Stranded (11 page)

“Who is that?” Alex said.

“I think that’s Mike Donovan’s daughter, Sarah. Didn’t Nate tell you he and she got together while trying to figure out who killed her dad?”

“He hinted around but nothing definite. Guess he wanted to show, not tell,” Alex said as he pulled to a stop. “She’s sure a heck of a lot prettier than Mike.”

Jessica knew that after her father’s murder, Sarah and Nate had spent a few very intense days together outwitting a determined killer. And in that time, according to Nate, they’d fallen in love. Since then, Sarah had moved to Arizona to be near Nate and started veterinarian school to fulfill a lifelong dream.

The two of them slid into the backseat, so obviously in love that it made Jessica smile. She’d never seen Nate like this, never seen his eyes dance and his lips twist into a smile every time someone spoke. “I brought my girl,” Nate said as they all shook hands across the seat backs.

“I tried to get him to warn you,” Sarah said, directing her comment to both Jessica and Alex. “He wanted me to be a surprise. I hope I’m not a terrible inconvenience.”

“Of course you aren’t,” Jessica said warmly. “I’m delighted I’ll have some company while these two dive on the plane. Unless you’re also a diver, of course, and plan to go down with them.”

“I’m not a diver but when Nate asked if I wanted to come, I jumped at the chance,” she explained. “I’ve heard an awful lot about that lake. I want to see it with my own eyes.”

“You and me both,” Nate said. He gazed at Jessica for a moment and added, “You look absolutely beautiful. Pending motherhood agrees with you.”

She smiled her thanks.

For Jessica, the ride back to the house along with sitting around the table and discussing plans for the next day while eating take-out Chinese food were some of the nicest times she’d had in recent memory. When their marriage began to come apart at the seams, they’d stopped socializing as a couple. She’d forgotten how charming Alex could be when he was relaxed and comfortable, and not having other Blunt Falls police officers around to talk shop with was kind of refreshing.

Not that Nate didn’t talk law enforcement. He was a deputy, after all, and he’d been doing that as long as Alex had been in the police department. What they spoke about tonight, however, was pertinent to all of them because they’d all been touched by the delusional madness of the Shatterhorn man with the warped agenda.

And they’d all been left with the knowledge that it wasn’t over, that their bad guy wasn’t the only crackpot around.

Alex told them about the former employee of the Shatterhorn Killer who had reportedly called a suspect in Seattle about another case and mentioned Blunt Falls in the conversation. “Agent Struthers thinks the reference ties back to someone here in town who was involved with my plane crash,” he concluded.

“Any idea who?”

“None.”

“Who was this guy?”

“We were given the alias he used in Nevada. William Tucker, sixtyish, tanned, bald. Cold eyes. Do you want to see a photo?”

“Sure,” Nate said.

Alex stood and started off to the den. “I’m not sure why this guy would bother coming after me, though. I’m no longer a threat.”

“Someone thinks you are,” Nate called after Alex, who soon returned with the photo in hand. “Here. Ever seen him?”

Nate nodded. “Once, but not in person and not tanned like this. I saw him on a closed-circuit screen over an intercom. I wondered what happened to him after his boss was hit and killed by that car. I even wondered if this guy was behind the wheel.”

Sarah had gotten to her feet and come to take a look. “I don’t recognize him,” she said.

“You didn’t get out of the car, you never saw him,” Nate said. He turned his attention back to Alex. “I take it neither of you has seen this guy around here?”

“Not a glimpse,” Alex said.

Eventually the conversation led to the events of the past few days. Nate was as baffled as Alex and Jessica by the purpose of the bogus call from the emergency room. This was the first time Jessica thought to ask Alex if he’d heard back from the Campton police—was the school-bus accident really an accident?

“Dylan drove over there and talked to them face-to-face,” Alex said. “He came away with the impression there isn’t a doubt in the world it was an accident. Children have been targeted before by these kinds of domestic militia terrorist groups, but not like this. Plus the bus was overdue for maintenance and one anonymous source told him the front tire was almost bald. They checked out the driver, too. She’s the mother of six and she’s been driving for the school district for years.”

“But what about the holiday program the nurse mentioned?”

“It was an end-of-the-school-year picnic event at a park.”

“You have to ask yourself,” Nate said, sitting back in his chair and stretching his long legs, “if the only thing accomplished was frightening Jessica—was that the purpose?”

“But why me?” Jessica murmured. “I’m no threat.”

“Maybe you’re not a threat, but you
are
the most important person in the world to a man who is,” Nate said, looking right at Alex and then back at Jessica. “Your flowers, your husband—your peace of mind. It’s certainly affecting how you feel and hence, how Alex feels.”

Alex took Jessica’s hand in his and squeezed it.

