Inside the Echo

by Jen Blood

  And then, she had it.

  She would go back the way she’d come. Justin would never even imagine she’d have the guts to go back there. The warden had been on a snowmobile. It should still be there, abandoned. Waiting for her. All she had to do was get there.

  She rallied herself once more, searching for a sign of her tracks in the snow. God, she was parched. She let a snowball melt in her hand, then drank what remained; actually eating the snow risked lowering her core body temperature when she definitely couldn’t afford it.

  The trail back was easy to find. Panicked as she’d been at that first sight of Justin’s face, she’d hardly been in stealth mode. She lay her hand on Recluse’s head for a boost of strength, and began retracing their steps.

  Chapter 16

  Flint K-9 Search and Rescue

  February 5, 10:30 a.m.

  AFTER WE HAD ANSWERED the police’s questions and the plow truck driver – shaken, but rallying – had been taken to the hospital, Hogan gave me permission to report for duty a late given the circumstances. I returned to my original mission: dropping Bear and Ren at the WildFire base camp before Jack and I headed out on the search once more. I knew that it was only a matter of time before the police descended on Abe Wright to find out why Sally had paid him a visit moments before her accident; I had to admit, I was burning with curiosity about that myself.

  All conversation inside the van had quieted as I navigated along a deeply rutted gravel drive to the WildFire camp. A six-foot fence ran along the driveway to my left, enclosing at least three acres. Dogs – hearty, thick-coated, but otherwise sharing very few obvious similarities with the stereotypical sled dog – barked a warning at our arrival, running along the fence line. They kept pace easily with the truck, their bodies lean, their coats wet with snow.

  “It’s like a wildlife park,” Jack said. “Do you think any of them ever get inside?” I heard the note of disapproval, and squelched a smile. Jack was new to the dog world, but he’d become protective fast.

  “These breeds are different from your average household pet,” I said. “If you tried to keep them inside, especially in winter, they’d be miserable. Megan and Heather have a good setup for them, or at least they used to. I’ve never heard any complaints.”

  “It’s actually pretty great here,” Bear said, calling up from the back. “I came back to Flint K-9 last time with a lot of ideas on how to improve conditions for our own dogs, thanks to everything Megan and Heather do here.”

  Jack looked skeptical, but seemed to accept our view. To our right as we approached the house was a small parking lot with a pickup truck and a little Toyota covered in about an inch of ice and snow. I drove past and pulled up in front of a rough two-story structure with a tar-paper roof and solar panels. The dogs’ barking reached a crescendo.

  A rope course was strung above the house and part of the dog yard, while giant tire swings, wooden platforms, and dog houses were scattered throughout the fenced area. The whole place looked to be in slightly worse repair than I remembered it, but I wasn’t sure whether that was reality, a trick of the season, or influenced by my own state of mind.

  I parked the van, turned off the engine, and left Phantom while Jack and I got out with Bear and Ren, Bear keeping up a running dialogue on everything he remembered about the place.

  “The first couple of trips I did here, we were camped out most of the time. When I did the canine wilderness first aid, though,” he told her, “we stayed right here. They’ve got like barracks or something out back. Wait till you meet their dogs.”

  “You did tell Abe you were coming, right?” I said to Bear, though we’d been over this before.

  “Of course,” he said. “I’m not an idiot. I called and told him I’d help out in whatever way he needed with the dogs. He seemed kind of out of it, but he said he was grateful for the help.”

  The walkway leading up to the house was covered with a dusting of fresh snow, a sheen of ice beneath that. We skated our way to the door and I braced myself for whatever may come next. After the morning we’d had, I had no idea what to expect anymore.

  Predictably, barking ensued as soon as I knocked. A lot of barking.

  “They must not keep all of the dogs outside then,” Ren said.

  “Last time I was here, there were six who lived inside,” Bear said. I had no doubt he knew all six of those dogs’ names; he probably also knew the names of every dog in that enclosure.

