Pitch Black (2 page)

“Thank you.”

After hanging up, Madison made herself a cup of tea and tried to stop thinking of Ethan with a broken leg after a misstep on the muddy slope of the mountain.

At two-thirty she picked up the telephone again. After only a moment’s hesitation, she dialed Gabriel Wyatt’s cell phone.

He picked up on the first ring. “Sheriff Wyatt.”

“Hi, Gabe, it’s Madison. Do you have a minute?”

“Well hello, Maddie. If you’re calling to cancel our date, no, I don’t.” His teasing knocked the sharp edge off her tension. She didn’t even take him to task over calling her Maddie—only her father called her Maddie, the placating bastard.

On Gabe’s smooth Southern tongue, the nickname seemed to lose the capacity to annoy.

“I’m calling about Ethan,” she said.

“Oh?”

“Well, it’s probably nothing. . . .”

“Get on then and say it.”

“He’s not home from camping with Mr. McPherson yet.”

“If you can trust anyone with your son on that mountain, it’s Steve McPherson. He spends more time up there than he does here in town.”

“Yes, but . . . two hours—”

“Is nothing when you’re hauling camping gear and teenage boys off a mountain in the rain.”

“You think so?”

“I do. But if it’d make you feel better, I suppose I could drive up to the trailhead where Steve parks his van and check things out.”

“I hate to impose. . . . ”

“No problem.” After a short pause he added, “How about if I pick you up and you can keep me company?”

It would make her feel better to be doing something proactive, rather than sitting around imagining all sorts of horrible things. And, she rationalized, it’d give her a chance to cancel their date.

“What if they show up here?” she asked.

“Does Ethan have a key?”

“Yes.”

“Leave him a note. He can call your cell phone if he gets home. Besides, it’s a two-lane road; we’re sure to spot them going the other way.”

She hesitated.

“Maddie,” he sighed. “The boy survived alone on those Yankee city streets. An hour alone in your cozy little house shouldn’t be a huge challenge.”

“You’re right.” She heard the lack of conviction in her own voice. “Of course, you’re right. I’ll check back to make sure Jordan’s mom hasn’t heard anything.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay.” She started to hang up, then said, “Gabe!”

“Yeah?”

“I know I’m probably being silly. Thank you for humoring me.”

“Believe me, it’s my pleasure to humor you.”

She heard him chuckling as he hung up.

SHEETS OF RAIN SLASHED
against Gabe’s SUV. Gusts of wind buffeted the heavy vehicle as if it was made of cardboard. Although the wipers thumped back and forth on high speed, looking through the windshield was like trying to focus through textured glass. Madison found herself leaning forward, straining to see where the winding narrow unpaved road gave way to rocky, tree-filled ditches on each side. Her cold hand blanched white as she gripped the passenger door handle.

Gabe’s Jeep was several years old and took the bumps about as gracefully as a log wagon. More than once, the tires momentarily slipped on the muddy incline.

Driving in the mountains on a clear day made her insides pucker; she’d be nauseous driving in this weather, and she wasn’t doing much better as a passenger. Daring to take her eyes away from the road long enough for a quick glance at Gabe, she saw he had a relaxed grip on the wheel. His face bore no sign of strain; in fact, he was smiling.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” she said.

He turned to face her fully, his smile widening. “I am.”

“Hey!” She pointed ahead. “Keep your eyes on the road, mister!”

With a chuckle, he obeyed and said, “How can a guy not have a good time with a woman bossing him around like that?”

“I just want to come back down off this mountain whole and unbroken. Smile at me later.”

He turned that innocent-yet-oh-so-suggestive smile her way again. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

“The road,” she ordered. “Mule trail” would have been a more appropriate term. It had narrowed so much that the undergrowth was nearly scraping the sides of the car.

A few seconds later, he slowed. The Jeep bounced through the shallow ditch and he pulled through a break in the vegetation that Madison hadn’t even seen. They stopped in a small, relatively flat area that was a quagmire of mud and flattened weeds. Gabe called it a cove. The mountain took a serious thrust upward from this spot.

“There’s Steve’s van,” he said.

It was the only vehicle there. “I see he’s the only one crazy enough to still be out in this weather.”

“Never seen Steve McPherson daunted by a little weather.”

