*
The helicopter shuddered briefly as it lifted off, carrying team one and its sad cargo. Huddled under several blankets, Kellen barely noticed as silence filled her with the numbness of loss.
She couldn’t stop shivering. Her headache had become full-blown, tensing the muscles in her neck. Her chest hurt, making it difficult to breathe. And her mind seemed incapable of concentrating on anything.
Alone for the moment with her muddled thoughts, she stared out the window, not really seeing the beauty of the snow-covered landscape passing below. Just doing her best not to think about the black bag carefully strapped in the rear cargo area.
She hated it when a mission failed to bring someone home alive. And thirteen—
damn
. That was way too young to wind up in a body bag as a result of misadventure.
By now Annie would have been in contact with the sheriff’s department and the boy’s parents. The parents, and someone from the county coroner’s office, would be there to meet them once they landed, and the boy’s body would be transferred into their care.
Kellen closed her eyes and continued to shiver.
“You might start feeling warmer in a week or so,” Tim teased, placing a warm mug in her hands.
“What is this?” she asked moodily, staring at the mug.
“It’s a hot toddy,” he said. “Hot tea with a shot of Jack.”
Kellen grimaced as she took a sip and felt the whiskey burn the back of her throat. “I hate Jack Daniel’s.”
Tim grinned. “Yeah, I know. But we were all out of cognac and you’re going to drink it anyway. If nothing else, it’ll help get you through the next little while—talking to the boy’s parents and all.”
Kellen took another sip and stared back out the window.
When?
More than anything, that was what she wanted to know. When had the boy died? Had they not acted quickly enough in getting him out of the water? Or had he been dead the whole time she held him in her arms, fighting to keep his head above water?
When?
“We all did everything we could,” Gabe said, replacing Tim as he came and sat by her side. “We got here as quickly as we could, and even if we’d managed to get here sooner, it would have made no difference. It was over the moment he fell into the river. You know that.”
As he spoke, he casually reached out and tried to check her pulse.
Kellen jerked her hand back. “Tell Annie I’m fine.”
Gabe flashed a smile. “You may know that and I might even agree with you, but I figure if I can at least tell them I checked, that your pulse rate is fine all things considered, and that you’re not hurting anywhere more so than usual, they’ll listen to me. And maybe they’ll give you enough room to do what you need to do when we land.”
Kellen sighed and held out her arm. Felt Gabe’s fingers, warm against her wrist, while his eyes assessed her. Looking for signs of new damage, no doubt.
“Your pulse is elevated, but that doesn’t concern me as much as the fact you’re a bit warm.”
“Actually, I’m frozen all the way to my soul,” she murmured.
“I hear you.” Like the others on the team, Gabe understood, having been there a time or two. “But you’re running a temp. Are you hurting anywhere more than usual?”
Kellen swallowed the last mouthful of tea as she looked at the body bag. “It’s a low-grade fever. I drank some river water and my body’s natural defenses are kicking in. So I’m good. Nothing hurts out of the ordinary. Just a headache. And certainly nothing compared to what his parents are going to be feeling.”
“You’re right,” Gabe said thoughtfully. “I’ve never lost anyone close to me, but I would think it would be worse to lose a child.”
“Not necessarily. Not all parents give a damn,” she responded harshly before she could stop herself, as anger warred with old grief and heartache. She swore quietly, knowing she was tired and her filters were obviously not working.
“Shit.” The muscles in Gabe’s jaw pulled taut. “I’m sorry, Kellen. I wasn’t thinking.”
The air thickened, the silence deafened.
“I’m sorry, too.” She wrapped her arms tight around herself, took a deep breath, and pulled hard on her emotions. It wasn’t working. Nothing was working. But she was not going to take it out on Gabe.
She knew Gabe, much more than a lot of the others on the team, had a good idea what her childhood had been like. They’d talked some. Not a lot, just enough. And he was smart enough to have put the pieces together when Cody and Ren came to live with her.
They were survivors, she thought. The three of them. That had made them strong. And it was that strength she would use to get through what was to come—meeting with the boy’s parents.
