Known (14 page)

Before Michael Brody arrived at the ranger station, he suspected he knew more about Dr. Gianna Trask then his quiet brother, who’d been with her for the last twenty-four hours. A couple of quick phone calls at the start of his journey had yielded fascinating fruit by the time he’d come upon the massive wreck that’d closed the highway.

Gianna Trask had a unique legacy. At one point when she was very young, she’d been in every gossip magazine and on every national news show. But her fifteen minutes had been brief. She’d been a child when her parents had died in a manner that’d caught the nation’s attention. According to the old articles his assistant had dug up, Gianna Trask had no recollection of the car accident.

Every molecule in his body ached to interview her.

She had to remember
something
.

She’d done well for herself, considering her tragic past. A respected forensic pathologist. A daughter who did well in school. Michael’s sources had rapidly dug under a lot of rocks.

Why did she choose Oregon? She’s barely settled in and ends up adjacent to two murders?

His thoughts had raced as his Land Rover handled the snowy roads with ease, churning past dozens of abandoned cars. Drivers had patiently waited on the sides of the road for the highway to reopen, but when the word had gone out that it would be closed down for at least twenty-four hours, they’d discovered their vehicles couldn’t manage the drive back to town. There was a dystopian feel to the highway. Lonely and deserted. Police had long since cleared out the people, and for many miles Michael felt like the only human alive.

A single well-placed call had cleared him to pass the accident. The primary wreck was a sight. Semis, cars, trucks. Some of their makes and colors unrecognizable. Even with the state troopers’ orders to let him through, the one he talked to still gave him crap. “Don’t make more work for us. If you get stuck, we don’t have the time to come find you. We just got the last body out an hour ago. This investigation is going to take days.”

“I’m going only a few miles and then turning around. Think of it like I’m doing you a favor to get out this stranded group.”

The trooper wasn’t amused. “Make it fast.” He directed Michael to a narrow path through the disaster that’d been cleared to get the ambulances in and out of the snowy scene.

Michael drove slowly, fighting his desire to stop and take photos of the burned-out husks and crumpled vehicles. He transferred his reporter’s instincts back to the topic of Gianna Trask. There was a story there; he knew it. Even if the shooter in the forest turned out to simply be a local nut with a gun, no one had publicly interviewed Gianna in decades.

She was a survivor.

Just like Chris. Michael shook his head. Knowing his introverted brother’s silent ways, he suspected Chris and Gianna had no idea how much they had in common. A lot had changed in the years since Chris had come back into Michael’s life.

Two decades ago Michael’s brother Daniel had vanished along with several other children and their school bus driver. Chris Jacobs had lived. Nearly dead, he’d stumbled out of the forest two years later with no memory of what had happened. Michael had hated the boy for surviving while his brother was still missing.

But the survivor had a secret. He was Daniel Brody and had assumed Chris Jacobs’s identity to protect the very public and political Brody family from a killer. The real Chris had died while escaping with Daniel from their captor. Chris had kept his mouth shut, protecting his secret for years, interacting as little as possible with society as he tried to heal and live as his deceased friend.

While looking for Chris two years ago, Michael had fallen for the real Chris’s sister, Jamie, and then discovered his secret. Because he’d lived longer as Chris than as Daniel Brody, Chris had kept the stolen name. Now the three of them were a tight-knit but incestuous-sounding family.

Michael wouldn’t have had it any other way. He’d gained his brother, a nephew, and the love of his life during that hot summer.

Michael understood the stress that had been in Chris’s voice when he talked about leaving the ranger and the other shooting victim behind in the forest. As a teen Chris had had his heart ripped to shreds when he’d been forced to leave his dead friend behind in the woods to escape their kidnapper.

Even after Chris had accepted that he no longer had to hide, he’d refused help coping with his guilt. He’d tried a few therapists at Jamie’s urging, but it never lasted. Talking wasn’t Chris’s strong point.

Good thing Michael could tell what his brother was thinking with a single glance. Jamie could, too.

A squat building appeared on the side of the road, a sign marking it as the ranger station. It’d taken him nearly an hour to reach the location. A figure moved to the center of the snow-covered highway and waved his arms.
Chris.
Michael smiled, relief flowing through him. A golden dog danced into the road, jumping in circles around the black figure. Two other figures stood outside the building, one in a pink coat and another in pale green. It appeared they’d just made it to the ranger station.

Michael slowed to a stop and stepped out of the SUV. A rare grin beamed on Chris’s face. Michael pulled him into a bear hug and pounded on his back. “Here I am, saving your ass again.” He turned to greet the two women.

Gianna Trask was tiny. Her direct brown gaze studied him as Chris made introductions. Violet was her mirror image, only slightly taller and with that youthful freshness of a teenager. Oro planted his front paws on Michael’s chest, a final set of dark eyes that were grateful to see him. “Hey, boy.” He rubbed the happy dog’s head.

“Thank you so much for coming to get us,” Gianna said. Michael sized her up. “Confident” and “competent” were his first impressions. A large brown smear covered part of her coat. His gaze locked on it and her gloved hand brushed it self-consciously, but she said nothing.

How close was she when the ranger was shot?

“We were just about to go inside,” Chris said. “But let’s put our stuff in the back of your truck.”

He was already grabbing two large duffel bags from a pair of sleds. He lifted the back window to Michael’s SUV and loaded them in. Violet scrambled to grab a few boxes of food and supplies. “How much did you pack?” Michael asked.

“I didn’t know if our trip would take three hours or three days,” said Chris. “I was prepared for both. I’ll feel more secure once I see pavement, but for now I’ll settle for some heat inside the station.”

Gianna and Violet chimed in their agreement.

