Leave No Trace
Page 18
Everything happened so fast, Meg couldn’t tell which sound came first. But through the cacophony of the argument came a scream, several cries of alarm, the shattering of glass, and the explosive, repetitive blast of a car alarm.
“Talon, down!”
Meg dropped low beside Hawk, throwing one arm over his back, her first response being to protect her dog.
There was a moment of silence, then an anguished “Will!”
Meg shot up, her position on the steps giving her a clear view of the parking lot. Brian was similarly crouched, only his head showing between cars. He gave her a thumbs-up—we’re okay—and she returned the gesture. Other townspeople were scattered throughout the parking lot, some crouched low, some simply standing dumbfounded in place, sitting ducks in case of a continuing attack. The group near the Mercedes SUV had scattered, jumping between cars or simply running. Except for Will Cavett, who lay on the ground, and his father, who was crawling toward him. The SUV’s rear lights flashed as its alarm continued to shriek. It was then Meg realized its rear window was shattered. But there’d been no sound of a gunshot.
The archer.
Meg sprang to her feet. “Hawk, come!” They jumped off the steps and sprinted across the parking lot. A flash of movement to Meg’s left told her Torres was coming in fast from his side of the property.
Meg loosened up on Hawk’s leash, giving him room to follow her twisting path around parked cars, and they quickly reached the SUV.
Will lay on the ground, his father on one side and Cassie Taylor on the other. Taylor had her hands wrapped around Will’s upper arm, blood seeping through her fingers and staining his sleeve red.
“Someone please call nine-one-one. We need an ambulance.” Her voice was impressively calm, a woman used to dealing with crises, especially lately. She looked up at Torres as he arrived, then over at Chief Danvers, who appeared out of nowhere between vehicles. “I must have been next on the list and he missed me. Will was winged instead.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the blasting of the alarm.
Meg and Torres shared a look laden with silent communication. Will Cavett had been hit with his father standing at his side—unless there was another archer working with them, neither of them could be their suspect.
The arrow. Meg circled Will, carefully staying well clear of him, and peered into the SUV through the broken window. Inside the cargo compartment, an arrow was embedded in the back of the rear seats. One quick look told Meg it was the same mechanically expanding head, the same black carbon shaft, the same fletching as before.
The archer was here.
Finally, they had the chance to end this. They were never going to have a better search scenario than this, with two search teams on-site at the time of an attack.
She whipped around, peering over the cars for where the shot originated. But everything outside the glow of the parking lot lights vanished into blackness.
Luckily, the dogs didn’t need to see to be able to track a suspect. They just needed to smell him.
“Brian!”
“Right here.”
Meg whipped around to find Brian and Lacey beside Torres. She pointed across the parking lot. “We can’t get the dogs into the back of the SUV to try to pick up scent from the arrow without it taking too much time, destroying crucial evidence, and letting the shooter get away when we’re practically right on top of him, but he’s going to leave a fresh trail leading away from there. They’ll be able to track it no problem.”
“Go.” Torres waved them away.
Brian gave her a sharp nod. Ready.
Brian, Meg, and the dogs sprinted for the darkness.
CHAPTER 19
Roundabout: A circular intersection where traffic flows in one direction around a central island, and priority is given to vehicles already in the traffic circle.
Sunday, April 14, 8:44 PM
Laurel Ridge Vineyards
Blue Ridge, Georgia
They quickly covered the distance across the parking lot and soon melted into the blackness beyond.
“Damn,” Brian muttered. “No go bags.” They’d left their packs in their vehicle once it was clear that space would be at a premium inside. “Should we go back?”
“No, minutes here could make the difference in catching the suspect or not.” Meg dug into her back pocket. “Use your cell for the flashlight. We’ll have to go without the rest.” She brought up her flashlight app and illuminated the path in front of them. Within seconds Brian’s light joined hers.
They stood at the edge of the parking lot. Beyond them, lit by the cold blue-white light of their cell phones, was the elevated platform. Several steps led up to the wide wooden deck, topped by a sturdy railing. Around it, the ground fell away, sloping downward to the fields below.
Meg turned around and stared toward the parking lot, gauging distance and the angle to the SUV. “This is the right angle, but the height is wrong. The SUV isn’t clearly visible from here, and the roofs of the cars on this side would be in the way, even if the suspect is tall. Hawk, come.” Lighting the steps, she climbed to the platform and considered this new position. “Brian, come up here. I think this is it.”
Brian joined her on the lookout. Across the tops of the vehicles, the crowd of people grouped behind the SUV was clearly visible. In between them, Meg could see right into the SUV. Dropping Hawk’s leash, she held up an imaginary bow and drew it back, using her thumb as the sight and trying to connect it to the angle of the arrow lodged inside the cargo compartment. She took one step forward, then a second. “This is it. He was right here. It’s a shorter shot than for Hubbert or White. Maybe sixty or seventy yards, max.” She crouched down without touching the boards at her feet, not wanting to further contaminate the scents. “Hawk, Lacey, come.” She pointed her fingers down toward the wood, stopping an inch above the decking as the dogs came to scent the spot. She looked up to find Brian standing over her. “There was a lot of traffic in this area, so they may pick up different scent trails. If we get separated, stay in touch by cell. If you lose signal, get in touch when you can—”
Hawk whined, drawing her attention. He and Lacey still cast about for scent, but his tail was low and his movements erratic.
