chief and cover my ass,” Deakins said.

“Do what you have to do, but my daughter might be in that room. We’re going in with you or without you,” Brooke said.

Deakins put his phone to his ear and walked away for a few minutes. When he returned, he said, “Let’s do it.” He began giving orders to his men, and within minutes, the rooms adjacent to room one-eleven were being evacuated. It was nearing midnight, and people were clearly not happy about being hauled out into a snowstorm. They were all directed to the lobby.

Once the rooms were clear, one of Deakins’s largest officers, followed closely by four others, walked up to the door carrying a battering ram. Brooke and Lukas moved in behind them, but the looks they received from the other officers told them their presence wasn’t appreciated.

“On three,” the second officer in line whispered. “One…two…THREE!”

The door exploded, and the officers rushed in, shouting instructions for the occupants to get on the floor. The flashlights attached to their assault rifles lit up the room, and when Brooke stepped in, her heart sank. The two beds in the room were neatly made. There wasn’t a sign of anyone.

He was still one step ahead.

Brooke walked through the room slowly, taking note of everything. She stepped into the bathroom. On the counter next to the sink was something that seemed out of place. It was a white, cardboard coaster that advertised “Smoky Mountain Cabins, Inc.” She was taking a photo of it with her phone when Lukas walked in.

“What is it?” Lukas said.

“He left it for us. He’s telling us where he is.”

“Are you sure?” Lukas looked down at the coaster.

“Why would that coaster be sitting there? He probably knew we’d find the matches at his place and knew we’d eventually show up here. He must have figured we’d catch onto the alias. He’s playing games, Lukas. He’s enjoying this.”

“I’ll get an evidence bag and seal it up,” Lukas said.

Brooke went outside and told Commander Deakins what she’d found. She asked him about the business.

“They’ve got a bunch of cabins and chalets scattered around Gatlinburg, Pigeon Forge, and Sevierville,” Deakins said. “Pretty big operation. They rent some and they sell some.”

“The coaster says they open at eight in the morning,” Brooke said. “I guess that’s our next stop.”

“You’ll have to call the Sevier County Sheriff’s Department if you need tactical help,” Deakins said. “That’s out of my jurisdiction.”

“We appreciate you helping us out here.”

“When they send us a bill for the door, we’ll forward it on to your department,” Deakins said, and he turned and walked off.