by Todd Borg
It was now dark outside. There were no drapes on the big windows that faced the lake. I wondered about privacy in a house where a little girl lived.
“Do you have a nice home in the Bay Area?”
“Sure. Why do you ask?”
“Why not just live in the Bay Area, and come up here on vacation?”
Ryan hesitated. “I like Tahoe.”
“C’mon, Ryan, tell me the truth.”
He looked away, flicked his eyes around the room, then looked back to me. “We have some business in Tahoe.”
“What kind?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Ryan, whatever you’re trying to hide from me could be the crux of what is going on.”
“I don’t think that could be true.”
I stood up. “I can’t work for you without your cooperation.”
“Wait. Don’t leave. I’ll tell you. But I need your word that you won’t mention what I say to anyone.”
“I won’t unless I have to.”
“No, that’s not good enough.”
“Ryan, you can trust me to respect your privacy, but I won’t keep a secret if it puts someone in danger, or if I have to break the law, unless it is appropriate to the situation. In general, you can know that I won’t tell anyone. But I won’t agree to a blanket condition that eliminates my discretion.”
“Okay. We do some bio-tech research here.”
“In Tahoe,” I said. It took me a second to place the idea of bio-tech research in an area that is focused on outdoor recreation.
“Yes,” Ryan nodded. “It may actually become the centerpiece of our future plans for CalBioTechnica. We envision a new class of biologicals that we expect to develop in the future. We think they will transform part of medicine. So we acquired a building and built a research facility just out of Incline Village. Four scientists work up there, and I do some work at that lab as well.”
“What could Tahoe possibly have that the Bay Area doesn’t?”
“Altitude.”
“What does altitude have to do with bio-research?” I asked.
“It’s a bit hard to explain. We’re studying hypoxic stress and related genetic adaptations.”
“Which, in lay-speak, means?”
Another pause. “You’ve heard of recombinant DNA?”
“Sure. That’s when you take our genetic code and rearrange things to punch it up, right?” I said.
If I’d told Mozart that he took simple songs and made them sound fancy by using different instruments, I would have gotten the same withering look that Ryan gave me.
“I wrote a White Paper on our process. It was part of our information packet for potential investors. I’ll get it for you.”
He walked out of the room and was gone for a minute. He came back and said, “I must have left my briefcase in my car. I’ll be right back.”
Ryan went out, leaving the front door ajar. Several seconds later I heard a grunt like when someone is punched in the solar plexus, followed by a couple of thuds like car doors shutting. An engine revved, tires screeched.
I ran outside into the dark. His Lexus was still there.
“Ryan!” I shouted. “Ryan!”
No response.
In the distance through the trees was the flicker of red taillights. Then nothing.
NINE
I shouted Ryan’s name again. No answer. I ran back into the house. Dialed Diamond as I sprinted inside. The phone rang on the other end of the line.
“Lily,” I said. “Come with me. We need to go find Ryan.”
She was still sleeping against Spot. She looked up, alarmed.
“Where is Ryan?” she asked, her eyes pinched with fright and worry. She’d met me, but she didn’t know me. I was a stranger in her house.
“He went outside,” I said to Lily, my heart thumping, struggling for a way to present a kidnapping. “Somebody took him for a ride. We should go look. Let’s hurry. Spot will come with us.”
Diamond answered.
I turned away from Lily, took fast steps out the front door. “Ryan Lear was just kidnapped out of his driveway,” I said in a low voice. “I didn’t see the vehicle. I saw taillights through the trees. The spacing seemed like a large vehicle. I couldn’t see anything else.”
“Nothing to go on,” Diamond said.
“No. I’m going to take Lily and head out to the highway. I’ll be in touch.”
I hung up, went back inside.
“Ready, Lily?”
She was standing near Spot, her hand reaching up to his collar as if it were a life ring. I reached for her hand. Picked her up and held her at my side.
