Head Start (Cedar Tree #7) (34 page)

“She’s with Emma. Insisted I go,” I admit to Damian, shrugging as I walk behind him into the office which is already crowded with Gus, Caleb, Malachi, Joe, Luna and, of course, Drew, as well as a handful of his deputies. Twelve of us packed in there like sardines.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Damian announces, wincing as he takes his first sip. Without hesitation, he tosses the full cup in the wastebasket by the desk, drawing a chuckle from most of us. We’ve been there and done exactly that. “What have we got?”

Drew stands by a whiteboard on the wall, on which a schematic layout of what I assume is Sundance Rentals is drawn. “It’s just a dirt road going north off the 184 toward Dolores. Last time I was up there, the sign had been taken down, so you’ll have to start looking for the entrance near six miles from Mancos. The main building is at the end of the dirt road, about three miles up. You can’t miss it. Carol printed off resort maps that show each of the cabins. We should probably divide them between us.” Drew looks to Damian for guidance.

“Teams of two. Each team starts in with an odd numbered cabin. It appears that although the cabins are spread out, they’re numbered in some order of proximity, so that seems easiest. Clear one cabin and move on. Got six radios?” He directs the last at Drew, who nods at one of his deputies. The moment the guy comes back in, his hands full, Damian continues, “Pick a partner, grab a radio and let’s go.”

Mal elbows me in the side. “Coming?”

“Yup,” is my response as I grab us a radio and a map and head out the door.

As we pass the front desk, Carol leans over. “Got ambulance on standby. Just in case.”

“You’re the best, Carol,” Joe pipes up behind me.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she says on a snort. The woman may look a little past it, but nothing gets past
her
. How she knows the shit she does is a mystery.

Once outside, I follow Mal to his SUV which makes more sense than my truck in case we have to transport someone. I try not to think about the possibility of what we might find, if anything, but I can’t stop the persistent nugget of hope that this is not a wild goose chase. Despite the fact there seems to be sufficient evidence to hang Cayman by the balls if he ever recovers enough to stand trial, there is a sense of unfinished business with Franka Mellis still unaccounted for. For the sake of everyone, I hope we find her alive, but at the very least, for her family, even a body would bring some closure. I’ve learned that indefinite doubt is much harder to live with than the certainty of bad news, in the long run.

It doesn’t take long for us to get to the turn onto the dirt road, and I keep my eyes peeled for anything that might help us. Being the first to team up, I picked cabin seven. So once we pass the main lodge, we park the vehicle as close to the foot trail going into the forest as possible. Seven is one of the cabins farthest away from the lodge and it takes us just shy of ten minutes to get there on foot. ATVs would have been helpful, but our feet would have to do. The only equipment we have with us is the radio, our weapons and a big Maglite Mal pulled from behind his seat. “Why seven?” Mal wants to know.

I shrug my shoulders, not sure myself. “Don’t really know. Other than the fact that the guy likes to follow patterns. Seven archangels. I don’t know.”

“Right, but wasn’t Kendra the seventh? This should be the eighth then. Lucifer. The fallen angel.”

“You may be right,” I tell Mal. “Good thing that’s our next stop.” I look at the cabin in front of us and note the storm door hanging half off the hinges. The general condition of the old log structure is decrepit at best, with tree shoots growing from the damn roof and the half collapsed deck on the front. It’s a wonder it still has some windows intact.

We split up and each go around a side. There’s one window on my side but I can’t see much with my little penlight when I look in. Doesn’t take long for the beam from Mal’s Maglite to come bobbing around the back of the cabin. “Nothing round the other side and two small windows up high on the back. Lemme see.” I step aside to give him better access to the window. “I don’t see anything,” he says as he moves along the side back to the front. “Let’s get inside.”

