by Sharon Sala
“Mrs. Young, I’m Wyrick.”
“I guessed,” Andrea Young said. “Come in. Justin is in the living room, and just so you know, you’re causing my husband to miss work this morning.”
“No, ma’am, I am not. Your son misplaced a friend. He’s the reason this is happening.”
Andrea’s nose went up in a disapproving sniff. “Follow me,” she said. As soon as they entered the living room, father and son stood. “Peter, Justin, this is Wyrick.”
Peter Young shook her hand. “Ms. Wyrick. I’ve heard great things about Charlie Dodge. We’re happy to do anything we need to help find Tony.”
“Thank you,” Wyrick said, and then looked at Justin. Like Randall, he appeared startled and fascinated by her. “I’m recording all of this for my boss. As soon as I get set up, we’ll begin. There are only a few questions, so it shouldn’t take long.”
“Did you already talk to Randall?” Justin asked.
“Yes, I did,” Wyrick said. “Take a seat, please, so I can set the camera up.”
“Oh, yes, sure,” Justin said, and sat beside his father.
As soon as Wyrick was ready, she got straight to the point.
“Did you and Randall make friends with Tony Dawson before you found out he was dating Trish Caldwell or afterward?”
Justin’s mouth dropped.
Andrea gasped. “What are you getting at?”
Peter frowned. “Wait...what’s happening?”
Wyrick shrugged. “Trish Caldwell never told Tony that she’d dated Randall before he moved here. It shouldn’t have mattered, but teenage boys being teenage boys, it probably did. So, was that what the argument was about? And how drunk were you before the fight started?”
Justin looked from one parent to the other, suddenly wishing they weren’t in the room.
Andrea stared. “Justin wasn’t drunk...right, son?”
Peter frowned. He knew boys better than that, because he’d been one.
“Justin, the truth,” Peter said.
Justin sighed. “We were drunk.”
“And what started the argument you said you had with Tony?” Wyrick asked.
Justin glanced at Wyrick, then looked away. “Randall did. He was jealous of Tony.”
“But why?” Andrea asked. “Randall and Trish Caldwell broke up months before Tony Dawson moved here.”
Justin glanced at his mom and then answered. “Trish is the one who broke it off. I think Randall held a grudge about that.”
“Even though he’s dated other girls since?” Wyrick asked.
Justin frowned. “How did you know that?”
“I know stuff. All kinds of stuff,” Wyrick said.
Justin shrugged. “Tony kept talking about his girl, and Randall got sick of it. He told Tony that Trish was his girl first, before Tony ever moved here.”
Wyrick leaned forward. “And you added to Tony’s shock by telling him that a lot of boys had dated Trish Caldwell. You insinuated she slept around.”
Peter groaned and looked at his son in disbelief. “You didn’t.”
Justin shrugged. “Well, dammit, Dad. I was drunk, okay?”
“That’s how girls’ reputations are ruined,” Wyrick said. “A lie. Just one lie and everybody runs with it.”
“I’m sorry,” Justin said. “I’ll make it up to her.”
“Right now, no one knows you said it but Randall and Tony, so don’t say it again, and the lie doesn’t grow.”
Justin frowned. “How did you find out, then?”
“Randall told me,” Wyrick said.
Justin glared at her. “I don’t believe you. Randall wouldn’t rat on me.”
“He didn’t ‘rat’ on you. He told me the truth. And I know something else you’re not telling. All three of you were together the next morning. You were on the trail and you were all wearing your backpacks. And you were arguing,” Wyrick said.
Peter stood. “How do you know that?” he asked.
“Ask Justin if it’s true,” Wyrick said.
Justin was ashen and trembling. “You can’t know that. No one was there. No one saw us.”
“Actually, you just admitted that was true by the way you denied it,” Wyrick said. “I also know you’re scared shitless about something else. Something worse. What did you two do to Tony Dawson?”
“We didn’t do anything. We didn’t touch him!” Justin shrieked, and got up and ran out of the room.
Andrea jumped up and followed him, leaving Peter alone and in shock.
“I don’t know what to say...what to think,” he mumbled.
“If he confesses anything more, I would appreciate a phone call. If Tony Dawson is still alive, his life might depend on someone willing to tell the truth.”
Wyrick handed him a card from Dodge Security and Investigations, and then picked up her video equipment and left on her own. She was back in the Mercedes and on her way to the office when her cell rang. When she saw it was Charlie, she put it on speaker.
“What?”
“I found his backpack. It appeared to have been hidden, which is why searchers would have missed it before, but I think animals are responsible for the fact that it had been dragged out into the open enough for me to find it. They’d torn into the backpack for the protein bars. Tony’s ID was inside, but there’s no sign of his body anywhere. No blood. No drag marks that would indicate animals got to him.”
“I have news, too. Randall admitted they were all three drunk. Tony kept bragging about his girl, and Randall fired back and said she was his girl first. Then Justin added a little fire by claiming Trish slept around with lots of boys, which isn’t true, but Randall didn’t deny it. What they told Tony must have gutted him.”
