by Jen Blood
It was good to see him lightening up a little. A minute later, he called Casper back and the two headed back to the lodge. I resisted calling Phantom yet, enjoying the stillness of the morning. The shepherd kept close by now that we were on our own, her attention split between me and the sounds and smells of the wilderness around. I welcomed the peace, grateful that no familiar voices whispered to me in the darkness this time.
Regardless, I kept looking for some threat.
You know I’ll always find you, baby girl. The words sounded again in my head, the low rasp grating along the base of my spine.
Was the shooter someone Megan knew? She had been the first victim, after all. According to Chase, her ex-husband was still in prison. Ava and Gabriella, however, both had husbands with pretty dire reputations. It could have been one of them, and Megan was simply in the way.
If the words I was hearing hadn’t actually been spoken by Brock, and I was in fact hearing the shooter, did that mean I had information I should be giving the police? By saying nothing rather than coming forward, was I putting Megan and the others in even more danger?
Phantom meandered back over to me as I pondered, clearly bored now. The relatively warm air meant I had yet to get chilled, but my stomach was rumbling and time was marching on. Definitely time to get inside.
“You’re right,” I said. “We’ll go in and get some breakfast, get on with our day.”
She sat and tipped her head to the right, eyes intent on mine. The difference between her and the other dogs really was amazing. As much as I loved every dog on our team, there was a bond with Phantom that I had never experienced with another animal. A sense of understanding, of trust, that I worried I would never find with another K-9 partner.
“She’s a beautiful dog,” a woman said behind me. I turned, startled. Phantom stood, eying the newcomer with suspicion, but she didn’t bark.
Sally Price, the senator’s wife, halted her advance, tensing slightly at the dog’s posture.
“Thank you,” I said. “She’s a great partner.”
Sally took a hesitant step forward. “May I pet her?”
“Of course,” I said, then shifted focus to Phantom. “Say hi, girl.”
With the requisite permission to advance, the shepherd’s posture relaxed. Tail wagging, she trotted over and allowed Sally to lay a hesitant hand on her head.
“Is she purebred?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I found her at a shelter in Georgia. She didn’t exactly come with papers.”
“I see,” Sally murmured, gently stroking Phantom’s silky fur. I was relieved when she offered a pained smile. The deep circles under her eyes belied a long night, and her red, swollen eyes suggested she’d been crying recently. A little comfort from a friendly four-legged couldn’t hurt.
After a few seconds of silence, she returned her focus to me. “I was just getting some fresh air. The suite feels too stuffy with the three of us crammed in there together.”
“You’re staying with Chase, then.”
“Of course. He’s part of the family.” Was I imagining the bitterness in those words?
“I’m sure he must be beside himself about Violet,” I said.
She turned to look at me at that, a furrow in her brow, her eyes shadowed. She wore a white fur hat and a white parka with fur at the cuffs and hood, with matching, tailored white ski pants. The ensemble probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.
“He must be,” she agreed, without conviction. She seemed scattered, detached, and I wondered if she’d taken something. She’d stopped petting Phantom, appearing to forget the dog was even there.
“Do they have any theories about the shooter?” she asked me after a few seconds. I looked at her, surprised, as the image of the man in black from my dream flashed through my mind.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t really talk about the investigation – not that they’ve shared any of it with me anyway. But the police take this kind of thing very seriously. You need to speak with them if you’re looking for information.”
“They won’t tell me anything,” she said. Her voice broke. I thought of the agony I’d gone through when Bear was in danger in Glastenbury last fall. Would I be doing anything differently than this woman, in her place? “I’m just trying to find out what’s going on with my daughter. What Chase said…”
“What did Chase say?” I prompted.
“It’s not…” She sighed, then lowered her voice when she spoke again, as though sharing some shameful secret. “Violet had some problems when she was younger. We don’t talk about them – she’s worked hard to overcome that period, but her work in Washington makes it clear that period had an impact on her life.”
I didn’t press her despite my interest, instead letting her tell the story in her own time.
“Violet was hospitalized when she was younger, her first year of college. She’d always been a high achiever, and I think the pressure of an Ivy League school was more than she had anticipated. We learned that she was…hurting herself. Cutting?” Her eyes welled at the memory, and I felt a tug of sympathy. “We got her the very best care, of course, and she was released after a week. After that, she began seeing a therapist.”
“It’s not uncommon for girls to have issues like that, especially if they put a lot of pressure on themselves,” I said. “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but I’m not sure I see the connection to what’s happening now.”
“I’m sorry. I know I’m not doing this very well – I’m not used to talking about any of this.” She took a deep breath, working herself up to whatever it was she wanted to say. “While Violet was in therapy, some issues came up. Regarding her father.” She fell silent.
“What kind of issues?” I prompted, when she didn’t continue.
“He could be strict – hard at times, with both of us. He was just trying to be a good father, a good husband, but he had no idea the impact it had on Violet. As soon as she came to him, the three of us began seeing a family counselor. It could have ruined his career, but he didn’t care; he did everything he could to make sure she knew how much he loved her. It made a huge difference, for all of us.”