  “Just a second!” a woman’s voice bellowed from within. She opened the door, nearly taking me out, and a Malamute the size of a pony barreled past.

  “It’s you,” Shonda said, staring at me.

  “I brought my son – he talked to Abe, and said he’d volunteer to help with the dogs.” The explanation felt inadequate now that I was actually here, at the heart of the chaos.

  Shonda gestured broadly out the door, toward the dog now running wild and the dozen or more others going berserk inside the fenced area.

  “Sure. You like a lost cause, have at it. I’m going before it gets any colder and the whole world freezes over.”

  “Where are the others?” I asked.

  “They left first thing this morning, the second they got the go-ahead. I stuck around a little longer, just in case the police needed me to say something more.”

  “What about Abe?” Jack said. “Where is he now?”

  “At the hospital with Heather. Some lady showed up asking for him a couple of hours ago. I’ll tell you what I told her: I don’t know when he left, don’t know when he’ll be back, and don’t know how Heather’s doing. At this point, I’m in the dark.”

  “So he didn’t talk to the woman?” I paused, just registering that the Malamute was headed for the fences, where several other dogs didn’t look at all happy to see him coming.

  “Is that Denmark?” Bear interrupted, following my line of thought. “He’s not supposed to be out there, is he?”

  “No,” Shonda said grudgingly. “But he goes out all the time to torture the dogs in the yard. Damn it, Denmark. Come!” she bellowed toward the dog. Unsurprisingly, Denmark didn’t look at all interested in obeying the command.

  “Hang on,” Bear said. He pulled half a dozen pieces of chicken liver and a slip lead from his jacket pocket. Truly his mother’s son. “I’ll get him.”

  Denmark was gorgeous and fluffy, a healthy burnished grey color dusted with snow. He was getting dangerously close to the fence, though he stayed just far enough out of reach to avoid trouble. That didn’t matter, though – I’ve been around dogs enough to know that if they get amped up and can’t reach the object of their frustration, they often turn on each other. A fight between a dozen dogs in a pit of snow and ice seemed fitting given the events of the rest of the day, but if we could avoid it, that would be my preference.

  “Denmark,” Bear called, keeping his voice light. “Come on over here, buddy.”

  The dog turned toward Bear, intrigued at his voice, and Bear held out a piece of the chicken liver. Though he was still at least twenty feet away, Denmark was clearly interested.

  “You need a hand?” I asked, though I kept back.

  “Just hang there,” Bear said. “Give us a minute.”

  The other dogs were still barking, though the vitriol had lessened as Denmark moved farther away. “Good boy,” Bear praised the dog, then crouched low and turned his body to the side, avoiding eye contact.

  “Come on, buddy,” he said once more. “Come, Denmark.”

  At last, Denmark made up his mind. He turned his back on the other dogs, head and tail held high, and trotted toward Bear.

  For all his show of bravado with the other dogs, he was a perfect gentleman as he delicately the slip lead went over his head. Bear stood, roughing the top of the dog’s head as he turned back toward the house.

  By this time, another half dozen dogs of varying sizes and breeds – none of them under sixty pounds – had gathered at the threshold. They were all well behaved, though, offer
ing only a perfunctory sniff before they went back to lie down once more. Shonda, meanwhile, stood with her suitcase in hand, clearly preparing to make a run for it. She set it down when Bear brought Denmark inside again, and closed the door behind him.

  “I know you’re trying to get out of here,” I said to the woman, “but I’m afraid the police will probably be out with some more questions soon. I’m surprised they’re not here yet.”

  “And why is that, exactly?” Shonda asked.

  Before I launched into that dire story, I held up my index finger to indicate I needed a minute and shifted focus to Bear and Ren. “Unless you wanted to hang out in here for this, you two can go out and start working with the dogs if you want.” I looked at Shonda again. “Have they been fed?”

  “Not that I know of,” she said, with a shake of her head. “Abe was gone when we got up this morning, and it doesn’t look like he did anything out there. Megan was always telling me to stay out of that pen – too much dog for me to handle, she says.”