After that, she would need to find some time alone. To meditate. To ground herself. And to find some desperately needed inner peace.
*
Dana gave Annie a minute’s lead time after she left Incident Command, then followed her out, finding her easily enough, sitting in her small office staring sightlessly out the window. “Can I do anything to help?” she asked softly.
“I love her, you know. She’s the kid sister I always wanted but never had. And I don’t want to lose her.” A long moment passed. “I just wish she wouldn’t keep taking risks. Like jumping in that damned river when she’s not yet back to full capacity.”
“Are we talking about Kellen?”
“Yes. She’s always been known for lecturing the team on safety then taking chances with a devil-may-care attitude. Always the first to make a risky helo jump, rappel down a cliff, or belly crawl on an unstable avalanche field. But ever since she got hurt, it seems like it’s been so much worse. And it’s not just me that thinks so. The whole team is worried about her. But it’s like she can’t stop. She’s too committed to the work. To the soul of it. It’s almost like she’s afraid if she slows down it might mean acknowledging she’s not yet back at one hundred percent. Or worse, that she may never be.”
Dana stared at her. Dumbfounded. “Are we still talking about Kellen? She’s hurt? What did I miss?”
Annie sighed. “I’m sorry, Dana, you didn’t miss anything. It happened just over a year ago. But it took the better part of several months post-surgery for Kellen to learn how to walk again. She’s only been back full-time with the team for a month, and while she may have moved on, I seem to be the one having trouble with it.”
Jesus Christ
. Dana shook her head in shock and disbelief. “Annie? What happened a year ago?”
“The girls—Cody and Ren—they’d been working really hard. They’d just gotten their high school diplomas. Tim, Gabe, Sam, we’d all tutored them and I suggested we recognize what they’d achieved by taking them out on a training exercise. The kids loved the idea and everyone agreed.”
Annie stopped and Dana let the silence slide for a couple of minutes before gently asking, “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Annie’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “We’d only been out a short time when a call came in about an injured climber. As it turned out, we were virtually on top of where we were needed, and although Kel said it was a difficult approach, she and Tim had done a rescue from Devil’s Tower before. There were also more than enough fully trained SAR personnel onboard, and if we needed any further incentive, we’d been told one of the climbers was bleeding rather badly.”
Dana watched as Annie fisted her hands and swallowed. “So you went ahead with the rescue?”
“Yes. There was really no other decision we could have made. We were using the winch, lowering Kellen to where the injured victim was, when she suddenly dropped. No warning. It was like she let go. She landed on the mountain ledge she’d been targeting, but it was nothing short of a miracle that she didn’t go over the edge into the misty abyss.”
Dana tried to process what Annie was saying. “How bad? How bad was she hurt?”
“Her internal injuries were severe. During her first surgery, the doctors had to work just to contain the bleeding, get it under control. Then they had to deal with all her broken bones. God, Dana, she’d broken ribs, collarbone, shoulder, wrist, both legs…and she said she couldn’t feel her legs—” Annie stopped abruptly, got up, and poured herself a cup of coffee, clearly using the time to pull herself together. She held up the carafe. “Want some?”
Dana shook her head. “I’m good, thanks.”
It took three swallows before Annie was able to continue. “It didn’t look good, and for what seemed like much too long, they weren’t sure she would make it. For several days, she remained unconscious, with no reflex, no response. There was also a spinal contusion, and no one could say whether the initial paralysis was going to be permanent or temporary if she pulled through.”
Dana swallowed hard, even though she knew the outcome had been a good one. The best one possible.
“It was difficult,” Annie said, “on everyone. Endless days at the hospital, waiting. Praying to whatever God anyone believed in. And sleepless nights filled with incessant replays, and a never-ending desire to go back. To change the past. No one understood how the hell it had happened and everyone on the team began questioning…questioning
everything
. Second guessing. Did we do all the right things when we moved her? Make the right choices? Miss something crucial? We all questioned whether we should have done something more. Something different.”
“Isn’t that pretty much the norm when people are making split-second decisions about critical medical care?”
