“He’s a real outdoorsy type; survivalist and whatnot. How fortunate for him to have found the Pines. Maybe it was the mothership calling him home.” Chloe snorted. “Graduated from Northwestern, with honors. Art major, ‘earth and planetary studies’ minor. Something must have happened to him out there.” Chloe had started to realize that in addition to getting rid of the Yeti hunters, they could potentially reunite a grieving family.
Without stopping to think, or ponder the consequences of her decision, Chloe shot a private message to the woman listed as Christian’s mother. Not expecting an immediate answer, given the late hour, Chloe began to scroll through the photographs on Christian’s own Facebook page. All evidence so far seemed to eliminate the possibility that he was dangerous. Seconds later, an answering message came through; Mrs. West asked Chloe to call her, and left an out-of-state cell phone number. EV held her breath as Chloe made the call.
Chapter 27
“I’ve been an idiot,” EV’s voice spiked in Chloe’s ear after she’d grunted a terse, “What?”
“Camp Doodlemungus.”
“Camp what the whatsis? It’s…” Chloe cracked one eye open. When the blur cleared, she read the clock. “5:00 am. When they list your time of death, it’s going to say 5:05 on the certificate.”
“Like you could haul yourself out of bed in a mere five minutes,” EV scoffed.
“Why are you still talking to me? You should be getting a head start.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said? I know where Christian is.”
“And this news couldn’t wait another two hours?”
“Get dressed; we’re going on a hike.”
“Call Nate. Let him deal with it. I’m going back to sleep.”
“I already did. He and Dalton are on their way over. I talked him into letting us tag along.”
“Talked him into it?”
“Okay, I railroaded him. Happy?. I refused to give him the name you found, and told him we were going whether he liked it or not. And that I know a shortcut, so we’d probably get there first. He caved pretty quickly. Don’t you want to go?”
Did she? Maybe it was time to confront her issues with Nate head on.
Shuddering, she remembered her last attempt to avoid contact with the bane of her existence. She had just walked out of Thread with a bag of specially-ordered cashmere yarn—Veronica was getting a sweater for Christmas—when he rounded the corner. Absorbed in a phone conversation, he hadn’t noticed her immediately, so Chloe had dodged across the narrow sidewalk to duck in front of Horis’ truck where it was parked out front. She assumed the truck’s owner was grabbing a sandwich from The Mudbucket.
From her place of concealment, she heard Nate’s footsteps. Staying crouched; she sidled along the outside of the truck, but couldn’t quite resist a peek. When Chloe lifted her head to peer through the bottom of the truck’s side window, it was with great surprise that she found herself looking right into Horis’ amused face. Apparently, he’d had a front row seat for her entire stealth operation.
Chloe’s face burned again when she remembered how she had held a finger to her lips, and begged with her eyes to keep Horis from telling what he’d seen. Still, the man was a sweetheart. Without missing a beat, he’d crossed his heart, and then repeated her finger-to-lips gesture.
“That won’t be awkward.” She wasn’t awake enough to give the statement the eye roll it deserved. “And we couldn’t do this after the freaking sun comes up?”
“Haul your lazy ass out of bed and be here in fifteen.” EV hung up while Chloe fumed.
“Who does she think she is?” Chloe demanded of Sugar who, wakened by all the commotion, had crawled up onto Chloe’s chest for a cuddle and a purr.
She was still holding her phone when she heard the soft beep of an incoming text message.
Wear layers, it’s chilly out.
Bite me. I’m not coming.
Quit complaining. Don’t you know it’s Daylight Savings Time, your body thinks it’s 6:00 am.
You are pure evil, and I’m not coming.
Right. See you in a few minutes.
There were two things Chloe knew; if EV had given her fifteen minutes, she really had twenty; and she was going to climb out of bed and get dressed, because her curiosity would not let her go back to sleep.
Fifteen minutes or twenty made no difference; neither gave her time enough to take a shower. With a quick, ruthless series of movements, she yanked her hair back into a tail which she threaded through the back of an old ball cap.