  “Are you sure you’re up for it in that case?” I asked Bear.

  “Definitely,” he said, without a second thought. “I was in there all the time at the last workshop. You just have to know how to approach them.”

  “Whatever you say,” Shonda said doubtfully. “No way I’d risk it, though.”

  “Ren, maybe it would be best if you stayed out of the enclosure.” I expected Bear to protest, but he and Ren both nodded their agreement.

  “I’m sure I can find ways to help outside the pen,” she said. “Maybe when Heather and Megan return, I’ll have a chance to take one of the workshops myself.”

  “That would be awesome,” Bear said. “They’re running one this summer. We could do it together.”

  She smiled, with none of the regret I would have expected if she were really leaving with her father soon, as Bear had said.

  Hmm.

  The two teens headed back out into the snow. I was caught for a moment when Bear slipped his hand into Ren’s, and the two continued on hand in hand.

  “They’re cute,” Shonda said. “I don’t even remember what it was like to be that young. Definitely not that in love.”

  I resisted the urge to protest. Bear and Ren in love? They were friends – good friends. And, yes, it had been clear for a while that there might be a little bit more to it than that. But not love. Right?

  “Okay, spill,” Shonda said, interrupting my reverie as I closed the front door once more. “Why the hell can’t I leave? It’s not like the roads are gonna get any better as the day goes on. There’s a flight with my name on it going out of Logan this afternoon, before things get bad out. I plan to be on it.”

  I could understand being anxious to get out of here, but I planned to take full advantage of Shonda’s presence before she left.

  “You said a woman came here looking for Abe,” Jack said, rather than answering her question. “Did you get a chance to talk to her?”

  “She just asked if we were okay,” Shonda said. “And then she said she wanted to talk to Abe. Seemed pretty anxious to have a word with him, but I couldn’t tell her much except that he was at the hospital. I got the feeling she wanted to say something to us, maybe had some questions, but she took off in a hurry.”

  Jack and I exchanged a glance. “Any idea why?” I asked.

  “She got a text,” Shonda said. “Whatever it said, it shook her up. She took off out of the parking lot like she was trying out for NASCAR – not the smartest way to go on a road like this.”

  Shonda studied me, keen eyes taking in my reaction to her words.

  “Did something happen to her? Is that why the cops want to talk to me again?”

  “There was an accident,” Jack said. “Down the road from here. She was going too fast for the conditions.”

  “Is she all right?” Shonda asked.

  “We’re not sure yet,” I said. “They were still working on her when they took her to the hospital.”

  Shonda swore under her breath, shaking her head. “I knew she was going too fast.”

  “You don’t have any idea what was in that text message?” I asked.

  She didn’t. I made a mental note to contact Hogan as soon as we were finished here to make sure the police knew to access Sally’s phone and text messages. That alone could go a long way toward solving this puzzle.

  “Listen, if the cops aren’t here yet, I don’t know when they’re coming,” Shonda said abruptly. “I haven’t heard anybody saying I have to stay, and I want to get home to my kids before I get stuck here a minute longer.”

  “I understand,” I agreed. Where the hell were the police? “They have your contact information. I’m sure I’d be doing the same thing in your place. Just please drive carefully – it was just flurries this morning, but even that can mean trouble if you’re not paying attention.”

  She agreed with a grim nod. At the door just before she left, Shonda stood for a second, looking back at Jack and me. Her face was drawn, her eyes weary, but there was a determined set there that I appreciated.

  “They’ve got a good thing going out here, you know,” she said. “It all went to shit this time, no doubt, but Heather and Megan do good work. Once they find Megan, you tell her that for me, okay? Tell her I learned some things. I’m not going home empty handed.”

  “I’ll let her know,” I said quietly.