“Yes, of course,” Annie said. “But this was different. This was the heart and soul of the team lying in a hospital bed in a coma. We were afraid we’d never see her alive again. Or if she somehow made it through, if she somehow survived, that she would never walk again. That was unimaginable. We’re talking about a woman whose life revolves around hiking, climbing, skiing, and of course, SAR. And then on top of everything else, there was the investigation to contend with.”
“What investigation?”
Annie met Dana’s eyes. “It turned out it wasn’t an equipment malfunction that caused Kellen’s fall.”
“Oh? Then what was it?”
“She was shot. Someone deliberately shot her.”
Kellen wasn’t sure whether it was the aftereffects from her prolonged dip in the river or her chaotic emotions that had her shaking. She shivered in the sunshine and her voice lost momentum near the end. But at least she managed to get through what she needed to do without embarrassing herself or her team.
She met with Roger and Andrea Donaldson, handled their outpouring of grief and rage, then gently arranged for the return of their son’s body.
At some point during the soul-numbing process, she became aware of another man’s presence. Standing in the shadows of pine and spruce as they pressed in. At no time did he intrude on the Donaldson family’s tragedy. He simply stood there and watched.
But Kellen saw him. And recognized him. After all, it hadn’t been that long since they’d last spoken to each other. Just as she now knew it wouldn’t be long before they spoke once again.
This was the cop, she understood immediately. The one who had scared Cody and Ren into believing they might need to run. But Kellen knew he was no ordinary cop. No, the man with the military haircut, craggy face, deep-set eyes, and dark blue suit was an agent with the FBI. Special Agent Calvin Grant.
For an instant, she wondered if he’d finally found out who had shot her. If he’d found the person who had nearly succeeded in killing her and had stolen almost a year of her life.
But no. That would classify as good news, and good news wouldn’t have Special Agent Grant hanging back in the shadows. Only bad news waited in the shadows.
They made brief eye contact while she spoke to the county coroner. It sent a chill through her already frozen body and left her hopelessly caught between conflicting desires. Fight and flight. She gave him full marks for not intruding, simply watching from a distance, his shoulders hunched against the cold.
But she didn’t give him an opportunity to approach her. Instead, in the emotional aftermath that surrounded the transfer of a thirteen-year-old boy’s body to the coroner and his parents, Kellen slipped away.
Easing slowly behind the main building, she cut through an interconnecting hallway between two buildings and back out again, whistling for Bogart as she ran into the woods.
Fear had a taste all its own. It also had a feel, like an icy fist reaching inside her, finding her broken places and twisting them. In that instant, Bogart appeared at her side out of nowhere. As if he knew she needed him. And then they ran together until they reached her cabin.
*
Dana stayed in the background, still as a stone. The people around her, watching the helicopter land, were equally still. The three Donaldsons, the county coroner, and members of the Alpine team all stood in a solemn show of respect.
Kellen came out first. There were signs of fatigue on her face, and Dana caught a flash of something in her bruised eyes. Anger and sorrow. Then it was gone and they were simply blue.
She stood tall as she approached the family. Took a telltale breath and spoke softly to the grief-stricken couple and their remaining son. Remained calm when Andrea Donaldson railed at the God that had forsaken her son, slipped from her husband’s restraining hand, and crowded into Kellen. Pounding briefly on Kellen’s chest before collapsing in her arms.
Kellen remained beside them. Supporting Mrs. Donaldson on one side while her husband supported her on the other as their son’s body was removed from the helicopter and placed in the coroner’s vehicle.
Everything that happened did so according to plan. But at some point during the exchange, Dana heard a discordant note in her head that had nothing to do with grief. It caught her by surprise and she looked around, trying to determine what was off, what was out of place and didn’t belong in the emotional tableau before her. And then she saw him.
He was standing shadowed by the trees that crowded the clearing. Late forties, tall and heavyset, with a military haircut and a dark blue suit, he couldn’t have looked more out of place in a skier’s mecca.
Her years working emergency departments in New York and Boston had her immediately pegging him as a cop, but not local or state. Something told her this was genus FBI. But it wasn’t just his unexplained appearance that was troubling. What made Dana increasingly uncomfortable was the way he was watching Kellen. Much too intently.