Inside the Echo

by Jen Blood

  Justin would do this.

  Justin would love a game like this.

  However, Justin wouldn’t be up for parole for another five years.

  This couldn’t be him.

  “Regardless of whether it’s your husband or not,” she said to Ava, “we have to do something. We’ll freeze or starve if we don’t. We can’t just sit here waiting for that to happen.”

  Ava stood abruptly. She walked away, moving to a small window on the other side of the room. Careful to stay to the side of the glass, Megan noted. They had two small oil lanterns going, the only sources of light in an otherwise dark space. Of course, that would be all it took to alert someone if there was, in fact, a man out there looking for them.

  “I’ve been talking to her about this,” Violet said, voice lower now. “Someone needs to go get help, and I think it should be me. I know these woods better than Ava, and I’m more used to the cold. If we’ve found shelter, we can’t possibly be that far off the beaten path.”

  Megan hated to argue, but she was afraid the opposite could be true: a shelter this primitive was built by someone with no need for creature comforts. Who knew how long someone might stay in a place like this, as far from others as humanly possible?

  Before she could respond, Recluse’s head came up abruptly, a low growl in his throat. At the same time, Ava gasped at the window.

  “Douse the lanterns,” she hissed to Violet. Recluse got up and padded over to the window, hackles raised. Fear ran through Megan in a wave, pain close on its heels.

  “What is it?” Megan hissed back, even as Violet turned the dials on each of the lanterns in turn and the flames flickered out. The room went black around them.

  “He’s out there,” Ava whispered. It sounded like she was talking to herself as much as anyone else. A flurry of Spanish followed, whispered under her breath – a prayer, Megan thought.

  “We don’t know it’s him,” Megan insisted. “It could be a search party.”

  No one replied. In the sudden stillness, Megan heard the crunch of footsteps on the snow. Recluse’s growl deepened, until Violet knelt beside the dog and wrapped her arms around him, trying to quiet him. A branch snapped, not far from the window.

  The silence that followed was so loaded that Megan thought she’d explode from the tension alone. Then, as though someone had whispered it in her ear, she knew:

  It wasn’t the searchers out there.

  Something was about to happen.

  “Get down!” she shouted, an instant before the nightmare started all over again.

  Violet and Ava both dove to the ground, Violet pulling Recluse with her. Megan was trapped on the bed with nowhere to hide, no way to move, when the bullet pierced the glass and the window shattered.

  He’d found them.

  #

  Megan lay flat on the bed, paralyzed, waiting for the next shot to come. For some masked man to appear in the open window. For something to happen that would put an end to this nightmare.

  There was nothing.

  Wind and snow gusted in, chilling them all. Recluse continued to growl, but Violet kept a tight hold on him.

  “What’s happening out there?” Megan whispered to the others.

  Recluse escaped from Violet’s grasp at Megan’s voice, but thankfully made no move for the open window. Instead, he went straight to Megan. A step into the journey, he paused with ears up. Megan listened as well, hearing the sound an instant before Recluse started barking.

  Dogs.

  They were far off, but unmistakable.

  “Can you see any lights out there?” she asked Violet.

  She crawled carefully over the broken glass and peered into the night, keeping her head low. “All I see are trees,” she said. “And snow. No sign of anyone else out there now, though.”

  “He must have gotten spooked,” Megan said. “The searchers are out there right now, I just know it. It sounds like maybe they found someone.” She thought briefly of Heather, and sent up a quick prayer that her sister was safe. That she and the baby got out of this alive, whatever might happen to Megan.

  “Can you send up a flare or something?” Violet asked. “Some way of letting people know we’re here?”

  “We could if we had one to send up. You don’t happen to have one in your back pocket, do you?”

  Violet shook her head regretfully, and they turned their attention to Ava. She’d been silent through most of this. Now that Megan tuned in to the other woman, she realized something was definitely wrong. Something beyond being pinned down by a psychopath in the dead of winter in the Maine woods, that is.

  “He’s playing games,” Ava said. The words came in a low whisper, terror palpable in her voice. Her dark eyes were luminous, almost ethereal in the moonlight.

  “Who’s playing games?” Violet asked.

  “Frank. My husband. This is what he does – he likes to play. He shoots Megan but doesn’t kill her; tracks us through the night; shoots again, forcing us into the open so he can track us again.”

  “Or else he’s just really shitty at his job,” Megan said. She knew she should be more patient, more sympathetic to Ava’s fear, but right now she didn’t have it in her.

  “No,” Ava insisted. “I know him. This is his way of making me pay.”

  Megan thought of the games Justin had played with her over the years: subtle little comments, barely discernible moves, and then the sudden explosions – all designed to terrify and control.

  “Maybe so,” Megan conceded. “But we’re not going to let him win. We’re not even going to play the game.”

  “How?” Ava hissed. “You should let me go out there. Let me give up. Maybe if I just go with him, he won’t hurt you.” She shook her head. “I never should have tried to leave him.”

  Recluse stood again, eyes back on the open window. Megan felt a fresh surge of adrenaline. “We can’t stay in here unarmed,” she said. “Right now, our only hope is to get out there and find help before the shooter finds us again.”