She glanced at the steep path that headed into the woods and up the mountain. “We should go up after them—something might be wrong.”

“Now
that
would be crazy. You don’t just take off in this terrain with no preparation, no one knowing where you are, especially in this weather.” He pointed to her feet. “You don’t even have on decent shoes.”

She looked down. “I’ll have you know these boots were the envy of all of my co-workers in Philly.”

With a crooked, knowing grin he said, “No doubt. They’re sexy as hell. But those heels are guaranteed to cause a broken ankle within the first hundred yards.”

Again, she felt oddly out of her depth. How could she be so unprepared for a safer, simpler life?

“Can we call a park ranger or something?”

He shook his head. “This isn’t park land—even so, a call for a search is premature. Steve knows what he’s doing. Maybe he’s waiting it out. Some of the trail is pretty steep.”

“Does he always camp in the same place?”

“Same general area. He knows that helps . . . just in case we have to go looking for him.”

“I feel so stupid. I didn’t ask half of the questions I should have before I let Ethan go. Jordan’s mom said her husband takes Jordan all of the time. I just assumed . . . ” She shook her head at her own naiveté. The rain drummed on the Jeep’s roof. She shivered. “I had no idea it was so—rough. I had in mind the kinds of camping areas I’ve seen in small state parks—you know, easy access, lots of people around, permits required. Nothing like this.”

He patted her hand. “See why a couple of hours late doesn’t alarm anyone?”

Madison left her hand beneath his and nodded, keeping her eyes on the inclining trail that was quickly swallowed by dark woods. In contrast to her feelings as she’d viewed it from the warmth and safety of her home, the thick forest suddenly seemed more menacing than tranquil. And Gabe’s logical argument for the group’s delayed return didn’t quell her rising panic. Something had felt off since she’d awakened this morning.

Gabe suggested, “We can wait here until they come back.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “I mean, how much razzing will Ethan get if his mom’s waiting for him?” And how would she explain herself to him and keep with their no-bullshit pact?

“Maybe it’s not Ethan’s mom who’s waiting. Maybe it’s Sheriff Wyatt fulfilling his county duties.”

“Oh sure,” she said. “The only way that’s going to work is if I hide in the backseat and they don’t see me.”

“Works for me.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Climb over and you can duck down at the first sign of them.”

Turning sideways in the seat, she said, “I’m not going to climb over—”

“Too late. There they are.”

The instant she laid eyes on the four boys emerging from the forest, the bottom dropped out of her stomach. “Something’s wrong.”

Gabe was already out of the car and striding toward the boys. He moved so quickly, he left the driver’s door standing open.

With her heart in her throat, she threw open her door and jumped out. Cold rain slapped her in the face. With her second step, her foot twisted on a rock. Pain sliced her ankle and shot up her leg, but she didn’t break stride as she ran toward Ethan.

The boys looked like the final scene in a slasher film. None of them had on jackets. In defiance of the downpour, dark smears of mud refused to let go of their clothes and skin.
Fishbelly white.
It was a term used by her grandfather. She’d never realized what it meant until now. Their lips, darkened by the cold, contrasted grotesquely with the pasty, translucent whiteness of their faces.

Jordan’s arms were slung around the necks of Ethan and another boy. Jordan’s head hung low, his steps dragged in a shuffle.

By the time she caught up with Gabe, he was scooping Jordan into his arms. She looked beyond the boys; no one followed on the trail. “Where’s Mr. McPherson?”

Relieved of their burden, Ethan and the other boy swayed weakly, but didn’t take another step forward.

Jordan, very small for his age to begin with, looked frighteningly frail in Gabe’s arms. His lower lip was slightly swollen, oddly blue-purple against his translucent skin. Inanimate as death, the boy didn’t even blink the rain out of his eyes.

The fourth boy, a kid built like a future linebacker, sat heavily on the ground, heedless of the muddy brown puddle he landed in. He buried his face in his grimy hands and sobbed. It was a sound teetering between relief and devastation.

Madison wrapped her arms around Ethan, their unspoken ban on sappiness be damned. “Where is Mr. McPherson?”

Ethan pulled back and looked up at her with hollow eyes. “Dead.”