“One more thing that’s been bothering me,” Nate said, sitting forward and resting his weight on his forearms. “Whenever you describe the plane crash, you get real fuzzy on details.”

“I’ve noticed that, too,” Jessica said. “I thought it might be because he hit his head in the crash.”

“He had the wherewithal to exit the plane and save his life,” Nate said. “And just because he suffered a few cuts doesn’t mean he hit his head.”

“I don’t think I did,” Alex said, unconsciously, it seemed, touching the scars on his face.

“It’s the time before the crash that you seem vague about,” Nate added. “Why is that?”

Alex paused to think for a moment. “I have no idea. I remember being in a funk. It must be that.”

“A funk?”

“Yeah, you know.”

Jessica looked Nate in the eye. “He means we’d had a big old, hairy argument before he left. We were both in a funk.”

They all kind of looked at each other uneasily, and then Nate chuckled. “That occasionally happens to everyone,” he said. “Come on, Alex, why don’t you and I clean up.”

While the guys performed domestic chores, Jessica led Sarah out into the yard. She turned on the floodlights so they could look around.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” Sarah said diplomatically.

And in a way, she was right. The yard crew had removed the shattered stems and ruined blossoms, pruning things back, remulching the paths and toting away debris until now the yard looked wooded and serene in its way. But it wasn’t the riot of color it had been and Jessica could barely stand to look at it.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Sarah added.

“Thank you. He was a nice kid.” Jessica waited a second and added, “It appears Nate recovered from the bullet wound okay. Is he 100 percent now?”

“Yes. The doctors were amazed how quickly he healed.” She hugged herself and shivered. “Jess, I don’t mind telling you. I thought he was going to die.”

“It must have been terrible,” Jessica said.

Sarah nodded. “That’s really why I came. I couldn’t bear to have him involved in this situation without me. My coming means we have to leave late tomorrow afternoon because I have a big exam the next day, but it was worth it.”

“I totally understand,” Jessica said. She liked Sarah, and that was an unexpected treat, too. Nate’s last girlfriend had been something of a prima donna with a grating laugh and though Jessica had tried to be friendly, they just hadn’t clicked. “Are you planning on having children eventually?” she asked, then shook her head. “Never mind. That’s none of my business. I guess I have babies on the brain.”

“I don’t mind,” Sarah said, smiling deeply. “I can’t think of anything we want more than a family. My own youth was dominated by an addictive mother and a father I could never seem to get close to. Children will be my chance to experience childhood again, this time through a better lens. I want to finish school first, though, and even though it seems incredible to me, Nate and I have only been together three months. We’re still finding things out about each other.” A frown furrowed her smooth brow for a moment, and then she added, “The only thing that blackens the horizon is this lingering threat. And to think that Alex might still be in danger—it’s horrible.”

“Yes, it is,” Jessica whispered.

“Do you think the man who worked on your garden was killed by these people? Was he one of them?”

“No,” Jessica said profoundly. “Of course he wasn’t. We told you about him. He was a simple guy who seemed to always try to do his best. When he found out I wanted the flowers to put on my grandfather’s grave he worked even harder.”

Sarah nodded thoughtfully. Then she said, “You must be right about him. There’s certainly nothing simple about this situation, is there?”

“There sure isn’t,” Jessica agreed.

“Maybe tomorrow we’ll find some answers,” Sarah added.

Jessica nodded but she thought it far more likely they would simply find more questions.

Chapter Nine

They were up before dawn the next day because John Miter’s place was twenty miles out of town. It was a quiet, somber drive fueled by nerves, coffee and the inevitable Vita-Drink.

As Alex yawned into his hand, it brought back memories of the day he’d flown off into the blue and not come home for a while. He’d been yawning that day, too. But today the yawns were just yawns. There was no accompanying thirst and lethargy, no mental sluggishness.

If there had been, he would have grounded himself. One crash into that lake was enough for a lifetime.

They took off into a beautiful sunrise and it felt great to soar above the clouds. This was something he hadn’t been sure he’d ever do again, but now that he was flying, he knew he wouldn’t let fear stop him. He twisted the lid off one of his enhanced waters and encouraged everyone else to join him. “Here’s to life,” he said, and they clapped the plastic bottles together.

Nate acted as navigator as they flew through the clear blue skies, keeping track of their route on the charts Alex had brought along. Thanks to the FAA, he knew exactly where “his” lake was and sure enough, ninety minutes later, he caught the first glimpse of the river he’d followed to the Bookers’ house. From up here, it looked like an easy walk, the gullies and crevices mitigated by height. The truth had been that a two-day walk turned into several times more than that. He’d had to avoid all sorts of hazards including melting snow and the small avalanches that could still be deadly.