Spice watched the action with great interest. Kill The Pony Tail was one of her favorite games. She gathered herself to leap, but Chloe warned the kitten off by speaking her name in a low tone.
Pouring on the speed, she applied just enough makeup to look more awake than she really felt, fed the cats, and bustled out the door into the burgeoning light of dawn.
* * *
EV expected to spend the day walking on eggshells, or maybe hot coals. Chloe was mad at Nate; Nate was annoyed with Chloe; Dalton was high on EV’s list of people to avoid—and she’d bet she rated right up there on his. Judging by Nate’s clipped tones, he hadn’t been happy to have the case solved for him.
Oh goody.
She’d given Chloe fifteen minutes, knowing she’d take at least twenty, and that would give them ten to prepare themselves before the men arrived.
“I hate you.” By now, the grumpiness was all for show. The idea of getting one up on Nate had blown away most of the morning cobwebs. The to-go cup of coffee EV handed her would brush way the rest.
“Where is this Camp Googlyfungus?”
“Doodlemungus.”
“Whatever.” Second thoughts about spending too much time with Nate surfaced about the time Chloe stepped through EV’s front door. “Stupid name, anyway.”
“Hey, your mother was a Greenie in the Eco Scouts.”
EV grinned when Chloe’s eyes rounded in surprise.
Chloe giggled. “Nice Yo Mama comeback, but they’re not supposed to be true, you know.”
“If memory serves, she was the one to name the camp.” EV ratted Lila out without a second thought.
“That almost makes up for you dragging me out of dreamland to go on the hike from hell. Why didn’t we wait and go alone later to scope it out?”
“I promised Dalton I would call him before I did anything dangerous.”
“Wait, do you think this might be dangerous?”
EV shook her head. “No, not at all.”
“I see. So, you’re annoying me while trying to score brownie points with Dalton?” It was close enough to the truth that EV shot Chloe a quelling look before saying, “It’s a win-win. Look at the evidence. He stole things; he repaired those things, and then he returned them. That’s not someone who intends to do harm. Besides, you saw him cuddling Drambuie in the photo. He’s not dangerous.”
Chloe agreed. Since the first phone call, a flurry of private messages had buzzed across the net between Chloe and Christian’s mother. Mrs. West explained the series of events leading to her son’s decision to hike the Appalachian Trail.
Her description of how Christian, on his way home from work, had come upon a house fire. He’d called 9-1-1, and then, when a frantic woman ran out of the house screaming that her babies were trapped inside, Christian took action.
With no thought for his own safety, he had run into the burning building. The smoke filled his lungs; burned his eyes, but still, he managed to find the nursery where a small bundle wrapped in a pink blanket lay much too still in the crib. Choking, he’d grabbed the baby, turned to leave when he heard the thin cries of another small child. Quickly, Christian had detoured into the next room. Fire roared on the other side of the wall; there wasn’t much time. Precious seconds passed while he searched the room with watering eyes while he choked on the thick, black fumes. Finally, he spotted a sneakered foot poking out from under the bed, grabbed the ankle, and pulled.
Shouting that he w
as there to help, he hoisted the little boy in his free arm and raced outside to collapse, gasping, on the grass.
The little boy survived; the baby didn’t make it.
Christian blamed himself. In the year that followed, he began to exhibit symptoms of PTSD.
It started with nightmares, the kind that pulled him screaming out of bed. Every night he got less sleep than the night before. His once-cheerful face fell into lines of stress; he forgot how to smile. When the flashbacks started, he gave in and sought help.
After several months of therapy, his mother said he’d been in recovery; that he intended to use this hiking trip as a sort of renaissance period. It had been going well until he missed one of his regular check-ins, then another. Given his history, the authorities feared the worst but his folks still hoped for the best.
Now he was several weeks missing, and everyone assumed he was much farther south than where the trail ran adjacent to Ponderosa Pines.
Christian’s mother painted a clear picture of a man who had had his fair share of troubles, but was working at rising above them before his disappearance.