  “What if he’s out there waiting for us, though?” Violet insisted.

  Megan hesitated. She had no answers, no ideas. Right now she only knew what her gut was telling her: if they stayed in this cabin a minute longer, they would die here.

  “You trust me, right?” she asked the two women. She thought suddenly of Hogan. He’d asked her that once, not so long ago. Do you trust me? He’d been frustrated with her non-answer, her inability to just believe in him.

  Here and now, though, the two women nodded without hesitation. She would not betray that trust, no matter what it took. Not as long as she was still breathing.

  “Then trust me on this,” she said, ignoring the pain as she hauled herself out of bed. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

  Violet and Ava exchanged a look, some silent exchange that Megan couldn’t read, before both women nodded.

  “Whatever you say,” Violet said. “We’re with you.”

  “Good.” It was all Megan could manage as she levered herself up off the bed, one hand on Recluse’s sturdy shoulder to steady herself. “Then let’s go.”

  Chapter 9

  Flint K-9 Search and Rescue

  February 4, 11:30 p.m.

  “WE NEVER SAW ANYTHING,” Shonda said an hour later, when the women were being debriefed in the Maine Warden Service mobile unit. Hogan had asked me to stay behind to download my notes and coordinates for the day. Now, I sat a curtain away from Shonda as the detective in charge from the state police walked her through the events of the past twenty-four hours. I’d sent Jack back to the lodge with Casper and the promise that I would finish up as soon as I could.

  “You’re sure it was a he, then?” the detective asked. “How do you know?”

  There was a pause before she replied. “Well… I don’t, I guess. I mean, somebody starts shooting at you all of a sudden in the middle of the woods, you just kind of assume it’s some asshole man, don’t you?”

  “So the shooter never s
aid anything.”

  “Nope. Didn’t say a thing.”

  “And the first shot he fired was at the instructor: Megan Hunter. Was there any possibility that he could have been firing at someone else?”

  “Far as I could tell he was shooting at anything that moved – didn’t matter whether it was Megan or Heather or someone else.”

  “But you’re sure he hit Ms. Hunter.”

  “I’m not sure of much of anything that happened after that, you want the truth. Shots came out of the woods, Recluse knocked Megan down, there was a whole lot of screaming, and then everybody just started running.”

  “And the four women who haven’t been found yet: Megan, Violet Carter, Gabriella Garcia, and Ava…” He paused, and I heard a shuffling of paperwork as he confirmed the last name, “Jones. Where were they when this happened?”

  “We were all heading out to try and find Gabby and Ava – that’s the only reason everybody was dressed. Violet was sharing a tent with them, and I guess Gabby was sick. So Ava went to find her, but she never came back. So Violet went to look for them, couldn’t find ’em, and came back to get the rest of us. So I don’t know where Gabby and Ava were. Violet was right there, though – I saw her go back for Megan before I took off with the others.”

  There was a pause, the detective still shuffling through paperwork, before Shonda cleared her throat. “When we were holed up in the cave, we started thinking about who it could be. I mean, it’s not like any of us are married to angels, but you’ve gotta be a special kind of psycho to go in for something like this.”

  I came to attention. The detective’s voice, likewise, took on a new energy. “Did you come up with any suspects in particular?”

  “You want a list?” Shonda asked. “Everybody on that course is married to a nut job who’ll do violence rather than lose them. You got Gabriella and her famous football husband – you know him, right? Maybe he wouldn’t get his hands dirty himself, but he could sure hire somebody to come out here. My ex is too lazy for something like this, but he wouldn’t waste any tears knowing it happened.” She paused, and I sensed something more coming before she spoke again.

  “You might want to check out Ava, though,” she said.

  “Ava Jones?” the detective prompted. “That Ava?”

  “That’s the name she gave. I don’t think it’s her real name, though – a couple of us were talking about it. She’s from Mexico, then moved to Miami with her ex. English isn’t her first language. Not exactly the ‘Jones’ type, you know what I’m saying? And she told us some stories…”

  “What kind of stories?” the detective asked.

  “Not great ones,” Shonda said. “At first, we thought she was full of it. I mean, everybody out there had some pretty crappy memories, but Ava’s were different.”

  “In what way?” the detective asked, with impressive patience.

  The pause this time was longer, and I wished I could see Shonda’s face as she thought through the question.

  “He’s a bad guy,” she finally said. “I mean – like, professionally. Ava told us the second night in that he hurt people for a living. It was a big risk her taking the boys – she’s got three sons, you know – from him, but she’d finally had enough. So she took the kids, and she disappeared.”

  The story stopped me. Why would Ava go to the trouble of taking her kids and escaping only to risk that by enrolling in an expedition like this?

  Before I could hear the detective’s response, Hogan returned. “You ready to get out of here?” he asked. He looked exhausted, and I wondered when he’d gotten a full night’s sleep last. Before Megan went missing, I suspected.

  I couldn’t exactly shush him so I could keep eavesdropping, so I nodded and got to my aching feet once more. “Definitely. You look like you could use a break yourself.”

  “I’m fine,” he said shortly. “The IC wants me to hit my bunk for a couple of hours, but then I’m headed right back out.”