Two pale-green forest service trucks were parked in front of the building, their tracks hidden in the new snow. Chris grabbed Gianna’s arm as she nearly lost her footing in an icy spot.

Michael blinked.

Nah. He’s just being polite.

But the length of time that Chris had looked at Gianna after she’d slipped had been more than polite.

Michael glanced at Violet, who’d hung back to hook a leash onto Oro’s collar. The teen hadn’t seemed to notice anything. He waved them all ahead and brought up the rear as they tramped up the snowy path to the door and walked right in.

It was as if they’d stepped back into the 1970s. The ceilings in the waiting room were uncomfortably low and the fake wood paneling had discolored from years of sun. The tile floor reminded Michael of an old grocery store, and the seats of the folding chairs had lost their padding. Down the narrow hall to the right, a man stepped out of an office and headed their way. “Can I help you?” The heavyset man wore the tan-and-green uniform that Michael associated with the forest service.

Chris stepped forward, holding out a hand. “Phil, right?”

The ranger shook his hand and squinted at Chris. “Yeah, you own the place up on Road 359, right?”

His brother nodded. “Right. You helped me out with some permits.”

“Glad to see you’re not snowed in,” Phil said. “Frisco is out making rounds to check on people in the area.”

Chris and Gianna exchanged a look.

Phil picked up on the tension. “What happened?”

“Frisco came out to my place this morning,” said Chris. “He’d already been to the Abell cabin where Gianna and Violet were renting.” He gestured at the two women. “The Abell cabin burned down the night before last. These two were lucky to get out. I smelled the smoke and went over there and brought them back to my place. When Frisco and Gianna went back to the Abell place this morning, someone shot at them.”

“What?” Phil’s thick brows shot halfway up his forehead.

“Frisco was killed.”

Phil stared for a long moment at Chris, and then looked to Michael, who nodded. “You’re saying Frisco Green was murdered this morning,” he said slowly. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No,” said Gianna. “I was on the porch with him when he was shot. I managed to get out of there with his snowmobile.”

Phil tilted his head to one side, considering her. “Maybe he wasn’t dead. Did you check? Maybe—”

“I’m a medical examiner,” Gianna cut in, her voice cracking. “His head injury was lethal. He died instantly.” She sniffed and wiped her nose with her glove. Violet stepped closer to her mom, their shoulders touching.

“I need to make a call,” Phil said slowly, his gaze moving between the adults as if hoping one of them would say they were kidding. He started to take a step back to the hallway.

“That’s not all,” said Chris. “Someone was murdered inside the Abell cabin. Or murdered and his body left in the cabin.”

Phil froze, his wide eyes blinking slowly, reminding Michael of an owl. With a small turn of his head, he yelled down the hall. “Jason?” His gaze stayed on the group. “You’re telling me you’re reporting two murders. Frisco and who’s the other one?”

“We don’t know,” stated Chris.

The group went silent. Michael heard a chair with squeaky wheels down the hall. A second man appeared and headed their way. Jason was young, his skin red with acne, and Michael wondered if he was old enough to drink. The young man’s eyes lit up when he spotted Oro, and his gaze lingered on Violet as he joined the group. Chris frowned.

“Have you heard from Frisco today?” Phil asked, still looking at the adults.

“Not since he left this morning.”

“I need you to take a statement from these folks while I try to reach someone at OSP.”

“I’ll grab a notepad.” Jason left.

“I know you guys are swamped with the wreck toward town,” Michael said. “I passed it coming up here. OSP is helping out with it, too.”

One eyebrow rose this time. “How’d you get past the roadblock? They’re not supposed to let anyone through.”

“I know the right people to ask, and I wanted to get these guys out and back to town. But you’ll need to have someone go back to the cabins and figure out what happened.”

“With an active shooter possibly hanging around?” Phil shook his head. “I’ll contact OSP to handle it.”

Jason reappeared, a yellow legal pad in his hand. “Why don’t you head back this way and we can use the conference room. I started a fresh pot of coffee.”

They started to follow the young ranger.

“Jason,” Phil said. The ranger stopped and looked back. “It appears that Frisco was murdered this morning and that these folks witnessed it. There was a shooting at the Abell cabin.”

Jason didn’t move as his face whitened. “Is that true?” Jason whispered, looking at Chris and then Violet. The young man seemed to shrink inside his uniform.

Violet nodded, her eyes wet.

He looked at all their faces a minute longer, seeing the confirmation, and his expression grew numb. Jason gestured for them to follow as he turned down the hallway. Phil stepped into an office and closed the door.

Chris waved the women in front of him and followed. Michael had already reported the deaths to his contact at the Oregon State Police. Hopefully Phil’s call would speed up the response and they’d get some investigators on the scene.

Three hours and several pots of coffee later, they were still waiting for the OSP detectives to show up.

During the long wait, Chris felt sorry for Violet, who’d stretched out on the ragged couch in the forest service break room. She’d fallen asleep in minutes. Gianna cast longing looks at her sleeping daughter, and Chris knew why she wasn’t sleeping. Too many questions buzzing around her brain; he had the same problem.

Who shot Frisco?

Whose body is in the cabin?

He and Gianna had been watching old DVDs of the TV show
Friends
, because there wasn’t cable or dish service in the remote station. “I could never decide if I wanted to be Monica or Rachel,” mumbled Gianna, during an episode with Tom Selleck. “Neither one was quite right.”

“I never wanted to be any of the guys,” answered Chris. “They weren’t exactly role models.”

“Who did you idolize growing up?” Gianna asked.

Chris glanced through the window at Michael, who was pacing outdoors and gesturing as he spoke on his cell phone. “Hard to say.”

“Try.”

She rested her chin on one hand, a small smile on her face as she waited for his answer.