“And what happened from there?”
“Violet went back to school, and she excelled even more than before. She met Megan – the two were fast friends by sophomore year, and have remained close since then. There was a peace to her that I’d never seen. The whole thing set a fire in her, though, and she became passionate about helping women and girls in abusive situations.”
“When did she and Chase get together?” I asked.
Sally frowned, an expression so fleeting that I second guessed myself the moment it was gone. “She met Chase shortly after graduating – his friend introduced them. He was an actor, you know. And a Maine Guide. An entrepreneur. Horse breeder. Inventor. Now, he wants to be a politician. The curse of being born with money – that’s what Violet always says. Though from what I gather, he’s gone through most of that now.”
She hesitated. I waited for her to complete her thought, sensing that something was coming. “He was orphaned when he was a teenager; his parents died in a fire. And his first wife was killed, too. Did you know that?”
The revelation stopped me. I fought to remain steady, unable to forget the feeling I’d gotten the first time I’d set eyes on the man. “I didn’t know,” I said, working to keep a level tone. “That must have been hard for him.”
“Yes,” she said distractedly. “It must have. He’ll tell you that it was, if you ask. He’ll even cry, sometimes.”
The pause went on for nearly thirty seconds this time, until I finally spoke up. “Sally, what exactly are you trying to tell me?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Robert was always a good father to Violet – he adores her. You have no idea how sorry he was when he realized how badly he’d frightened her when she was a child. He’s spent years trying to make that up to her. And Cha
se is a good husband. He says all the right things.”
It struck me as a strange thing to say. “But…” I prompted, when she fell silent.
“No buts,” she insisted. “He is. They’re the perfect couple. He’s the perfect man.” She stopped.
“If he’s the perfect man, why are you talking to me right now? Clearly something is bothering you.”
“There you are!” a voice called from the woods. At the sound of Chase’s voice, Sally flinched. He jogged toward us, but slowed to a walk when Phantom came to attention at his approach.
“Steady, girl,” I said, not willing to completely call her off just yet.
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Chase said, once he’d reached us. “I was worried, seeing you leave the room so early this morning.”
“I just needed some fresh air, Chase. I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” He studied me a moment, with a strangely calculating gaze. “What are you ladies talking about? It looked pretty serious.”
“My daughter is missing,” Sally said, in a withering tone. “You expected us to be trading sewing tips?” Chase said nothing for as much as a second, awkwardness building between us. “I’m sorry,” Sally said. “We’re all so worried right now – I didn’t mean to be rude.”
The apology was delivered to me as much as Chase, and I was struck by the way she was looking at her son-in-law. Or not looking at him, actually. Even when speaking directly to him, she wouldn’t meet his eye. It reminded me of some scene from the wild: the more submissive animals in most species will avoid direct eye contact with a dominant member of the pack. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Sally was doing everything possible to avoid the impression that she was challenging her son-in-law.
“We were just talking about the search,” I said. “I’ll be headed out again soon, and I was telling Sally a little about what my team does.”
“Ah. Well, I appreciate you taking the time to talk about that. I know you must be very busy.”
Chase put his arm around Sally’s shoulders. She stiffened. Phantom stood, hackles raised, her focus on the man who now stood between Sally and me.
“I think we’d better go, Sally,” Chase said. We need to let Jamie get to work. I’ll take you over to the dining hall. Breakfast is on.”
“She’s fine,” I said. I glared at his arm until he removed it from around his mother-in-law’s thin shoulders, though he put no distance between himself and the woman. “I was headed over there myself anyway. We’ll just go there together.”
“That’s all right,” Sally said quickly. She didn’t even look at me, casting a sideways glance in Chase’s direction. “He’s right, I should let you go. I’m sure my husband is worried about me.”
“If there’s anything more you’d like to talk about,” I said, “please, don’t hesitate to come to me. We’re staying right next door, at the ski lodge. If I’m not there, someone else will be.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. “It will be fine once Violet’s home. Just find her. Please.”
“I’ll do everything I can,” I promised.
Chase began walking away, his hand at Sally’s back – not quite touching her, but I got the sense that was only because I was watching.
“Thanks again for your hard work, Jamie,” Chase said over his shoulder as he departed. “We appreciate everything you’re doing. We won’t bother you again.”
Before I could insist that it had been no bother, they were moving back up the trail.
Once they had gone, Phantom and I headed back to the lodge ourselves. After the strange encounter, I was eager to get back on the search as soon as possible. I had no idea how the higher-ups may have scheduled the day, but I hoped plenty of field time would be included. Right now, all I wanted to do was get out there with my dog and do our job.
Chapter 13
Wildfire Expeditions
February 5, 8:30 a.m.
OVER THE COURSE OF THE MORNING, Megan, Violet, and Ava struggled on some of the most rugged terrain in the Mahoosucs. By the time they finally reached relatively even ground, they were exhausted, with mouths parched and stomachs rumbling. Even here, they had to watch out for tree roots just beneath the snow or low-hanging branches that seemed to reach for them with deadly intent.