All it takes is a shoulder thrown against the door for the lock to break right through the rotting post on the inside. The sound of scurrying comes from one of the bedrooms in the back, and while Malachi gives the kitchen and living area a good once over, I move to the first of the three doors along the back wall. The first room still has bedding on the bed, but by the looks of it, a family of rodents or something have pulled stuffing out of the pillows or bedspread to make a nest of sorts in the middle of the mattress. Doesn’t look like this place has been touch by anything with opposable thumbs. As I open the door to the second bedroom, Mal slips into the third door, which I suspect is a bathroom. Just seconds later, both of us come back out, empty-handed.

“Doesn’t look like anyone has been here in a fuck of a long time,” I tell Mal, who simply nods in agreement. Looks like cabin eight is next.

Mal clicks on the radio he is holding. “Cabin seven clear, moving to eight.”

“Ten-four,” Damian’s voice crackles in response.

The walk to eight, which is one of the most northern of the cabins, doesn’t take quite as long. I’m jolted in my steps when Mal puts his arm out to stop me just as we get a visual. “Something’s off,” he says, aiming his light at the ground in front of him. I don’t question Mal. He’s proven himself time and again with his tracking ability. He’s got some kind of sixth sense and the nose of a bloodhound.

“There,” he points with his light. “I’m guessing ATV.” The area he’s lighting up shows the distinct ridging of heavy-duty off-roading tires. Immediately, my eyes go back to the cabin in front of us and I start moving. I don’t even bother with the windows first. The closer I get, the clearer it becomes that someone has most definitely been here. The old storm door on this one has been carefully removed and propped up against the side of the house and the windows look like they’ve been cleaned. Before I have a chance to try the door, Mal busts through. The stench inside is overwhelming and doesn’t bode well. As Mal mumbles into the radio, I head for the bedrooms.

I find her in the second bedroom rolled up in a fetal position on the floor beside the bed, a dirty pot filled with brackish water that must’ve come from the hole in the roof above beside her. Naked, bloody and with her back carved up, I don’t think she’s alive, but I have to check. The woman looks emaciated when I get closer and my heart clenches in my chest. With a tentative hand, I lift the dirty strands of her hair off her face and neck and almost jump back when I see her eyes open. She is very much alive, judging by the rapid blinking of her eyelids. “Franka?” I ask her softly as I hear Mal come in the room behind me. The nod of her head is slight, but it’s there. “You’re okay, honey. We’re going to get you out of here. He’s not gonna hurt you again.” With quick movements, I pull the shirt from my back and use it to cover her body, trying to avoid the mess on her back. “You’re a fighter, aren’t you? Good for you for hanging in there.” I’m mumbling nonsense, trying hard to contain my own emotions at the knowledge that this woman not only has seen hell up close, but she’s been alone for almost nine days. That must have been a curse and a blessing all at the same time. Starving was a painful business and someone with her injuries should not have been able to survive. Judging from the blood pooling under her body, those injuries extend beyond the now morbidly familiar pattern carved in her back. 

“K...kids?” The word is no more than a sigh from her cracked lips but the desperation in her eyes is loud enough.

“They’re good. Your daughter reported you missing. She’s a smart girl. Strong too, just like her momma.” I carefully stroke the back of my hand over one of hers, hoping the human contact will bring her some warmth. As I watch a thick tear rolling down her face, I wish I could at least fucking hold her to give her comfort, but I’m afraid to move her. Then I see Kendra’s face superimposed on hers and for the second time in so many weeks, my emotions overwhelm me. This woman had hung on for the sake of her kids. Kendra had sacrificed herself for the sake of her sister. Both of them the epitome of courage and selflessness.

It humbles me. It also heals something in me. They did what they had to do for theirs. I did what I had to do for mine. My team, my men, my friends.

Perhaps killing that boy was my sacrifice to make.

K
endra

“Gus is coming to pick us up.”

Emma turns to me and grabs my hands, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “She alive, honey. Those poor babies are getting their momma back.”

I pull one of my hands from hers and slap it over my mouth in disbelief and overwhelming relief. “How?” I manage.

“I didn’t get much detail but I know Neil and Mal found her, badly injured, dehydrated and starving but with a heart that apparently beats strong. Your man is going with her in the ambulance and asked Gus to bring you if it’s not too much.”