And then he caught sight of the lake, a blue gem set in dark green trees, a diamond brooch on an emerald gown. Patches of snow glistened on the peaks of neighboring mountains.

“Is that your lake?” Jessica asked, leaning forward.

He nodded. Then he glanced back at her over his shoulder. “It looked a lot bigger last February.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

They circled until Nate pointed. “I see the Cessna, over there, not far from the shore.”

He was right. The vague but unmistakable shape of the plane was visible beneath the pristine lake water. It had sunk within fifty yards of the shoreline. To Alex, dragging himself across it with a busted leg and during a snowstorm, it had seemed more like fifty miles. And beyond it on the shore, barely visible, he glimpsed the arrow made of rocks that pointed inland toward his camp.

As he’d lugged those rocks into place a few weeks before, he’d imagined it would appear like a beacon to anyone flying over, but in truth, you had to know to look for it—his rocks tended to blend in with all the others. He wished now he’d scattered them before he left. Fact was he’d completely forgotten about them.

He landed into the wind, then steered the plane toward the downed Cessna. Peering into the water and seeing the ghostly white wingspan of his plane down below felt eerily disquieting. This lake, except for some good luck, could easily have been his grave, the Cessna, his tombstone.

And now he was back to a place he’d once planned never to see again.

Nate inflated the dinghy with a CO
2
canister as Alex anchored the plane between the wreck and the shore. When the boat was inflated, Alex ferried Sarah and Jessica to the beach. “I’ll go get Nate and our equipment next,” he told Jessica, fighting off the urge to ask her not to wander far, to stay where he could see her. Had coming back here spooked him more than he thought it would? Yeah, he decided. Literally, he’d been gone for only five days. But in his head, this place had happened a lifetime ago.

Take that big pine tree right over there. Last winter there had been five feet of snow around it. That was the place he dug out a trench for himself and spent a few miserable nights just fighting to stay alive. A wave of nausea passed through him now, remembering the pain and even more, the hopelessness.

“Where was your camp?” Jessica asked, and he tore his gaze away from the tree.

He waved in a vague direction. “Over there.”

“I’d like to see where you lived.”

“Where I
live
is in a nice little house with a drop-dead gorgeous woman who is going to have my baby. That’s where I live now and that’s all that matters.”

“Don’t be obstinate,” she said.

He smiled but he really didn’t want to be having this conversation. However, if he didn’t compromise, she’d come unglued, so he touched her arm. “If there’s time after our dive, I’ll give you a personal tour, okay? Or maybe we could just fly over it.”

She nodded, her gaze hard to read.

“I’ll go get Nate so we can put on our gear.”

He faced the floatplane as he rowed the dinghy because he didn’t want to see the disappointment on her face. He understood that she wanted to know exactly where and how he’d lived, so why couldn’t she understand that it was painful for him? Walking along that trail back to his camp would feel like hiking back to despair. He didn’t need to revisit it; he was happy to let it go.

Within an hour, Nate and Alex had changed into wet suits and donned scuba tanks. Pulling the dinghy behind them to tote their gear, they said enthusiastic goodbyes and paddled back out to the wreck. The bright orange buoy they’d attached made finding it from water level a cinch.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Nate said before he bit down on the mouthpiece that would feed air from his tank. With his mask pulled back on the top of his head, his expression was intense. Alex couldn’t think of anyone he wanted by his side more than this man.

“Anything to do with the engine and oil pressure. Tony told me to check to make sure the oil-tank plug is in place because of the way the pressure dropped so quickly. He doesn’t see how, but maybe it blew. He explained where it is. Hopefully the plane didn’t settle with that area in the mud, but the struts broke when I landed so we’ll just have to see.”

Nate grinned. “You mean when you crashed.”

Alex chuckled. “Yeah, well, anyway, thanks to the FAA wanting to make their own assessment, we won’t move anything, but we can photograph the hell out of it. Ready?”

In another minute they disappeared below the water, a trail of bubbles marking their spot.

* * *

“I’
LL
BE
BACK
in a few minutes,” Jessica said as soon as she saw Alex and Nate dive beneath the water.

Sarah got to her feet. “Where are you going?” she asked, her head tilted to one side.

Jessica paused, uncertain how to explain. There was no way to sugarcoat it, however, so she just told the truth. “I imagine you’ve gathered from things you’ve heard that Alex and I have...struggled. We’re just getting back to a place where we can work together, but he still resists. The fact is, just as you had to be here for Nate, I have to be here for Alex even if he doesn’t admit it and part of being here is understanding what he’s been through. He’s so reluctant to talk about it, so anxious to move on. I can’t go quite that fast.”

“You’re going to go look for his camp, aren’t you?” Sarah asked.

“Yes. If it were Nate, wouldn’t you?”

