Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 04 - Dirty Deeds (19 page)

I stepped up to the counter. A new face was behind the desk, this one younger. He had a mullet, crooked teeth, and four gold chains around his neck. I thought the chains went really well with his flannel shirt, which happened to have the sleeves cut out and was unbuttoned halfway down his chest. “What can I do you fer?”

Where was Jeff Foxworthy when I needed him? “I need to check on my car.”

“Your name?”

I gave him my information, and he disappeared into the back for a moment. He returned and said the parts had been back ordered. “The car should be ready by midweek.”

I leaned against the counter to get a better look at his eyes. Surely he was jesting. “Midweek? Midweek is today.”

He twirled the toothpick in his mouth. “Midweek next week.”

My mouth dropped open. I had a feeling these people knew they were the only shop in town, and they were taking advantage of it. “That’s not acceptable. I’ve got to get back home.”

He shrugged, indicating he could care less. “You may want to look into renting.”

“Even if I rented, I’m just going to have to drive all the way back out here to pick the car up when it’s ready.”

He leaned toward me, his elbows propped on the counters. “We do have a delivery program. It’s kinda pricey.”

I shook my head. “This is unbelievable.”

“Happens all the time on these roads. People don’t know how to drive on them.”

“Apparently.” I shrugged. “I’ll be back in touch.”

***

I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I found myself texting Riley and telling him I’d catch up with him on the trails.

Then I went and rented a four-wheeler myself. I got a map and found the approximate location of Ominous Valley. Just earlier I’d been thinking that no smart woman should go on one of these trails alone. Now, here I was, going on a trail alone. But I had a four-wheeler, which, to me, seemed to be an added safety measure. If I saw anyone crazy, I’d just hop on and roar away. In theory, at least.

The attendant gave me quick directions on how to operate the four-wheeler, warned me about the dangers of getting lost, insisted that cell phone service was nearly nonexistent, told me the path to Ominous Valley was both unsafe and not well traveled, and recommended that I four-wheel with someone else.

Then, just like that, I’d mounted my vehicle and headed toward a mountainous trail. Since I didn’t have a car or anyone to travel with me, this would have to work.

A tinge of apprehension crept up my spine as I wondered what I was getting myself into, from the four-wheeler all the way to being out in these woods alone.

This was about justice. Finding answers. Helping people. I just couldn’t get those things out of my blood.

I wondered if Riley would ever fully understand that? Certainly the rest of our relationship together wouldn’t consist of me sticking my nose where I shouldn’t and trying to hide what I was doing from him? Sierra wasn’t right. Riley wasn’t asking me to be someone I wasn’t. That was just my insecurities doing what they did best—rearing their ugly heads at the worst of times. Half of the time I had to play a mental game of “Whack a Mole” with them.

My ATV climbed up the narrow path. I reached a fork, glanced at my map, and went right.

But my mind stayed on Riley. What if I had to choose between investigating and our relationship? No, he would never make me choose. But still … why did the choice seem like such a hard one? I should choose Riley. But my heart didn’t feel convicted or like the choice was a no-brainer, and that fact bothered me as I bounced up the mountainside.

I paused at another split. According to my map, if I went right again, I’d get to the approximate area of Jackie’s cabin, but if I went left, it would take me to the overlook that had been Jackie’s favorite. I figured the police had already searched the cabin, so my chances were better at the overlook.

Across the way, on another ridge, I spotted three other people four-wheeling. I tried to imagine what it would be like to be out here, not to investigate but simply to have fun. Then I decided that without investigating, it wouldn’t be any fun at all.

The tension in my chest pulled tighter. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just be normal and do normal things?

I knew the answer. It was because just like fingerprints—and tongue prints, for that matter—we were all created uniquely. I wasn’t supposed to be like everyone else. But, at this moment, that didn’t make me feel any better.

I saw a railing in the distance and eased off the accelerator. I puttered for a moment until I was close enough to cut the ignition. I pulled my helmet off and walked toward the overlook.