Chapter 2

A
CHILL BEYOND THAT of the wind-driven rain reached deep into Madison’s heart, strangling her lungs with an icy grip. Dead? Steve McPherson was dead. Her gaze cut from Ethan to Gabe. He apparently hadn’t heard Ethan’s choked response. He was a few steps away, trying to open a door on McPherson’s van while still cradling Jordan.

Dear God.
“What happened?”

“An accident.” The wind tried to gobble up Ethan’s words, but his face blazed with fierce conviction. This was a side of him she hadn’t seen of late; that slight jutting of chin and rigidity of shoulders, the stance of a child used to being dismissed, disbelieved, and disregarded.

“What kind of accident—”

“It’s locked,” Gabe called.

Madison looked up, squinting against the rain.

“I’m putting him in my car.” Gabe started toward the Jeep. “He’s like ice. Bring the others.”

The linebacker in the puddle made no move to get up. He’d wrapped his arms around his knees and was rocking back and forth.

Madison put an arm around Ethan and the boy standing next to him. “Get in the car.” She set them in motion toward the Jeep. Then she knelt before the boy sitting in the puddle. She was already chilled, but the cold of the wet ground quickly made her knees ache. This boy had to be near numb.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you out of the rain.”

The boy didn’t respond, keeping his face buried in his arms. Rain ran in a stream off his hair, splattering into the puddle between his feet.

He was much too big for her to heft up off the ground. She laid a hand on his arm. “It’s warm in the Jeep. The other boys are already over there.”

Slowly the boy raised his eyes to meet hers. He looked bewildered. It took a moment for his gaze to register her presence.

“I’m Ethan’s mom,” she said, leaning closer. “Let’s go. The sheriff’ll get you boys home.”

“Wh-wh-what about . . . ?” His gaze moved upward, toward the trail.

“Sheriff Wyatt will take care of him, too.”

“We just left him.” The boy squeezed his eyes closed, his mouth screwed into a tight frown and his chin trembled. “We just left him there. . . . ”

“What’s your name?”

The boy ran his forearm across his runny nose. “J.D.”

“It’s okay, J.D. You did what you had to do. You did what Mr. McPherson would have wanted you to do.” She put her hands under his elbows. “Let’s go to the car.”

He faltered as he got to his feet. Struggling to keep her own feet beneath her on the soggy ground, Madison managed to steady him until he was able to move forward.

Ethan and the other boy were already in the backseat. She guided J.D. to the front passenger seat, which was soaked with rain, but the heat was blowing full force.

“Just sit here for a minute.” She closed the door and went around to where Gabe had the rear hatch open. He’d laid Jordan in the cargo compartment and covered him with his own coat.

He was rubbing Jordan’s hands and saying, “Jordan? Come on, buddy, look at me. You’re going to be all right. Come on, Jordan.”

Jordan’s eyes remained unfocused and he only moved when Gabe physically moved him.

Ethan was on his knees, leaning over the backseat, his worried gaze fixed on his friend. “He stopped talking hours ago. The last time we stopped to rest he wouldn’t even look at me.”

Madison leaned close to Gabe’s ear. “Ethan said Steve McPherson’s dead.”

Gabe stopped rubbing. His gaze snapped to Madison’s face. “Christ! How?”

“An accident,” she said softly, then glanced meaningfully toward Jordan. “I don’t know more than that.”

“Was Jordan injured, too?” Gabe asked Ethan.

“No.” He paused. “At least—not that— No.”

“And you’re certain about Mr. McPherson . . . beyond any doubt?”

Ethan nodded gravely. “
Very
sure. It . . . it happened late last night.”

No one seemed willing to say outright in front of an already traumatized Jordan that his stepdad was lying alone and dead on the mountain. Even though, from the looks of the boy, he wasn’t hearing anything at all.

“Where is he?” Gabe asked.

Ethan said, “Near the bottom of a waterfall.”

“Harp Falls or Black Rock Falls?”

“Black Rock, the tall one.”

Before Gabe could ask another question, Jordan began to shake.

“What’s wrong with him?” Panic sharpened Ethan’s tone. “Why is he doing that?”

“Shock. We’ve got to get him to the hospital.” Gabe turned to Madison. “You drive. I’ll stay back here with Jordan.”

“No way. I’ll stay with Jordan.” She climbed into the back of the Jeep, lifting Jordan’s head and shoulders into her lap. She pulled the hem of her sweater from beneath her jacket and dried the boy’s face. “Shouldn’t you call someone to go after . . . ?”