“Where did Ryan go?” she said, her voice high and tiny and scared.
“I don’t know.”
She didn’t fight me, but she was rigid with fear.
“Spot, come.”
I headed out the door. I didn’t have a key, so I left it unlocked.
I put Spot in the back seat of the Jeep, and pushed him over to the side. He would give Lily more comfort than I could, so I put Lily in next to him, and buckled her belt. I got in the driver’s side and drove off.
Up at the highway, there was no traffic. I saw a tiny, distant flash of red taillight far to the south. I turned right, accelerated hard. I caught up to the taillights a mile south. It was a Ford Expedition, all three seats stuffed with people. Summer tourists. Probably heading to the late show at the casino showroom. I went past them, drove into town, turned around and headed back north.
“Where did Ryan go?” Lily asked, tremolo in her voice.
“I don’t know. But you watch out your window. I’ll watch out mine. Maybe we’ll see him.”
I drove back north, past the turnoff to Ryan’s, pulled over by Cave Rock. I called Street.
“Hello?”
I tried to sound calm for Lily’s benefit. “It’s me. I’m with Lily and Spot in my Jeep. Someone took Ryan.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Lily and I were inside. He went outside. Someone took him for a ride.”
“He was kidnapped?!”
“Yeah. I could use some help.”
“Does Lily understand?”
“Somewhat. How about we pick you up, and you come over.”
“Yes. Of course.”
I drove north through the Cave Rock tunnel, and pulled into Street’s condo a few minutes later. She came running out, got in the front seat.
She turned around, reached over to touch Lily behind her.
“Hi Lily. My name is Street. I’m so sorry that Ryan went away suddenly.”
“Where did he go?” Lily’s voice quaked.
“We don’t know, yet. We’re going to find him.”
I pulled out onto the highway.
“You think we should go back to Ryan and Lily’s house?” Street asked.
“Yeah. Familiar territory for Lily.”
Street nodded. She turned back to Lily, while I called Diamond and explained where we were.
“Smithy and I are at Ryan’s,” he said. “The house is empty. No sign of trouble.”
“Do you have your light bar off?”
“Yeah. Smithy knows that there is a child involved, and we want to minimize the trauma. Another patrol unit is on the way. I’ll radio them, too.”
“Thanks.”
We were back in Ryan’s drive in five minutes.
Diamond stood at Ryan’s door. Smithy was in their patrol unit. I told Street and Lily that I’d be right back. I let Spot out of the Jeep, and we went up to the house.
“What do you think?” Diamond said.
“No idea. If it’s a ransom demand, we’ll know soon. If it’s a murder, it could be weeks before we find something.”
“Like the body up on the Rim Trail,” Diamond said.
“You check the house?” I asked.
“Found the door unlocked. Looked inside, briefly.”
“I’ll have Spot check.” I turned to him. “Spot, I want you t
o find the suspect!” I grabbed his chest, pointed him inside the house, and vibrated him to get him primed. “Do you understand, Spot? Find the suspect!” I smacked him on his rear, and he ran into the house.”
“Lot’s of human scents in there,” Diamond said. “You think he can sort out which are remnants and which, if any, are current occupants.”
I nodded. I went inside. I heard Spot moving upstairs. He came down. There was no excitement in him. I pointed him toward the stairs that led to the lower level.
“Find the suspect!” I said.
All he did was sniff the air, then turn back to me, a clear sign that no one else was in the house.
I went back out and escorted Lily and Street inside. Street took Lily into her bedroom. Spot went with them.
I went back outside.
A second patrol unit had arrived.
“Leave a deputy here overnight?” I said.
“That’s what I thought,” Diamond said. “You have a plan?”
I shook my head.
It was a long night. Street finally got Lily to sleep by lying next to her on her bed and reading stories to her.
I wandered the house, napped on one of the couches, paced in the dark, made a pot of coffee and brought a cup out to Smithy in his Douglas County SUV. We spoke a bit, then I went back inside.