All of this Chloe explained to Dalton, while not risking so much as a glance at Nate. Her attempt to dispel the awkwardness only half worked, but it took up the first five minutes of the hike.
Nate had spoken only two words. “Let’s go,” before he gestured for EV to lead the way. Chloe wanted to tell him he’d make better time if he pulled that stick out of his butt. She took the high road, knowing it wouldn’t earn her any points. Instead, she walked behind him and imagined darts shooting out of her eyes.
Dalton brought up the rear, which ensured he wouldn’t have to say anything to EV, while EV’s long legs ate up the ground. Chloe glanced over her shoulder to see Dalton’s gaze pinned on EV’s back. What a bunch of idiots they all were. Every last one of them. Not that she planned on breaking the ice with Nate.
After ten minutes, though, the silence crept in on her like spiders through a crack in a wall; its fingers nearly as shivery on her neck as one of their hairy legs would have been. She couldn’t stand it.
“Don’t we at least get credit for calling you this time—you know, before we just went ahead and did something without you?” She tossed the question over her shoulder toward Dalton.
He shrugged.
She turned again; glared at Dalton until a tiny smile played around his lips. Though, that might have been because he saw the root she was about to trip over right before her foot snagged it. Her short cry triggered Nate’s quick reflexes. He spun and caught her in time to stop her from doing a total face plant.
Flames ignited where he touched her; inched up to color her face red as Chloe stammered, “Thank you.”
As soon as she was solidly on her feet again, Nate snatched his hands back as if the flames she felt had also burned his skin. For the first time all day, EV and Dalton’s eyes met. The two shared a smile over the fumbling of the young and in love.
Something else passed between them; the knowledge that the boat they were in was very similar. Okay, maybe a lot older and a bit more decrepit, but not so very different. EV jammed her hands into her pockets and deadpanned, “We’re getting close to Camp. Maybe you have a trumpet you’d like to blow. You know—so you can announce our presence with as much fanfare as possible. I’m not sure all the yelling is enough.”
Nate positioned a hand above the butt of his gun, but EV gestured to him with impatience. “For Pete’s sake, you idiot. You’re not going into an ambush with an armed robbery suspect. Relax.”
“You don’t know what he’s capable of,” Nate cautioned.
“I know he’s capable of running into a burning building to save a stranger’s children.”
Nate dropped his hand away from the gun, but remained tense—ready for anything.
Not that he could have prepared himself for his first view of Camp Doodlemungus.
Christian sat in an old camp chair—one EV recognized from her days as an Eco Scout—feet outstretched toward an open fire enclosed by a circle of stones, his hands busily worked a small jackknife over a piece of ash. Tears ran down the man’s face as the form of a smiling baby took shape under his skill, and the sharp blade of the knife.
He heard them coming; couldn’t have helped it since they made no real effort at stealth.
“Figured you’d find me eventually.” His voice sounded rough from disuse and emotion.
“You’re Christian West.” Nate pulled his jacket back to reveal the badge clipped to his belt. “Detective Nate Harper.” His action also revealed the gun holster.
“Yes, sir.” Christian laid down his knife. Slowly he raised both hands. “I’m unarmed, and I won’t fight you. I swear it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not here to arrest you.” When Nate exaggeratedly cleared his throat, EV glared at him. “Keep quiet, Harper.” She turned back to Christian, “I’m EV Torrence, this is Chloe LaRue, and that’s Dalton Burnsoll. We’re the official Ponderosa Pines welcoming committee.”
Nate didn’t even try to hide a snort.
Ignoring him, EV spoke again to Christian, “Your family has been worried sick about you, young man. Would you like to tell us what happened?” She reached into the small pack she carried to retrieve the thermos of hot chocolate and the thick BLT sandwich she’d put together before leaving this morning.
Christian accepted the food gratefully.
“Call me Chris.”
“Chris.” EV crouched beside the chair to lay a hand on his arm; infused her voice with sympathy. “Please tell us what happened to you.”