  And with that, Shonda shifted gears one more time, waving off Jack’s offer to help with her bags. She told us to lock up when we left, and I watched as she made her way carefully to the car. The temperature was stuck in the mid-twenties by now, and the snow had stopped. Even if she crawled down the mountain, Shonda should hit the airport well before her flight. Silently, I wished her safe travels.

  #

  The WildFire base camp was just two miles down the road from the Grafton Notch park entrance. By ten-thirty that morning, Bear and Ren were happily mucking out the enclosure while a dozen husky mixes danced around them. Shonda had gone and Abe was still nowhere in sight, but I had faith that the teens could handle themselves. Clearly, Jack and I weren’t needed here.

  When we arrived at Grafton Notch, SUVs and snowmobiles were already parked, searchers bundled up and the dogs raring to go. Michelle and Hogan met us outside the van as I unloaded Phantom, while Jack double checked our kit to make sure it was ready for the trail.

  “Looks like you’ve got a full house,” I observed.

  “We could use a few more actually,” Hogan said. “There are a couple of theories going around about the shooter, and Steiner isn’t approving anyone else until we have some clue what we’re dealing with.”

  “Which makes sense,” Michelle said. “We all want to find Megan and the others, but it doesn’t help anyone if other people end up getting hurt out here. It just winds up taking resources away from the search.”

  “I know,” Hogan agreed grudgingly. “Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

  “We were just down at the WildFire base,” I said. “Shonda, that woman who was interviewed last night, had to get going to make a flight in Boston. I was surprised the police didn’t show up while we were there to talk to her.”

  “As far as I know, they’re done with her for now. I guess they may have some follow-ups about the shooter, but it didn’t seem like she was able to offer much in the way of information,” Hogan said.

  “Not about the shooter,” I said. “About the accident – with Sally Price.”

  Hogan frowned. “Why would they need to talk to her about the accident?” he asked. “I don’t think Shonda or any of the WildFire crew would have much to say about that. Other than don’t drive like a bat out of hell on a slick road when you’re medicated.”

  “You know for sure she was on something?” I asked. I recalled my own impressions of her that morning, and found I wasn’t surprised at the news.

  “The son-in-law said he gave her something this morning – she was worked up, and he had a prescription he thought mig
ht do her some good. Not a great idea, but I’ve got bigger fish to fry than worrying about rich folks swapping prescription meds.”

  “But why would she have gotten behind the wheel?” I persisted. “She didn’t seem like the type to take a risk like that. And why did she go to the WildFire base to begin with? Shonda said she got a text, freaked out, and left right afterward. Aren’t you at least curious what was in that text?”

  “I wrote that text,” a voice said from behind me. I turned, and had to work to keep from frowning at sight of Chase Carter bearing down on us. “I don’t know why she reacted the way she did, unless she just decided she needed to get out of there.”

  “What did you say?” I asked.

  “Here, see for yourself,” he said. The smug look on his face was enough to make me want to kick him. He handed me his phone, the text already pulled up. Don’t go far. I’m coming for you. I stared at him.

  “You wrote this?” Jack asked, stepping to my side to read the message as well.

  “I did. I was just letting her know I’d come get her if she needed any help.” He looked morose for a second, sighing dramatically. “I just wish she had stayed to wait for me.”

  “Have you heard anything from the hospital about her status?” I asked.

  “She’s made it so far, but she’s unconscious,” Chase said. “We just have to wait and see.”

  I looked at Hogan to see if he was buying what seemed to me a completely transparent act, but he was deep in discussion with Michelle. Jack, however, looked unimpressed.

  “What are you doing here, anyway?” I asked, unable to keep the annoyance from my voice. “Shouldn’t you be with your father-in-law right now?”

  “He’s been sedated,” Chase said. “I’m not sure how much more of this he can take. I can’t stand sitting still waiting for the phone to ring, so I figured I would volunteer.”

  This time, I didn’t wait for Hogan to shift focus back to us, interrupting his conversation with Michelle. “I thought you weren’t taking any more civilian volunteers,” I said. “He’s a civilian, isn’t he?”