Inside the Echo

by Jen Blood

  “He climbed out before I could stop him,” Jack said.

  “I told you, I’m not hurt,” the man said. His speech was slurred, ragged, and blood still oozed from a gash in his head. Definitely a concussion, at the very least. “I need to get back. My boss is going to kill me.” He looked at me, awareness slowly sinking in. “What about that lady? Is she okay?”

  “We don’t know how she is,” I said. “I’m going to find her now.”

  Phantom left my side and approached the injured man with her head down, tail waving slowly.

  “What’s your name?” I asked the man, for the second time that morning.

  “Corey,” he said. Phantom sat down beside him and licked his face, not a move she was known for with strangers. Corey pet her head, eyes sinking shut. I watched the calm I knew so well descend on the man as he focused on the dog, his ragged breath gradually evening out. “Corey Haskell.” He opened his eyes and met my gaze, tears welling once more. “I didn’t even see her coming.”

  “There was nothing you could do,” I told him honestly. “This isn’t your fault.”

  He lay his head against Phantom’s neck, blood and snow and tears mixing in the dog’s fur. Phantom sat, tail still waving slowly, and I wondered at the empathy of dogs, as I have countless times in my life.

  “I’m going to look for Sally,” I said to Jack, speaking low to keep from disturbing the unfolding scene.

  “I’ll come too,” Jack said.

  “That’s all right. Just stay here, keep everyone together.”

  “What if you need help with the rescue?”

  “I’ll bring the radio, and keep in contact. Come after me as soon as emergency vehicles arrive.”

  “Stay safe.”

  I nodded grimly, my mind stuck on that patch of blood and hair we’d found on Sally’s windshield. What the hell had she been doing out here. “I’ll do my best.”

  #

  I took Phantom with me as far as the SUV, the grinding in my stomach growing with every step. Once we reached the vehicle, I wrangled the door open and found a pair of women’s gloves on the floor of the passenger’s seat. Sally’s, I presumed.

  I took them out and let Phantom take a good, long whiff, then bagged them in one of the Ziploc baggies I carry with me. I looked at my dog as she stood in the snow, head up, tail at half mast, ears perked. She was ready.

  “Okay, girl,” I said. “Find her!” My voice shook with the words, in time with my body. I forced myself to pull it together. Focused on my dog as she raised her head, nostrils flared, oblivious to the snow that continued to fall.

  She trotted toward the guardrail. I followed along behind, managing to stay on my feet through sheer stubbornness as I skated along behind her on the slick pavement.

  It took just under five minutes before Phantom locked on scent. She continued along the embankment, head up, and then paused suddenly. I watched as she held her nose high, nostrils quivering, ears tipped forward. Then, she maneuvered past the guardrail and began making her way down the steep embankment.

  Phantom glanced back at me, a question in her eyes before her gaze returned to the ravine.

  “Stop,” I said. She froze. Sat. Waited until I reached her.

  “She’s down there, girl?”

  She turned intelligent eyes on me and barked, twice. I had no doubt: Sally Price was there.

  Phantom and I half walked, half slid down the embankment beside the guardrail. The woods were thick here. I didn’t understand how Sally ended up out this far, but I knew enough to trust my dog. Despite the fresh powder, the underlying blanket of snow was still solid. Phantom was able to trot along on top without a problem, something I was grateful for. Regardless, I knew this wouldn’t take long.

  Sure enough, it was only another three minutes before Phantom paused. She glanced back at me, then at the snow in front of her. My stomach turned. There was a blood trail on the ground, the snow compacted as though someone had dragged herself – or been dragged – deeper into the woods.

  “Keep going, Phan,” I said. “Find her.” My mouth was dry. I followed more slowly than I usually would, dreading what we were about to find.

  Ten feet later, Phantom led me to Sally Price.

  The senator’s wife lay on her back at the end of the blood trail in the snow, eyes closed. Why had she left the vehicle? What had she been running from? Or to? I knelt in the snow beside the woman, giving Phantom only perfunctory praise for her find before I focused on our victim.