“Well, shit,” Charlie said.
“That’s not all,” Wyrick said. “When I was talking to Randall, I saw all three of them with their backpacks, but it was morning, and they were on the trail together, and they were arguing. So either they fought before that night, or Tony was there the next morning, and they lied about not knowing what happened to him.”
Charlie was silent a moment, but he was thinking about Wyrick’s uncanny ability to know what people were thinking when they were being questioned.
“You saw that...like when we interviewed that convict in Phoenix, and you saw the truth of where Fourth Dimension was, and what was happening to those little girls?”
“Yes, like that. I saw the boys together and it was morning.”
“What would happen if you were holding something that belonged to Tony? Do you think you could key in on him?” Charlie asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried to do that,” Wyrick said.
“Call his parents. Tell them you’re coming by and that you need a personal item that belongs to Tony. Something he wears or uses all the time. See what happens and call me. I’ve got a gut feeling they might have hidden his body like they hid his gear, and I want to be wrong.”
“Yes, okay, and if it works, I’ll call you.”
“In the meantime, I’ll continue the search,” Charlie said.
Wyrick disconnected, then pulled up the Dawsons’ home phone and called.
Macie Dawson answered. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Dawson, this is Wyrick.”
There was a gasp, and then Macie’s voice began to shake.
“Oh my God, do you have news?”
“No, not yet,” Wyrick said. “But I have a favor to ask. I need something personal of Tony’s. Something he uses or wears all the time. I’ll get it back to you.”
“Yes, of course. I’m home. I’ll have it ready for you.”
“I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes,” Wyrick said, then put the address in her GPS system and headed to the Dawson home.
She kept trying to focus on Tony, but she couldn�
�t establish a mental or emotional connection. She didn’t feel good about any of this now. Finding out that his hiking gear had been hidden wasn’t a good sign. And the fact that there were no physical signs of him around the gear was disheartening.
What had they done to him, and what had they done with his body?
Four
Macie Dawson went to Tony’s room, then paused in the doorway. What would she choose to give to Wyrick? Then she saw his baseball caps. He wore a cap all the time, and his Dallas Cowboys cap was one of his favorites.
She took it off the bedpost, then carried it downstairs, put it in a paper bag and waited. When she saw Wyrick pull up into their drive a little over fifteen minutes later, then get out at a jog, it made Macie nervous, like something was imminent, that there was news they weren’t telling her. But if they’d found him, they wouldn’t be wanting this baseball cap.
When Wyrick rang the bell, Macie was there. She opened the door and thrust the paper sack toward her.
“Will this do?”
Wyrick looked inside. “Does he wear this a lot?”
“All the time,” Macie said.
“I’ll get it back to you. I promise,” Wyrick said, and sped off, anxious to get back to the office, where it was quiet. She needed to be able to focus.
“Godspeed,” Macie said, but Wyrick was already gone. She stepped back into the house and closed the door.
* * *
Another thirty minutes passed before Wyrick made it back to the office. She parked in her space and was heading for the building when Darrell Boyington jumped out of a car and stepped between her and the building.
“Wait! Wait! I just want to talk,” he said. “I’m sorry I was rude. I’m sorry I called you a freak. I need help.”
“You didn’t listen before, but I want you to listen to me now. You’re lying to me, but I don’t have time to figure out why.”
Boyington blinked.
“What do you mean, you don’t have time to figure it out?” he muttered.
Wyrick ignored him and kept walking straight toward him, but Boyington didn’t like being thwarted, and stood his ground.
When he wouldn’t move, Wyrick poked a finger into the hollow between his collar bones, pressing so hard it made him wince.
“This is the second time you have staked me out after being asked to leave the office. Am I going to have to file stalking charges against you?”
Boyington backed off. Cops were the last thing he needed. “No, no, I just need help and—”
“Find someone else, because if I see you anywhere around here again...or if you try and chase me down on the freeway again, I will tell Charlie Dodge. And trust me, you do NOT want that to happen. There are dozens of other investigators in Dallas. Go hire one of them. Now get your ass in that car and get the hell out of this parking lot, or I’m calling the police.”
“Sorry,” Boyington said. “I’m leaving. No cops. No cops.”
And the moment he said that, Wyrick’s heart skipped a beat. He knew Cyrus Parks. She didn’t know how, but she saw Cyrus’s face superimposed over Boyington’s and knew that was who he was thinking about. Holy hell! Was he working for Parks? Was she in danger again? So, now was the time to put a stop to it before it went any further.
“While you’re at it, call Cyrus Parks and tell him you quit, because I’ll destroy the both of you if I see your face again.”
The shock on Boyington’s face was real.
“How did you—?”
Wyrick took another step toward him. “Get away from me. Now!”
The thought ran through his head to just break her neck now, but he already knew there were video cameras everywhere. And naming the man who’d hired him had been shocking. How the fuck had she known that?
He turned around and headed for his car, and was running by the time he got inside. He started it up and peeled out of the parking lot without looking back.