  That didn’t sound like the best idea to me, but I chose not to push him on it. As we were leaving, Hogan checked in with the detective questioning Shonda. While the two men were talking, I smiled at the woman, still seated in front of the desk.

  “Thanks again for everything you did for the others,” I said. “You did a great job out there. Your patients are lucky to have you.”

  “I’ll be glad to get back to them,” she said, then managed a weary laugh. “You know things are bad if I’m saying something like that. The job’s been driving me crazy, the last few months. Now, I can’t wait to get back.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be glad to have you again.” I glanced at the detective, now busy with Hogan. “The questions shouldn’t take much longer. Then make sure you get some rest tonight.”

  She shivered. “I don’t know if I’ll ever sleep again. I just keep hearing that sound – that gunshot. Seeing Megan go down. Last thing I want to do about now is close my eyes.”

  “I know,” I said. “And I know it’s hard to believe, but sleep will help. And time.” I thought about that for a second, remembering my own experiences after Brock died. “Mostly time. Be patient with yourself.”

  “I’ll do what I do,” she said, with a shrug. “I got patients at work, kids at home. Lot of reasons to keep myself together and keep going.”

  Hogan returned before I could respond. “You ready?” he asked me.

  “Definitely,” I said. I wished Shonda a final goodbye and made for the exit, then was so tired I nearly face planted on my way down the steps. Hogan caught me by the arm before I hit the ground.

  “You should take your own advice and get some sleep,” he said. “You’re every bit as exhausted as I am.”

  “I need to get back to the house, see how everything’s going there. I left Bear alone in a ski lodge with his very pretty seventeen-year-old BFF for the better part of the past six hours. I’m thinking it’s about time I make an appearance.”

  “Probably smart,” he agreed, then hesitated. “Listen, they’re serving late dinners over at this local place in town – the Funky Red Barn. Kind of a dive, but I hear they serve a great veggie burger there. Meals are free for searchers, and they’re staying open till midnight. If you get home and find there’s nothing in the pantry…”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  There were so many things I wanted to say to him. He’d left the police department shortly after Brock’s death, but I often wondered if things would have been different if I had asked him to stay. There had never been anything overtly romantic between Hogan and me, despite what Brock may have thought, but there had undeniably been feelings there – on both our parts, I thought. With the insanity of Brock’s death and the investigation that followed, though, my focus had been on getting Bear through the worst of it all. I had never regretted that decision, but I had wondered about Hogan over the years. Had he thought about me? Been tempted to call? What had he been doing in the eight years since we’d seen each other last?

  And what, really, was his relationship with Megan Hunter?

  “All right, then,” he said, when I said nothing more. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good work today.”

  “You too,” I said.

  And, with so much more to say and no idea how to say any of it, I headed back toward the lodge.

  It was a short walk, the dark sky too cloudy for stars overhead. Just before I reached my destination, I realized something was off. First of all, every light in the house appeared to be on. So much for Bear and Ren getting to bed early.

  As I turned onto the walk leading to the front door, the dogs went berserk inside. I heard Michelle shout a couple of choice expletives that didn’t slow anyone down in the least, and picked up the pace. I managed a painful jog up the front steps, and Michelle opened the door before my hand was even on the knob.

  “Hey,” she said. She looked surprised. She had her boots and jacket on, gloves in her hand. “Sorry, didn’t realize you were there. The dogs have been going ballistic at ever
ything that moves ever since we got home. I didn’t expect they actually heard something real this time.”

  “It’s pretty busy out here,” I said. “Lots to hear, with everyone coming and going in the search. Where are you going?”

  The corporal I’d met earlier stepped up. Charlie, I recalled. Apparently, he was the sixth in the house. “They’re serving free food at a local place, so we figured we’d take advantage while we could. Michelle and I are going back out in a couple of hours. We want to fuel up while we can.” He glanced farther into the house, toward something just out of my line of sight, and lowered his voice. “And to be honest, it’s not exactly a party in this place.”

  I stepped past the threshold and looked around. Whippet and Casper were up and intent on mauling me, while Phantom lay sedately by the woodstove. She waved her tail slightly and raised her head to acknowledge me, then lay it back down again.

  Meanwhile, now that I was inside I could see that the big-screen TV in the great room was on, the volume up. Bear sat alone watching what looked like an old Austin Powers movie. The fact that he was still up, the volume was high, and he was sitting with his arms folded over his chest and his jaw set all clued me into one thing:

  Things hadn’t gone well tonight.

  And, my kid was mad as a teenage hornet.

  “Do you mind waiting a minute?” I asked Michelle. “We might join you.”

  “Of course,” she assured me, then kept her voice low when she added, “Ren’s in her room. Bear’s not talking, but things definitely didn’t go according to plan here.”

  I didn’t even want to think about what that plan might have been, though I could guess what Michelle and Charlie probably thought it was. “Give me two minutes,” I said. “I promise, if I haven’t gotten things figured out by then you can go without me.”

  “No problem.” Michelle gave me a sympathetic tip of the head. “Sorry – I know you’re tired.”

  “It’s what I signed up for when I had the kid. I’ll be right back.”