  Blood ran down her face from a deep gash in her scalp, where her head had hit the windshield. I was dimly aware of sirens approaching, the realization that help had arrived, but my attention returned quickly to the woman before me.

  “Sally?” I said. I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t respond to my voice, but I continued searching for vital signs until I found a faint pulse at her throat. “Sally!” I said again. I shook her lightly, trying to get her to come to, and then radioed Jack to let him know where I was before beginning CPR.

  I ran through the training in my head, starting with thirty chest compressions. I’d finished the first cycle when I became aware of voices in the distance – Jack and the paramedics, as he briefed them on the situation. They would be here soon.

  And then, bubbling up from the earth like some insipid black tar, I heard laughter.

  Low and familiar.

  Are we having fun yet, sweetheart? Brock asked me.

  This wasn’t someone with his voice anymore, I was sure of it. This was him.

  I ignored him and continued working on Sally Price’s inert body, though his voice echoed in my head. What did he want?

  The instant I thought it, his answer came.

  I want you to tell them the truth, he said. I want you to stop lying. I want you to pay for what you did to me. What you took.

  I put my ear down to Sally’s chest, listening for any sign of a heartbeat. Would Brock appear to me now? Take physical form? Punish me, in ways I knew he’d dreamed about when he was alive?

  “Sally!” a voice called, before I could reply to the ghost now haunting me. This voice was fully grounded in the real world, though. Young. Masculine. Phantom stood beside me, and I noted with surprise that her hackles were raised. In response to Brock, or this new presence?

  Someone rustled in the underbrush, shouting Sally’s name again, and Phantom tensed further. So this wasn’t a reaction to Brock, then. The voice was sickeningly familiar, and I knew exactly who it was well before the brush parted and Chase Carter stepped into view.

  I caught a glimpse of his face as I continued working on his mother-in-law’s body, and I watched something cross his face at the sight.

  Delight.

  Pure, unadulterated delight.

  The look vanished, but only just, when he realized I’d seen him.

  “She just took off,” he said, out of breath. “I’d tracked her down with you and I was going to have breakfast with her in the dining hall. But the next thing I knew, she was gone again. Then I heard about the accident.” He stopped. “Is she alive? What can I do?”

  The paramedics arrived before I could answer, taking over for me as I gave them a rundown of what I’d found and what I’d done thus far. Jack joined me, his hand at my back, and I was honestly prepared to stand there and watch Sally Price die.

  Instead, the paramedics worked for less than a minute before a stocky man monitoring her vitals ordered them to stop.

  “We’ve got a heartbeat,” he said to the others. “Get her to the bus.”

  Sally still wasn’t moving, certainly wasn’t conscious, but my own pulse sped at the implication. She might actually survive this. I suddenly, desperately wanted Sally Price to survive.

  Chase remained beside us after the paramedics had gone, rather than insisting on going with them to be with his mother-in-law. Jack and I walked with him back topside, my adrenaline still pumping after the rescue.

  “I can’t believe this,” Chase said eventually, when w
e were back at the road. Jack had returned to Bear and Ren, leaving Phantom and I alone with Chase for the moment.

  “Do you have any idea why she would have gone to the WildFire camp?” I asked.

  “Is that where she was? I don’t have a clue. She just…left. We were talking about Violet and Megan, and she said something about wanting to talk to the other women on the expedition. I told her she shouldn’t be driving in her state.”

  His gaze returned to me, complete innocence in the words. But I hadn’t imagined the look I had seen on his face when he’d first set eyes on Sally’s body, I was sure of it. He might be a good actor, but there was no question in my mind that what I was seeing now was anything but authentic emotion.

  “Did she say what she wanted to talk to them about?” I asked. “What was so important that she couldn’t use the phone? Or wait until they came to the lodge – I’m sure someone would have been onsite at search headquarters at some point today.”