Wyrick was worried all over again. Just when she thought Parks had backed off for good. Maybe he found out she’d been part of taking down Fourth Dimension. Or maybe he just hated being thwarted enough to want her dead. Either way, her sense of safety was gone. She hurried into the building, then up to the office.
Once she was inside, she locked the door behind her, then began turning on lights. She started coffee brewing, then took the sack into Charlie’s office and sat down. The moment her fingers touched the cap, she could see Tony Dawson’s face, so she closed her eyes and followed the vision.
* * *
Charlie marked the coordinates of the backpack on his GPS and then paused, trying to decide whether to go back up onto the trail to continue his search or shift to this lower location. He felt like a crime had been committed, but he still hadn’t decided if it was premeditated or a crime of chance.
As he looked around at the heavier forested area, he thought he could hear water, and remembered the map showing the location of a creek down in this canyon. If Tony was hurt, it stood to reason he would seek a water source, so he began walking toward the sound.
The canyon he was in now was rife with juniper, oak, cottonwood and ash, all of which afforded shelter to a diverse assortment of wildlife. Birdcalls and the occasional chatter from a squirrel above him were evident, and more than once, he came across deer tracks. The farther he went down into the canyon, the more animal signs he found.
When he found the creek, the cougar and bear tracks gave him pause. If Tony Dawson was no longer alive, the chances of finding him in pieces was real. And even though he’d seen enough of that when he was still serving as an Army Ranger, the possibility put a knot in his belly, so he kept walking, looking for signs of human footprints, too.
The sun was moving too fast across the sky for Charlie’s peace of mind. If he didn’t get a break soon, he would be spending his second night under the stars, and for Tony Dawson, it would be night five.
When a rattlesnake slithered out from the scrub, moving across the rocky path without concern that Charlie was even there, he froze, waiting motionless for it to pass.
When it finally disappeared into the brush on the other side of the path, he moved on until he got to an open space on the trail and caught a glimpse of something moving off to his right. Once again, he stopped, watching as a doe and a half-grown fawn moved through the trees and then, like the snake, moved out of sight.
By his estimation, he was about a quarter of a mile from where he’d found the backpack. Logic would lead anyone to believe that a hiker would never leave that behind, and certainly wouldn’t hide it. But what if he had been the one to hide it? What if he’d meant to come back for it and something happened to him?
Charlie paused again, looking around at the area, then up through the trees, trying to get a glimpse of the trail above where he was standing.
“Where the hell are you, kid? Where did you go?” Then he pulled out his phone and called Wyrick.
* * *
The cap Wyrick had been holding was on the floor between her feet. She was sitting with her head down, gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that the ends of her fingers had turned white, but she was no longer in Charlie’s office.
It was dark and narrow here. And cold.
Water. She could hear water dripping.
Something was back there—growling—no, no, not a growl. A moan. It was a moan.
Sweat broke out across her forehead as a wash of heat swept through her, but she was focused on the moan. It connected to pain—pain she could feel now.
God, oh God! The pain!
* * *
She was about to move deeper into the darkness when her phone rang. The sound yanked her out of the vision so fast she fell forward out of the chair onto her hands and knees.
Her phone kept ringing, and she couldn’t focus on where she was, and then she saw the dark red pattern of the area rug in C
harlie’s office and groaned.
“Shit,” she muttered, and scrambled to her feet to get to the phone she’d left on her desk. “I’m here!” she said, and then heard Charlie chuckle.
“Where else would you be?”
“Never mind,” she said. “He’s alive.”
Charlie froze. “What? Where?”
“Inside something...something long and narrow. It’s cold. I heard a trickle of water. I heard what sounded like a moan. The pain...the pain is bad. I don’t know where it is, but I think he’s in a cave. I can’t explain what any of that means. I don’t know if that was a vision from the present or if it was something from the past. You might find him, and he’s not alive anymore...understand?”
“Yes. And thank you,” Charlie said.
Wyrick sighed. “You’re the one who thought of it. Now go do your thing, Charlie Dodge. Figure it out. Find the kid before it’s too late.”
“Jesus, Wyrick! I’m down in this canyon without a freaking clue as to where to go next. Do you see a landmark, or something specific that would tell me where to even start looking?”
She ran back into his office and picked up the cap. Again, the room disappeared and this time she was standing in a small clearing, looking toward a wall of rock and scrub brush.
“Get off the path,” she said. “I think you need to move into the trees toward the cliffs. Whatever you need next is in plain sight, and that’s all I know.”
“Heading that way now,” Charlie said. “If you get anything else, let me know.” He left the trail.
The going was slow now, moving through trees, scrub brush and uneven, rocky ground. His focus was on looking for something that didn’t belong...maybe something man-made...something that Tony Dawson might have dropped. Wyrick said plain sight, and he trusted what she said.
The trail he’d left was about thirty yards behind him now, but he could no longer see it. It would be easy to get lost in here, especially if someone was sick and disoriented.
And then he came upon what looked like a garden of rocks and large boulders. At some time in the past, a part of the mountain had broken off and fallen down here, scattering the rocks about until they looked like they’d come up from the earth like seeds of mountains-to-be.