In the morning, Street tried to be upbeat for Lily, whose curiosity and cheerful demeanor had been replaced by a somber depression.
She asked, “Where’s Ryan?” and, “Is he okay?” and “When will he be back?”
Street and I both struggled with answers.
Street made breakfast for Lily. I found Ryan’s home answering machine. No blinking light. His other phone numbers would have voicemail boxes, but I couldn’t access them.
I left Street and Lily with Spot, told Street I was going to my office. I stopped and talked to Smithy in the SUV out front. He said it was a quiet night, said he would stay there while I was gone.
It was a beautiful summer day, calm and aromatic of pine trees, an idyll that was a complete disconnect from the trauma of kidnapping.
There were no messages on my office machine.
I got Diamond on the phone.
“Anything?” he said.
“No. You?”
“Just talked to Smithy,” he said. “We’re juggling. Praeger will replace him in an hour and stay at the Lear house for today, at least. Not that it will matter. Best keep the girl inside with Spot and Street when you’re not there.”
“Yeah.”
I hung up, and called Street. Nothing had changed.
I walked out of my office, self-critique making it hard to breathe. There was a nearby path that led to the woods, a path where I knew there was cell coverage. Maybe I could think in the trees.
Ryan Lear knew that his situation was bad enough to call me. When you want to accurately assess any situation, you get a professional who works the territory, a person whose job it is to read the indicators and gauge the threat.
And I let Ryan walk out into the dark alone.
I began to run, going hard up the trail, pushing my heart and lungs, pushing my psyche. You run hard enough, it goes from exercise to punishment.
When I was drenched in sweat, I turned around and headed back to the Jeep. I was getting into the driver’s seat when I thought I should check the office machine once again.
There was a note on the floor just inside my office door. I picked it up with a piece of tissue even though I assumed it would contain no prints.
It was printed on a piece of copy paper. The font looked like Times Roman. Same as the note stapled to the obits page.
“You’re falling down on the job, McKenna. Ryan Lear got a taste of his future last night. But we don’t want him to die just yet. If you hurry, he may still be alive. Look for him at the top of Ski Run.”
I ran to my Jeep. Ski Run is on the California side, out of Diamond’s jurisdiction, so I called Mallory of the South Lake Tahoe PD as I drove.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Commander,” I said. “McKenna calling.”
“Heard from Diamond that you’ve got a kidnapping.”
“Why I’m calling. Just found a note at my office. Ryan Lear, the kidnap victim, is at the top of Ski Run. I’m heading there now.”
“See you there.” Mallory hung up.
The town was full of tourists. Stop and go traffic. Long waits at stoplights.
Just after Heavenly Village, I cut off on Pioneer Trail. The traffic was still heavy. I turned left at Ski Run, went up the long hill as far as the road goes, parked and got out.
I saw trees, rocks, the lake view. No person.
“Ryan?” I yelled. No response. “Ryan!”
If I went higher, I could see more. I ran up the steep slope, my legs still burning from my earlier run.
“Ryan!”
I went around an outcropping, looked off to the side.
“Ryan!”
If I climbed up on the outcropping, I’d be able to see farther.
I scrambled up, turned a complete circle, studying the trees, the rocks, the downed logs.
“Ryan!”
Far down on Ski Run came two South Lake Tahoe PD cars, racing up the big hill, lights flashing, sirens off. In the distance behind them was the Fire Department Rescue vehicle.
I kept turning, looking. I had no idea what to expect. Would Ryan be stumbling and hypothermic from all-night exposure? Or would I find a body?
I turned again.
Something moved.
Far up the slope, in the trees. One of the trees had a dark bulge on the trunk, well up from the ground. Green.
I dropped off of the outcropping and sprinted up the mountain.
There was a huge boulder. In front of it, two feet away, was a small pine.