“I can’t from here; no radio. I will as soon as we get out of this dead area.”

The Jeep lurched when Gabe put it in gear, then rocked and bucked over the uneven ground as he turned it around.

“Ethan. Sit,” Gabe said.

Madison looked up.

Ethan was still hanging over the backseat. “M, is he gonna be okay?”

“We need to get him to a hospital,” she said. “Sit down and fasten your seat belt.”

ONCE THEY REACHED AN AREA
where the radio repeaters would transmit a signal to dispatch, Gabe got the ball rolling for a recovery team. He gave the location of the body, then said, “I want Carter in charge.”

Beth, the dispatcher, acknowledged, then asked, “Anything else?”

Gabe thought of Jordan’s mental condition and the quietness of the other boys. “Just have him secure the scene, photograph, and let the ME begin her investigation. I don’t want the body moved or anything disturbed until I get there. Tell Carter that unless we get real lucky, he’s not going to have radio up there.”

“Will do.”

“And call Bobby Gray and Kate McPherson and have them meet us at the hospital.” He hoped Jordan seeing his parents would ease him out of his disconnected state. Divorced or not, Kate and Bobby had remained friends; Kate was going to need Bobby there when she got the news of Steve’s death.

Gabe signed off and looked over at J.D. Henry. The boy’s head rested against the window, his eyes closed. Every exhaled breath increased the circumference of fog on the glass.

“J.D.?”

After a few seconds, J.D. opened his eyes, but stared straight ahead.

“What happened up there?” Gabe asked.

J.D. blinked sluggishly. “Mr. McP died.”

“How?”

A look of revulsion contorted J.D.’s face. “He had this big gash in his head.” He put his hand on the side of his own head. “There was blood all over.”

“Ethan said it happened last night.”

J.D. nodded. “Just before dark.”

“Can you tell me how it happened?”

“I guess he fell.”

“You weren’t there?”

J.D. shook his head. “Colin and I were in camp. We didn’t know anything until Ethan started yelling for help.”

“Where were they?”

“Clear down by the creek, near the waterfall.”

“What did you see when you got there?”

“Jordan was running around yelling and crying. Ethan was kneeling beside Mr. McP on the ground.” J.D. swallowed convulsively. “He didn’t even look like a person—” He groaned and grabbed for the door handle. “Stop! I’m gonna puke!”

Gabe stopped.

J.D. released his seat belt, opened the door, and hung his head out.

Gabe looked in the rearview mirror. Colin had his eyes closed and didn’t open them. Ethan had his arm over the back of the seat, his hand on Madison’s shoulder. His attention focused on Jordan.

When J.D. pulled himself back into the car, he was still ashen. Gabe handed him a bottle of water. “Rinse and spit. Don’t drink.”

J.D. silently did as he was told.

Gabe decided to hold the rest of his questions for now.

BY PULLING INTO THE AMBULANCE BAY AT THE HOSPITAL
, Gabe managed to get the boys into the ER without Kate and Bobby seeing Jordan. He wanted to break the news of Steve’s accident and prepare them for Jordan’s detached state. After the boys were all in the hands of health professionals, and the other parents had been notified, he went to the emergency waiting room to get Jordan’s parents.

The instant Gabe set eyes on Kate, it became clear she was going to need Bobby even more than he’d imagined. She sat folded in on herself, looking as small and frightened as a child. Jordan had taken after her; fair and slight of build, with a fragile temperament. Bobby’s tall, dark, and athletic genes had to be buried somewhere very deep in the boy’s DNA.

When Bobby saw Gabe, he sprang out of his chair. “Where’s Jordan? Is he okay?”

“He’s being attended to. He’s suffering from exposure and exhaustion, a couple of bruises and scrapes, but he’s not badly injured.”

Kate closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, her pleading gaze fastened on Gabe and she asked in a raspy whisper, “And Steve?”

“Come with me, please.”

Bobby shot a panicky look at Gabe before he silently helped Kate to her feet and across the tile floor toward the double doors to the ER. Gabe felt the pitying eyes of everyone in the waiting room follow them. Bad news traveled fast in a town the size of Buckeye, but not this fast. Even without details, the bystanders had to know news from the sheriff in the ER probably wasn’t good.