  “She didn’t mention anything. Frankly, she probably said more to you today than she did to me. What did you talk about?”

  “I already told you,” I said. I didn’t care for the way he was looking at me, the pressure I felt in his words. “We talked about the search. And she gave me some information she thought might be helpful in looking for Violet.”

  “What information?”

  “A little about Violet’s background.” I paused. “A little about your background.”

  If I hadn’t been watching for the reaction, I wouldn’t have noticed a fleeting moment of tension before it vanished. “What did she say about my background?” he asked, trying to laugh it off. “I don’t see how that could help you find my wife.”

  “She said you’ve lost some people in your life. I’m sorry about that,” I added. “It must make what’s happening with Violet that much harder.”

  He held my eye, though I saw what appeared to be genuine pain on his face now. “You have no idea what it’s been like, from the moment I heard she was missing. I don’t know what Sally might have implied about my past, but I love my wife. I would do anything to get her back.”

  The last was said with actual tears standing in his eyes. Phantom remained vigilant by my side, though, and I couldn’t shake the memory of the look I’d seen on his face when he saw me working on Sally. The feeling I got when we first shook hands.

  “Do you have a name you call your wife?” I asked. “Like a term of endearment? Honey? Sweetheart?”

  His forehead furrowed. For the first time I got the sense I was seeing a genuine, unfiltered reaction from him. “Of course – doesn’t everyone? It’s something a little more intimate than I care to share—”

  “Baby girl,” I guessed.

  He cringed. “God, no. Vivvy – I call Violet Vivvy. The only person I’ve ever heard use something as crass as ‘baby girl’ is Justin.”

  It felt like an actual electric current ran through me. I imagined it as the same feeling the dogs got when they finally caught odor on a trail.

  “Justin, as in Megan’s ex-husband?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And you said he’s still in prison?”

  “The last I knew.” He hedged, watching me closely now. “I can’t be sure, though. We haven’t stayed in touch.”

  I didn’t believe that for a second. Hogan and a group of wardens arrived on scene then, and I fought between relief at no longer being alone with Chase and annoyance that I could ask no more questions. One thing was certain, though: the first thing I planned to do was double check to make sure Megan’s ex-husband really was still safely locked away in prison.

  “We’re going to need you to clear out of this area,” I heard Hogan say behind me as he reached Chase and me. “Both you and Mr. Carter. We’re getting the vehicles out of here now.”

  “Of course,” Chase said. He cast a glance toward me that was as icy as the world around us. Then, as if by magic, his eyes welled. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell the senator about this.”

  “She’s still alive,” I reminded him. “Tell him that. I think she’s tougher than she looks.”

  Chase shook his head. “Maybe. I just don’t know…” His voice faded as he walked away, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. It reminded me of the way someone might play grief on screen. Nothing about it rang true in life, however.

  “Do you have any clue what she was doing out here?” Hogan asked me, as soon as Chase was out of sight.

  “I don’t,” I said. “She was just coming out of the WildFire road as we approached, driving like a bat out of hell. I turned around because she was obviously in trouble, and she hit the plow.”

  His gaze shifted to the body, and I saw the emotion that had been missing from Chase. “Jesus. What was she doing? The kid in the plow said she drove straight into him. Why?”

  “I think she lost control of the SUV,” I said. “But it’s no wonder considering how fast she was going.” I shook my head. I heard that toxic laughter well up from below again, and forced myself to ignore it. “Something’s going on, Hogan. I don’t have a clue what it is, but I think it might have something to do with Chase Carter. Sally may know something – I saw her this morning, and she was definitely spooked as soon as her son-in-law came around.”

  I hesitated, not sure how to frame my next words. Unlike Jack Juarez, Hogan was a skeptic when it came to my sensitivity to the world around me.

  “Have you double checked yet on whether Megan’s ex-husband is still in prison?” I asked. “Confirmed what Chase said last night?”