Ryan stood in the tree with his feet perched on two branches that were ten feet off the ground. His back was to the pine. His arms were behind him, wrapped behind the tree trunk. A dark green pillow case had been pulled over his head and tied around his neck.
Someone had made him climb up on the boulder, made him step out to the tree branches, then cuffed his arms so that he leaned forward, out from the tree. If his feet didn’t slip, he’d be okay. If they did slip, he’d fall and his arms would be jerked up behind him, tearing out his shoulder joints.
“It’s Owen, Ryan. Hang in there. I’ll have you down in a few minutes. Don’t move. I’m coming up the boulder from behind.”
I got myself into position, leaning from the boulder to the tree.
“Almost there,” I said.
He’d been up on the tree long enough that his muscle strength had given away, leaving his arms stretched tight behind him. But his feet were still on the branches.
“First, I’m cutting the pillowcase off your head. Concentrate on not moving your feet.”
I got my jackknife under what looked like hay-bale twine, cut it away, gently pulled the pillowcase off.
Ryan’s head lolled.
With my other arm, I got the knife into position near his wrists, knowing that he would fall forward off the perch as soon as I freed his arms. I could wait for the SLT cops to get up the long slope and catch him. But I didn’t know if Ryan could wait that long.
“Okay, Ryan, hold still. I’m going to cut the zip tie on your wrists.”
I shifted my shoulder against the tree, reached out around the tree, and grabbed Ryan across his chest.
He shivered violently despite the warming sun.
With one motion, I cut the tie, tossed the knife to the boulder, and grabbed another handful of Ryan’s shirt.
Ryan made an agonizing cry of pain as his arms dropped forward.
“We’re going to move you to the right. Lift up your right foot. Reach it back.”
He made a weak motion with his foot.
“Farther. A little more.”
I had all my weight leaning against the tree. I shifted him in my arms, lifting him up and t
o the right, back toward the boulder.
“You’re only three inches away from the rock. Two inches. There, contact. Keep your foot planted while I swing you around the tree and up onto the rock.”
I took a breath and swung him, lifting with all of my strength.
Ryan landed on the boulder, made a guttural yell as he collapsed.
I stepped back onto the boulder, rolled him onto his back.
“My arms,” he mumbled, his eyes shut in pain.
I straightened his body and gently pulled his arms into a more natural position, elbows at his sides, hands on his stomach.
“You got your shoulders seriously stressed. Lie still, and the pain will gradually diminish.”
Mallory and one of the SLT cops came around the uphill side of the boulder and climbed up onto the rock. The other cop walked to the base of the tree, used a baggie to pick up the zip tie I’d cut from Ryan’s wrists. Two paramedics ran up the slope, carrying a gurney. By the time they got close, they’d slowed to a walk, their lungs huffing.
They handed the gurney up to me, and I lay it down next to Ryan.
We got Ryan strapped on, arms immobilized, and lowered him off the big rock. He was in the hospital 15 minutes later.
Doc Lee was on duty. He asked Ryan some questions about the pain, about the position he’d been in. While I explained to Mallory what had happened, a nurse cut Ryan’s shirt off so that Doc Lee could examine his shoulders.
Lee decided that Ryan probably had numerous small tears in his ligaments and tendons, but that with time his shoulders would heal without any surgical intervention. He also said that the cuts on Ryan’s wrists from the zip tie were bad enough to leave scars, but said that they would eventually heal well. Lee bandaged Ryan’s wrists, and put his arms in slings. He gave him some pain medication, and told him to take the slings off and use his arms as the pain diminished.
I took Ryan home.
When we went inside, Lily ran and clung to Ryan, asked him what happened. He said that he’d hurt his arms and had to go to the hospital.
Eventually, Ryan convinced her to let go of him, and he took a three-hour nap. He got up to take a pain pill, and was finally able to talk. Because the kidnapping happened on the Nevada side, I called Diamond to let him know that Ryan was awake. Diamond came to take a statement.