“If we ever get out of here,” Violet announced at one point, “I’m going for the biggest, juiciest burger you’ve ever seen in your life. And lobster. And cake.” She groaned. “Oh, God. Cake.”
Personally, the thought of food wasn’t what spurred Megan on – in fact, the mere mention turned her stomach. The idea of home, on the other hand, pushed her forward. She’d been dreaming for months of the day when her nephew came into the world. If she had anything to say about it, she would be there for that. And her nephew wasn’t the only guy on her mind. Two days before leaving on the expedition, Hogan had asked her to go to Boston with him. She’d been so flustered she’d almost laughed out loud.
“Why would we go to Boston?”
He’d shrugged, looking a little flustered himself. “There’s an exhibit at the Science Museum – the evolution of man’s best friend through the ages. I thought maybe we could get some dinner, make a night of it.”
She’d actually been wanting to make it to that exhibit. And it wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in going with Hogan; they were friends. Good friends, as a matter of fact, when they weren’t driving each other crazy. But going to Boston with him? Dinner, the museum, the long ride home afterward. Maybe things would run late, and he’d want to spend the night there. In a hotel. With her.
A few days ago, the thought of dealing with that had almost blown her mind. Now, she wished she could go back there and kick her own cowardly ass. She was lost in the woods with a psycho hunting her down. What she wouldn’t give if the biggest thing she had to face was her first date with Hogan – something that, if she were being honest, had been featured in daydreams a lot lately.
Despite the sun climbing higher in the sky, Megan wasn’t getting any warmer. Her head ached and her side burned from the gunshot graze, which she was afraid might be getting infected. Recluse walked alongside her, his fur matted now, his gait no longer as easy as it had been when they’d first started this ill-fated WildFire expedition. How many days ago had that been? Five? Six? More? It felt like a lifetime.
Megan scanned the forest, taking full advantage of daylight. They weren’t far from the river now, she knew. Occasional, earth-shaking booms vibrated the ground beneath their feet – the ice shifting as it melted. They were close. She just wished they could find some of those many searchers who should be looking for them.
She spotted something on a ragged, somewhat lopsided spruce tree, and paused.
“What is it?” Ava asked her.
She reached up and plucked the object from the branch, her forehead furrowed. A closer examination of the area revealed others, at a rate of one tie every twenty trees or so.
“Are we on private property?” Violet asked. “Or are these just to mark the trails in the area?”
“Trails are marked with paint blazes on the rocks and trees,” Megan said. “They wouldn’t use plastic ties. And no one would mark private property this way.”
Which meant one thing: the searchers had been out here. They’d marked the area off to indicate where they’d looked. Would they come back if they had already been here? How far away could they possibly be by now, even if they had moved on?
Old Speck was just ahead of them. There was no way in hell any of them could handle climbing the mountain at this point, too weak from cold, fear, and lack of food, water, and rest. In the best of circumstances, she considered it the perfect way to spend a weekend. Now, though, she seriously doubted she had the strength.
“We can’t be far from searchers by now,” she said to the others. “Let’s continue up this trail a little farther and see if we can find anyone.”
Ava and Violet agreed, though neither seemed to have strength
for more than a grunt. Recluse glanced up at her, tail waving briefly, and waited for Megan to lead the way.
Suddenly, the dog went stiff. His ears came up, head tilted to the left. Megan watched the fur stand up along the ridge of his back, the dog growling all the while.
“Stop,” she whispered to the others.
The three of them froze. Megan wrapped her hand around Recluse’s collar, and held on tight.
Somewhere close by, she could hear someone moving through the brush. It wasn’t an animal – the footsteps and the rustling of branches were too lumbering for that. Ava started to speak, but Megan put her finger up to her mouth. They stood like that for at least three minutes as they listened to the sounds move farther and farther away, never sure whether they were in fact hearing the shooter.
Another five minutes ticked by. Then ten. Recluse had relaxed. The forest sounds Megan heard now, she was sure, were native to these woods. The monster had gone.
Maybe their luck was turning. They’d been able to rest in the cabin; not much, but enough to get them through another day. People would still be looking. Recluse was still with them. And the wind and occasional flurries meant that any tracks they left on top of the solid-crusted snow were obliterated almost as soon as they left them, making tracking them that much harder.
“Should we keep going?” Violet finally asked, breaking the silence.
Megan nodded. They’d been still for so long that her limbs ached once she got them moving again. They walked on regardless, Megan’s hand resting at the top of Recluse’s head.
#
An hour later, they were headed down a darkened path slick with snow and ice when Megan heard the sound of an engine in the distance. Recluse tensed beside her, while a rush of excitement sent a surge of much-needed adrenaline through her veins. Violet grabbed her arm, the woman’s blue eyes wide.
“Do you hear that?”
Megan nodded, unable to hide her own excitement. “It’s a snowmobile,” she whispered, then gestured toward a patch of trees just off the trail. “Go in there – hide until they get here. I don’t want anyone getting run over.” She didn’t say what she knew they were all thinking: if it wasn’t searchers, if it was in fact the shooter, she wanted to make sure they had a chance to get away.