A soft breeze hit my face while an earthy scent rose up around me. Dried leaves, dusty pollen, fragrant dirt. I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying nature.

Birds sang around me. Somewhere, a stream trickled. The wind brushed the leaves together.

I opened my eyes. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to find here. In all honesty, I wasn’t truly expecting anything. But if I did find something, I wouldn’t complain.

I sucked in a breath when I saw the deep gulch below. The mountain steeply dropped and dropped and then dropped some more. The depth of the decline almost made my head spin for a moment. Thank goodness for the railing to hold me up.

“So this is where you liked to come, Jackie,” I muttered, picturing her standing here. “Did you wonder about the wisdom of your scheme? Did you question your decision to go through with this, maybe even consider turning back?”

Of course no one answered me. Truth was, I doubted very many people knew about this trail at all. If I hadn’t asked the guy at the four-wheel excursion adventure place about it, I wouldn’t be here right now.

I cast one last glance over the mountain before stepping back. It was time to try and meet up with Riley and his friends. I needed to text them and see where exactly they were. I only hoped I could get a signal.

I pulled out my phone, saw that I had an ever-so-slight signal, and sent the text. As I glanced at my phone, something on the ground caught my eye. A spot of red.

Blood?

I squatted beside it. No, it was a … jelly bean.

I tried to recall what Riley had told me about his friends before we came. I was nearly certainly he’d mentioned that Jackie had an addiction to jelly beans.

My heart rate sped.

Jackie had been here, just like Clint said. I had no idea when or if it tied in with her disappearance, but she’d been here.

Before I stood, I spotted another piece of candy a couple of feet away, a yellow one this time. A little farther toward the edge, there was an orange one, then a blue one, and a green one.

I paused at the edge. It wasn’t a straight drop down. The ground was probably slanted for twenty feet or so before a total drop off occurred. I could probably slide and hang on to some trees to lower myself farther. That’s the direction these jelly beans were leading.

Had Jackie fallen?

A quick glance at the foliage made it appear nothing had been disturbed on the mountainside lately. There were no marks in the dirt. I looked for a line in the leaves or a section where the underbrush was broken. Nothing showed any signs of a struggle. The whole “take only pictures, and leave only footprints” thing had apparently worked here.

I needed something to go on, and all I had at the moment were jelly beans leading down a mountain.

Of course, in Hansel and Gretel, following a candy trail had led them to a witch who nearly ended up eating them. The thought wasn’t comforting. In the least.

Lord, watch over me.

I prayed that prayer a lot.

I grabbed a twig-like tree and lowered myself the first step of my journey into the gulch. Slow and steady wins the race, I reminded myself. I had to keep my footing. I’d just go down a few feet.

I spotted another red jelly bean.

As I took another step down, my foot hit a patch of leaves and slid. Gravity pulled me downward. I reached for something—anything—and grabbed a pine tree. The rough bark dug into my hands, but I didn’t care. I jerked to a halt, the action so swift and harsh that my arm ached in its socket.

My breath caught. My heart pounded in my ears. In an instant, I’d envisioned myself passed out at the bottom of the gulch with no one to find me. Was that what had happened to Jackie?

I shook my head. Again, there was no evidence of that. Certainly, there would be broken tree limbs and marks in the dirt and disrupted leaf patterns on the ground.

Then why was there a trail of jelly beans? How had they gotten here?

I looked down. I could see three or four more pieces of the candy below me.

I paused. Above me and to the left, a rock jutted out from the mountainside. Above that was the overlook where I’d stood earlier. The craggy boulder had dark recesses below it that made me think of bears and wildcats and other wild animals that needed shelter.

Maybe coming down here wasn’t a good idea. I should have gotten Riley. Or the police. Even Deanna would have worked. Someone, for goodness sakes!

There were so many things that could go wrong. Like me hanging from a tree with nowhere to go but down.

I tried to find my footing, but the leaves kept slipping out from underneath me, making it impossible for me to pull myself back up. My hands burned against the sappy bark of the pine tree. My arm ached, and I was losing my strength quickly.