The young man looked at each of the four of them in turn. He reached up to pull the ball cap from his head, brushed back the wild tangles of dirty hair to show a healing contusion at his temple.
“I’ll tell you what I can, but my memory is a little sketchy. I was hiking north with just three more days to go before I’d come out to where Trail Buddies left my pickup.” He glanced around, “You know about Trail Buddies? For a small fee, you can leave your vehicle with them and they’ll drop you off wherever you want to start hiking. Then on the day before you plan to finish, they deliver your vehicle to the exit point and lock it up with the keys in it. I sure hope it’s still there.”
“Finish your story, then I’ll put in a call to have someone check on it for you,” Nate reassured him.
“Thanks. I really do appreciate that.” Christian fell silent until EV reminded him that he was telling them his story. The short hesitation made her think he might still be suffering the effects of the blow to his head.
“Oh, right. Well, it was stupid really, I saw a break in the trees up on the top of a hill, and figured the view with the autumn leaves would be photo-worthy. I had to climb up on a boulder, but it was spectacular. I took a few—maybe half a dozen shots before I fell. Lost my phone, I guess, since I don’t seem to have it anymore.”
“When your family reported you missing, state police tried to access your phone’s GPS. They found it almost ten miles southwest of here, which is why the search radius was centered in the wrong place all this time. What else do you remember?”
“Nasty headache, a lot of walking. By the time I found this place, I was in rough shape. Cold, hungry, in pain. I barely remember finding this little cabin in the woods. There were a few packs of freeze-dried camping meals in an old metal tin, and that held me for a little while. I slept a lot, and each time I woke up, my thinking was a little clearer.”
“Looks like you took a hard one to the temple.” Dalton finally spoke.
“Scrambled my eggs.” Christian smiled. “I’m not sure how many days I’d been here before I found the little town.” Now his gaze fell. “I stole food from the fields, from outside one of the buildings, and milk from somebody’s cows.”
“That would be Tank.” Chloe interjected. “It’s okay,” she said, when she saw his stricken expression. “He’s a good man who doesn’t hold a grudge. But, why didn’t you come on into town an
d ask for help?”
It was the question they all wanted to hear answered.
Christian dropped his face into his hands. “You’ve talked to my mother?”
“Yes, I have.” Chloe injected as much warmth and understanding as she could into her tone. His story had touched her deeply.
“Ever since the…ever since, I’ve had trouble asking for help. So I stole what I needed. But, eventually, my conscience started poking at me, so I looked for a way to give something back.”
“And that’s when you took the broken items and fixed them.”
“I’ve always liked working with my hands. When I saw that box of art supplies, I knew it was wrong, but I took it. I used the paints; made my own glue and resins. There’s no excusing what I did. I know you have to take me to jail. Could you please make sure my mom gets this to where it should go?” He handed EV the carving of the baby.
The look EV aimed at Nate promised death with a sharp object if he so much as reached for a set of cuffs before she assured Christian, “I think you’ll be able to do that yourself. The good people of Ponderosa Pines are not vindictive enough to punish someone who needed help.”
Chapter 28
While the Wests were piling into Nate’s car outside the Portland Jetport and racing Ponderosa Pines to see their son for the first time in several months, Christian was enjoying a long and much-needed shower at Chloe’s house. EV puttered around the kitchen making lunch for everyone. She’d already plugged into the grapevine to send two texts. One to convene a meeting of town members only; the other to arrange a distraction that would take the Sasq-Watchers out of play for the day.
“Do you think he’s alright?” Chloe asked EV. “The shower shut off a while ago. I’m going to check on him.”
“Christian?” she asked, as she tapped lightly at the door. “Are you okay?”
The bathroom door opened, and when Christian emerged with an exuberant smile on his face, Chloe knew he would make it through just fine. Unable to hold back a matching grin, she led him to a place at her dining room table and watched Christian inhale two sandwiches, a bowl of chowder, and a heaping portion of leftover blueberry cobbler EV had found in her refrigerator.
Crafting Disorder (Ponderosa Pines Cozy Mystery Series Book 2) Page 15