“Uh-oh.” Brian laid a hand on Lacey’s back. “Lacey? Can you find it, girl?”
Meg took a step away and watched them for another few seconds. “We have a problem. They can’t isolate the scent.”
“How many people were up here?”
“When we drove in? Six or eight. But think about those buses. How many people were on them in total do you think?”
“Maybe forty-five to fifty on each? Assuming they were full.”
“Even if they were only half full, that’s still forty-five to fifty people who may have been standing on this platform in the last hour. Hawk and Lacey may never be able to isolate a single scent in such a heavily trafficked area. The most recent scent should be the strongest, but they may all be too recent to truly differentiate.”
Brian took a single step down. “Then let’s try around the platform. If the problem is the massive mix of scents, let’s try to find a single track that leads away from the others. After taking the shot, the suspect would have either disappeared into the fields or circled the complex to head farther into the hills. If we find that path, we’ll have a shot.”
“Makes sense to me. Hawk, come.” They clattered down the platform steps. “You go left, I’ll go right.” She turned away from Brian and Hawk followed her. “Hawk, find.”
Hawk cast about for scent, took a few steps in one direction, stopped, changed direction, stopped. He’s not picking up anything definitive.
A knot of dread coiled in Meg’s belly. She flicked a glance toward the crowd seemingly spotlighted in the middle of the parking lot and thought about the downed man lying on the asphalt. Come on, come on, we’re losing time.
But there was no rushing the dogs. They either caught the scent or they didn’t.
&nb
sp; Hawk had another false start, trotting five or six steps before he faltered, stopped, and whined. They tried down toward the fields. Nothing. Then farther down the parking lot. Nothing. As the minutes ticked by, Meg’s tension ratcheted higher and higher as that initial bright hope of catching the suspect slowly slipped through her fingers.
Finally, with a growl of frustration, she was forced to admit defeat. “Hawk, come.” The Labrador turned to follow her, his head down and tail drooping. Meg stopped and crouched down, running her hands over his fur. “Good boy, Hawk, good boy. It’s not your fault we can’t pick up the scent.” Hawk gamely wagged his tail and she kissed the top of his head. “Come on. Maybe we got lucky and Brian and Lacey hit on the trail.”
But when Meg and Hawk stepped back into the light flooding the parking lot, Brian appeared at the far end. They both stopped dead when they saw each other, and Brian shook his head. Disappointment stabbed like a knife and Meg swallowed a curse, not wanting to further discourage Hawk. Heaving a sigh, she trudged toward Brian.
“Nothing?” she called when they got closer.
“Not a damned thing. My read is that the perp came back through the parking lot and got lost in the chaos of the attack.”
“If that’s true, then he was here tonight after all, though I didn’t see anyone I pegged as suspicious. But there were lots of people. The suspect must have been in street clothes and could have gone into the banquet hall or could have been one of the people who rushed in to help after Will went down. No wonder the dogs couldn’t identify the freshest set of tracks because they literally got lost in a huge crowd.” She sighed. “Come on, let’s go break the bad news.”
They started back across the parking lot. An ambulance was parked near the banquet hall entrance, its rear doors thrown open. Will sat on the rear bumper, his right sleeve cut away and his upper arm wrapped with a white bandage. His mother sat beside him, holding his hand, concern etching worry lines around her mouth and eyes as she watched her son. Mason and Mayor Taylor stood slightly off to one side, now talking in more reasonable tones.
“Things look calmer here now,” Brian said.
“You know what they say—nothing defuses an argument quite like attempted murder.” Meg pointed to where McCord stood close to the main entrance with Torres. Webb hung back a few feet behind them.
Torres glanced at them as they approached, looked away, and then did a double take back to them as if his brain suddenly registered what he saw. He stared at them in surprise, his hands outstretched in confusion. “You’re back already? Alone? What happened?”
“There was no trail to follow.”
“What do you mean? You were only minutes behind him. Unless he can levitate, there was a trail to follow.”
The weight of Meg’s disappointment frayed her temper. “We found where the shot came from. There’s a scenic overlook on the far side of the parking lot. It’s raised slightly so there was good visibility over the parked cars to where the mayor and her group were standing. In the dark, we couldn’t see a figure standing there, but the archer had a brilliantly lit scene below to aim at.” Meg tipped her head up toward the LED lights high overhead on equally spaced posts to illuminate the parking area. “Hide in the shadows, make the shot, then disappear.”
“So why couldn’t you follow him?” Torres’s tone was insistent.
Brian grabbed Meg’s arm as she was drawing breath to snarl at him. “I got this.” He swung around to Torres. “Meg already said it—there was no trail to follow. It’s a scenic overlook. It’s had a ton of foot traffic, probably all day. More importantly, the traffic was ongoing until very recently. Did you see those buses parked when we came in tonight?”