“Good,” I cry. “Neil will be gentle with her. I’m so relieved...yes, of course I’ll come.” When the floodgates burst, Emma is right there, holding me in her arms.

Gus gets there twenty minutes later with a smile on his face and doesn’t hesitate to kiss his wife soundly before turning to me. “Girl,” he rumbles, his voice rough with emotion. “Don’t think that woman would’ve survived another day.
Fuck me.
” He shakes his head before cupping my wet cheeks in his hands. “Saved her life, you did. No doubt in my mind.”

I do a face plant in his shirt, which smells of outside air and sweaty man, as his arms close gently around me. “C’mon,” he rumbles. “Your man needs you.”

“Such a Neanderthal,” I hear Emma mutter as she grabs for her walker, and I can’t help but chuckle through my tears.

-

N
eil is rushing to Gus’s big Yukon before the thing has come to a full stop, and pulls my door open. Instead of helping me out, he climbs in the back seat with me and buries his head in my neck, holding on tight. I hear the soft click of the doors, suggesting Gus and Emma are giving us a private moment. My hands rub his back as I try to distinguish his mumbles against my skin.

“Honey,” I try, but his face stays buried in my neck. “Neil?”

Finally, after I hear him take a deep breath in and let it out slowly, he lifts his head, resting his forehead against mine. The anguish in his red-rimmed eyes rips at my heart. One of my hands comes up to touch his face and he tilts his head to kiss my palm. “Talk to me, baby,” I whisper, watching his eyes turn to me.

“I don’t think you’ve ever called me that. I like it,” he says, his voice gruff with emotion.

“Talk to me,” I urge him again.

“I kept seeing your face. She was so frail, so broken, and yet her eyes were still so full of life. For her kids. She survived for her kids.” His disjointed words are a testament to the horror she must’ve endured. “I couldn’t leave her. I’m sorry I didn’t come get you myself. I needed you, but she...”

“Shhh,” I hush him, covering his mouth with my fingers. “I’m glad you were there. Glad it was you who stayed with her. Remember, I experienced firsthand what an amazing comfort you are. I love you so much.”

His face dives back down in my neck and I hold the back of his head while the other hand softly rubs his heaving back. Instinctively, I know this is about more than what he experienced out there. This is something that runs so much deeper. I don’t say anything, I just hold him the same way he’s held me through my struggles. Without questions, without judgement, but with overwhelming love in my heart. What a fool I’ve been.

What could’ve been hours later, but was likely only a few minutes, Neil lifts his face from my shoulder and kisses me softly. “Thank you,” he says simply, unashamed of the tears streaking his face. That, more than anything, shows me the depth of his trust in me and I feel honored. I don’t insult him with a response, the situation doesn’t require one. I gently smile at him instead. “I’m pretty sure she was violated, and I feel guilty for saying this, but I’m so grateful he never got that far with you. If I could have another go at him, I’d finish him off.” I can hear the anger in his voice and shudder to think what the woman’s had to endure. “But I just found out from Damian that Cayman died earlier tonight.” I see him clench his jaw before he bites off, “ Too easy. He should’ve suffered.”

I swallow as I lift my hand and soothe it along his jaw. “Well, I’m glad. Seems like sweet justice to me. Franka is found alive, just when he gets sent into the flames of hell. Let’s go in.”

Gus and Emma are standing beside the car, Gus holding a wheelchair he must’ve picked up inside. Without argument, I sit down and let Neil drive. He seems to need to take care of me right now, and I’ll gladly let him. The only ones in the waiting room are Luna and Damian when we enter the waiting room. The other guys all went home to their wives and kids. Only Drew is still at the cabin, keeping an eye out until Jasper and the forensics’ crew get there. No one is in a hurry anymore, now that Franka is found and Cayman is dead. There won’t be a trial which, I have to admit, gives me no small measure of relief. But, of course, the case still has to be closed out properly. There are many jurisdictions involved and everyone will want to be assured Cayman was the man involved.