  “The police were supposed to be on that, but I haven’t heard back.”

  Something in the way he phrased it and the tension in his voice told me that wasn’t the end of the story. “So you made the call yourself,” I guessed.

  “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m having a hard time getting any answers,” he said. “I think there may have been a mistake somewhere along the line and they’re covering their tracks. But I’m not getting a clear answer one way or the other.”

  “I think you need to find him,” I said. He met my eye, and read the intensity there. I expected dismissal. Instead, fear flickered in his eyes.

  “You think he’s the one behind this.”

  “I don’t know. I just… I have a feeling – which I know you don’t believe in. But I think you should follow up. And figure out what you’re dealing with, if he is the one out there right now.”

  “Okay,” he agreed gravely. “I’ll do that.”

  He studied me for a moment, emotion sliding easily across his face. Had he always been this easy to read?

  “Please don’t get caught up in this, Jamie. I’ll dig deeper to try and get some answers about Megan’s ex, but don’t get tangled up with Chase Carter. This is a powerful family, and the senator is already going through hell with his daughter missing. That hell is about to get a hundred times worse. Let us handle this.”

  I thought of the pleasure on Chase’s face when he’d seen his mother-in-law’s body. Recalled Sally’s all-too-obvious fear when she’d spoken with me. I nodded, but this time I knew there was no way I could just let it go. Somehow or other, Chase had something to do with the WildFire shooter. If that shooter did indeed turn out to be Megan’s ex-husband, we already knew the connection: the two were long-time best friends. Whatever it took, I planned to find out what Chase’s role in this had been. And then, I would make sure he paid for the pain he’d inflicted.

  Chapter 15

  WildFire Expeditions

  February 5, 10:30 a.m.

  MEGAN KNELT IN THE SNOW on all fours until her stomach was empty, retching like a dog. Almost nothing came up, regardless – all she’d eaten in the past twelve hours were nuts and protein bars, and those sparingly.

  Recluse whined beside her, pawing at her shoulder with one massive foot.

  “Just give me a second, buddy,” she said wearily. Empty, exhausted, and still shaking, she crawled away from the scant pile of yell
ow vomit in the snow and collapsed.

  Where were Ava and Violet? For that matter, where was she? She longed for her pack, with its compass and cell phone, first aid kit and emergency stash of Clif Bars and water.

  “Where the hell are you, Hogan?” she muttered to the sky.

  Unsurprisingly, there was no answer. Still, she knew he would be out here looking. Heather would be, too – the warden had said she was okay. Megan just hoped her sister left the searching to everyone else. It might prove to be too much for the baby.

  “Take care of that kid, Heath,” she said, still talking to the sky. “That’s all that really matters.”

  Would Heather’s husband be looking too, she wondered? Hell, he probably had his camera going this whole time, recording every damned minute of the search.

  “God, this is getting bad,” she said to Recluse. “I even miss my idiot brother-in-law.”

  She had her breath back, and her stomach was beginning to settle. What was the next step? Find Violet and Ava. So far she’d managed to avoid thinking about the fact that, against everything she thought was good and stable in the world, her ex-husband was out of prison. She wasn’t thinking about the look in his eye when she’d finally been in his sights again. She definitely wasn’t reliving that last night the two of them spent together, six years ago in a cabin in the Rockies. The night he imagined she’d looked twice at a busboy at the restaurant where they’d had dinner.

  The night he broke her nose. Bruised two ribs. Held a knife to her throat, and raped her before she finally got away.

  She swallowed hard. She was sweating. She closed her eyes, then opened them quickly when she thought she heard movement in the bushes.

  She had to stay focused.

  Where were Ava and Violet? It seemed in that moment when Justin killed the warden that everyone had scattered in different directions, but maybe the two women had stayed together.

  Megan struggled to her feet, wincing at the pain in her side. She stood there a second, swaying slightly at a wave of lightheadedness, but it passed soon enough. She kept thinking, trying to figure out that mystical next move.