“Yes.”
“We got here early and were chatting with one of the vineyard staffers as people were filing in. They do a popular Sunday event where groups tour the vineyard, end with a wine tasting, and then get whisked away to a late dinner at one of several local restaurants that serve Laurel Ridge Vineyards wines. The buses were already parked when we got here, and there were groups of people standing on the lookout, enjoying the view over the hills and valleys as the sun was setting in front of them. Then they packed onto the buses and went on their way.”
Torres was practically twitching with frustration. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“All those people, standing there within the past hour, possibly the past half hour. Maybe only ten or fifteen minutes before we came out. All that fresh scent.”
The twitching stopped as understanding made Torres’s jaw drop slightly.
“The shooter added one more scent onto the platform. It was a jumbled mess of scents to the dogs. When a scent is that fresh, and that plentiful, often the dogs can’t differentiate the one scent they need to find, especially if it’s a scent we aren’t carrying to remind them what they’re looking for.”
Torres held out his hands defensively. “Okay, I get it now.” He looked at Meg. “Sorry, I had high hopes on this one.”
“Trust me,” Meg said, “we did, too. This is beyond disappointing. We did a full search around the platform to cover any direction a single person could have exited, but all the scents combined into one mass exodus toward the parking lot. Once you get close, the scents were pulling the dogs in every direction into the parking lot, but there was no definitive trail to follow. We knew we were out of luck, but kept trying anyway, just in case. But . . . nothing.” She looked over at Will. “How’s he doing?”
“I’ve been standing back letting them work on him,” Torres said. “Let me go check.”
“No need.” Webb stepped out of the shadows behind Torres. “It was a pretty deep contusion, but he just caught the edge of the spinning arrowhead blades. They basically carved a half-inch-wide strip of skin and muscle from his arm. There wasn’t anything to stitch, so they cleaned it, bandaged it, updated his tetanus shot, and started him on antibiotics because open wounds are prone to infection.”
Torres stared at him, dumbfounded. “And you are?”
“Lieutenant Todd Webb. I’m a paramedic with DC Fire and Emergency Medical Services.”
“And my partner,” Meg clarified. “He’s down here to see me when I’m off shift and came with me to the open house tonight.”
“And how do you know all that?”
“I went over and chatted up one of the paramedics. Once he saw my ID, he was happy to talk shop. The young man’s going to be fine, though he’s going to have a pretty impressive scar to show the ladies.”
“It’s also going to mean he’s not going to be able to bowhunt for a while,” Meg added. “There’s no way he’s going to be able to manage the draw weight of a bowstring to aim accurately with an injury like that. If the attacks continue, then we’ll know for certain it’s not him. In case we need more proof to take him off the suspect list.”
“Hard to be the suspect when you’re also the target,” Brian said. “Unless he hired someone of equally high skill to make that shot to take the heat off him. Which isn’t likely, because this isn’t a skill you can crowdsource.”
“Can’t disagree with you there,” Meg said. “Sam, we’re going to need to revise the suspect list.”
“Yeah, I figured that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I feel like we took a gigantic step backward tonight. Not only are we adding a victim to the list, though this one will survive, we had almost all our suspects on-site, and many of them were still here and in plain sight when the shooting occurred.”
“You’re not wrong about losing ground tonight,” Meg said. “I know it’s unlikely, but maybe it is time to look more seriously at the idea of a contract killer. Even if one wasn’t used before, there’s no better way to take suspicion off yourself than being in sight when another shooting happens. It’s a built-in alibi no one would question.”
“Maybe whoever was hired isn’t as good a shot, either,” Brian suggested. “Maybe that’s why the mayor was missed and Will became collateral damage.”
Meg blew out a long breath. “He’s pissed. Not that I blame him. For a few glorious minutes, I thought we’d wrap this tonight, too.” Her shoulders drooped. “Pretty discouraging, and not just for Hawk and Lacey.”
At the sound of his name, Hawk nudged her hand with his nose and bumped against her legs, wagging his tail affectionately.
“Let’s get them home.” Brian ruffled the fur on the back of Lacey’s neck. “Then let’s get a good night’s rest. We need to be ready. I have a bad feeling the clock is ticking and he’s not going to wait long to take out the next victim.”
CHAPTER 20
Tlanuwa: A giant mythological bird of prey with impenetrable metal feathers.
Tuesday, April 16, 12:32 PM
Lake View Cabins
Blue Ridge, Georgia
Meg and Brian started the day with a light breakfast, followed by a jog up and down mountain roads with the dogs, and then a half hour of agility training and parkour drills using the natural landscape—rocks and tree stumps—as obstacles and balance beams. They returned to the cabin to find Webb and McCord waiting for them with lunch ready to go. Two speedy showers later, they were all sitting down to a meal together.
Meg was settling in with an extra cup of coffee when her cell rang. She glanced at the display—Sam Torres—and then at Webb across the table as she answered the call. “Jennings.”