That’s when I heard a piece of bark crack. Then crack again. And again.

The bark was coming off the tree.

No. No. No. This could
not
be happening.

At once, my hold on the tree disappeared. I slipped down the mountainside, right toward the cliff. Right toward my death.

I reached for something—anything—but only grabbed leaves and a loose rock that tumbled back toward me and knocked me in the forehead. Finally, my hand caught a root.

But not before my feet dangled over the edge. I looked down.

The gulch was even deeper than I’d thought. It was a long way down. Like, a
long
, long way down. A river—so far away it looked more like an oversized snake—cut through the landscape below.

And all I had to hang onto was a root.

This had been such a bad idea. A bad, bad idea. Even though I jogged and my job kept me physically active, I didn’t have the upper body strength I needed to pull myself up.

I pushed on my elbows, hoping that would give me leverage. Instead, my arms felt like Jello—wobbly, mushy, and easily torn apart.

How was I going to get myself out of this one?

I glanced back up and saw the railing of the overlook. Was this how Jackie had died?

My palms sweated under the pressure, under the heat of the afternoon, and I felt my grip slipping. If I lost hold of this root, there was no way I’d make it. There was nothing—nothing—between this root and the edge of the cliff except me.

If I could take one hand off my lifeline, I could reach into my pocket, grab my phone, and call for help.

If I had reception.

I had reception up by the overlook. But it was spotty at best. It was a big risk to take for something so uncertain. Besides, holding on with only one hand could lead to my death.

What was I going to do?

“Hello? Are you okay down there?”

My heart stuttered for a moment. Someone else was here. Since I was hanging on to a root for dear life, I only hoped the person out here was a good guy and not a bad one.

A face peered down at me. I blinked in surprise. “Ajay?”

“Miss St. Claire? What are you doing?”

I tried to shrug, but it was a little hard since I could barely move my shoulders. “I’ve gotten myself into a little predicament, I suppose.”

“Do you need a hand?”

“I’d love one.” I glanced down. “But first I have to finish checking something out.”

“Can I help?”

“If I fall and hit my head, just call the police. That would be awesome.”

In a graceful motion, he practically repelled down the mountainside without any ropes until he was at my side. “Let us hope that is not needed.”

He grabbed my hands and pulled me up until my feet landed on the ground. He didn’t let go until I was practically hugging a tree. I made a mental note to never describe myself as “sure-footed.”

“Thank you,” I gasped, realizing just how close that had been. Just glancing down once more made me feel lightheaded. That could have been really ugly.

I stared at Ajay, realizing I was seeing him in jeans and a golf shirt for the first time. He didn’t seem like Ajay without the suit and the sash. He did wear a gold chain necklace with the symbol of a sun on the end. In the center of the emblem was a large diamond.

I drew in another ragged breath. “How’d you climb down like that?”

He shrugged, not looking the least bit shaken by the massive drop only a few feet away. “I grew up in the mountains, exploring nature. It is second nature. Now, what can I help you with?”

“I’m following a candy trail.”

“I could have bought you some candy, you know. There are far simpler ways to get these things.”

I stared at him a moment until I realized he was joking. Then I chuckled. “You’re funny.”

“I try.” He glanced to the side. “The candy leads that way, it appears.”

I followed the direction he pointed, and my throat went dry. The candy led to the boulder under the overlook. The dark, scary place where animals of prey should live. Lovely.

“What are you doing out here anyway?” I asked as I tried to find my footing and follow the clues.

“Enjoying nature. Thinking. Pondering life.”

I sensed something burdening his soul, and I wanted to ask what. But this whole being engaged thing was messing with my head. Asking this man to share what was on his heart just seemed a little too personal, especially since we were out here in the woods alone.

I had to think about how I’d feel if Riley were out on a mountainside with another woman, alone and talking about the things that grieved their hearts.

What if he was out here with someone like … Veronica?

At that moment, my foot slipped from the root I’d stepped on. I felt myself falling backwards. A scream escaped.