Once away from the public area, Gabe directed them into a small conference room. It held four teal-colored vinyl chairs, a small round table with two six-month-old magazines and a box of tissues, and an X-ray viewing box. He directed the couple to sit.

“There was an accident on the mountain. Steve suffered a fall . . . I’m sorry, Kate, but he’s still up there. I’ve sent a recovery team and am headed back up there myself as soon as I get a few more answers here.”

“He’s going to be all right though, isn’t he?” Desperate hope colored her voice.

“I haven’t received a report yet. We’ll know more in a few hours.”

She recoiled as if he’d physically struck her. “You think he’s dead!”

“I didn’t say that.”
Not until I have official confirmation.

It appeared she wasn’t breathing.

Gabe knelt in front of her. “Kate. Kate, look at me.”

Her stunned gaze shifted to him.

“Now take a breath.”

She drew a shuddery breath.

“Good. Now, Jordan’s safe, he’s not injured, but he’s in shock.” That was the only word he could think to describe the weird, detached state that seemed to have latched onto her son. “The four boys walked down off the mountain in the storm. Jordan has been through a lot. He’ll need you two to be there for him.” He glanced at Bobby, who nodded and put a hand on Kate’s shoulder.

“How . . . how did he fall?” Kate’s voice slid below a whisper.

“We’re still sorting things out. What’s important right now is taking care of Jordan. I wanted you to have time to collect yourselves before you see him.”

Tears slid down her cheeks as she gave a jerky nod.

Bobby slid his hand across her shoulders and pulled her close. She leaned into him in a way that sparked a flash of memory. When Gabe had been a freshman in high school and Bobby and Kate had been seniors, a friend of Kate’s had been killed in an automobile accident. The news had come during a basketball game. Kate had collapsed. Bobby, the lead scorer and team captain, left the basketball floor, picked her up, and carried her out of the gym. Not for the first time, Gabe wondered how two people who had spent their entire lives as best friends could have a marriage that ended in divorce. What did it take to hold a marriage together these days?

That thought brought another. “Do you want me to call anyone for you? Is Todd on his way here?”

A thin whine came from deep in Kate’s throat. “He’s at work . . . at the video store. He’ll be so upset. . . . ”

Bobby said to Gabe, “I’ll call him.”

“I’ll give y’all a few minutes.” Gabe left the room before Kate got herself together enough to ask why, if Steve was injured, one of the boys hadn’t stayed with him.

Jesus, sometimes Gabe hated the fact that the size of this community meant he was familiar with almost everyone. Not for the first time, he longed for the anonymity of breaking bad news to people he didn’t know.

AS HE MADE HIS WAY
to Ethan’s ER cubicle, Gabe considered the stress this unfortunate incident would put on Ethan and Madison. They were new here and the transition from city to small town—
Southern
small town at that—had been a little rocky for both of them. For the first few weeks, Ethan hadn’t seemed able to shake the edgy posture of someone waiting for trouble. He had moved through their community looking as if he was expecting someone to come up and knock him off his feet. Only recently had Gabe noticed the wary rigidity of the boy’s body beginning to relax. And when Ethan began to relax, so did his mother.

Gabe paused just outside the treatment room, looking at Madison through a gap in the curtain. Her skin looked washed out under the harsh fluorescent lighting. He didn’t know if her lack of color was from the cold or worry.

Her dark hair had begun to curl as it dried, giving her a softer, more feminine look than her usual straight style. He wanted to tell her she should wear her hair that way all of the time, but then, it really wasn’t his place. Not that he hadn’t been doing everything in his power to maneuver himself into that place.

Ever since he’d laid eyes on her at a county commissioners meeting, asking the kinds of questions that only an outsider would even think of asking, Gabe had been trying to coax her closer. It was a bit like trying to tame a wild animal—although more along the lines of a cougar than a soft-eyed doe. Like a mountain cat, he could see the hunger in her eyes, yet she kept her distance, wary of what he offered in his open hand.

Madison Wade was a strong, confident woman and she’d been determined not to open her life to complications. He had to wait until that hunger overcame caution. But just to speed things along, he’d made certain he was close enough for her to smell the meat as often as possible.

He’d just begun to convince her that she didn’t have to choose between being a mother and being a woman. He hoped this experience wouldn’t make her shy away again.