“In a heartbeat. Do you want company?”

Jessica shook her head. “No, if you don’t mind, I’d rather go alone.”

“I don’t mind,” Sarah said. “I’ll stay here and make sure their bubbles keep rising to the surface. Do you know exactly where the camp is?”

“He told me the trail is marked by a forked tree on the lake end. I’ve been looking around and it seems to me that little fir tree right over there has two crowns. But even if it didn’t, there’s an arrow of rocks on the beach. Alex must have made that this spring when the snow melted, hoping a plane would see it.” She stopped talking abruptly as a lump swelled in her throat. He must have felt so alone.

“Just be careful, okay? If you get eaten by a bear, Alex will kill me,” Sarah said as Jessica took off toward the trailhead.

As soon as Jessica passed behind the forked tree, the world seemed to disappear. The plants on the path had worn away and the dirt was rutted. It had probably been an animal trail long before Alex started using it.

As the trees and bushes on either side of it closed in, she imagined Alex stumbling, limping down this path. What would she have done? Looked for a clearing of some kind, but not too far from the lake. The lake meant food and possible rescue.

The clearing was suddenly upon her as she stepped around a bush covered with thorns into a space about ten feet by twelve. A campfire ring sat under an outcropping of rocks, and across from it, branches had been woven together to create a shelter against the edge of a cliff. The trails between the two spaces paused at a trio of large boulders, the camp version, she supposed, of a dining room.

And that was about it.

Oh, there were a few scraps around like fish bones and charred wood stakes he must have used to smoke the fish he carried out with him, even a stack of unburned branches waiting to cook another meal. Half of a small rectangular blue-and-white metal box sat on one rock but it was currently empty. Judging from the rust, she wondered if he’d used it to transport water.

What was lacking were all the things she’d spent her camping experiences taking for granted. The sleeping bags, the tents, the pots and pans, and water jugs. There were no paper products like newspapers or magazines, no dishes of any sort except for a few pieces of bark stacked on one of the rocks that looked as though they may have been used as plates.

She stood there in the utter silence of the day, stunned by the paucity of supplies and stimuli. She sat down on one of the rocks, on a spot that seemed to have a natural place for a human haunch, and felt certain Alex had perched here a hundred times while he cooked his fish and dreamed of coming home.

Had she secretly wondered if he’d really been up in the mountains for three months? Had his reluctance to talk about the details seemed so over-the-top that she’d imagined he might have made some of this up? And wasn’t it odd that glimpsing his plane under the lake and that sad little arrow on the beach wasn’t half a gut-wrenching reality check as this camp and its almost exclusive lack of civilization?

After a few minutes, she decided to investigate the other structure that lay kitty-corner to the fire. What she found was a small, cozy sleeping area. The floor was covered with branches topped with a layer of boughs, she supposed for softness. A pair of worn handcrafted crutches constructed from tree limbs and tied with plant fiber leaned against the back wall. Alex had told her he walked out with his backpack, clothes, some food and little else, so there wasn’t much there besides what nature could provide. She saw the other half of what she now recognized was the blue-and-white metal medical box the emergency supplies had come in. This half held a handful of what appeared to be cold charcoal pieces from the fire. Hanging from an exposed root above, she found a small array of sticks hanging from a piece of salvaged metal. Additional sticks and cones were tied with plant fiber and dangled from the main structure. She blew on it and the pieces bumped together and made a pleasant sound. He’d made himself a wind chime of sorts.

Unable to resist the temptation to try to understand better, she crawled inside and lay down atop the boughs. It would never take the place of a good mattress, but it wasn’t bad. He must have used his coat and additional foliage for more warmth or maybe he’d slept closer to the fire at first when the weather was colder. She laid her head back and saw that he’d left a small opening near the top she could easily picture being filled with stars once night came and she remembered that first night he was home and the way he’d paced endlessly until finally ending up outside, under the stars.

Taking a deep breath she laid her head down and looked up at the ceiling. For the first time, she saw that he’d made marks along one wall with the charcoal, little lines in groups of five no doubt counting off the nights he’d spent in this camp. But it’s what she saw next that literally took her breath.

Up above the lines, easily visible from a reclining position, was a drawing. It would never hang in the Louvre, but it brought tears to her eyes as she recognized her own face smiling down at her.

* * *

A
LEX
HAD
SPENT
weeks watching the snow melt and he knew that a hundred little streams ran into and fed this lake before escaping out the other side into a river that eventually wound its way to the sea. He’d followed that river to safety, back to Jessica and his life.

But now the task at hand was to check out his poor, wounded plane and he was relieved that although the water was icy cold, it was also clear. Visibility was excellent.

The plane had turned a little as it sank, coming to land on the rocky bottom with the fuselage propped on one of several big boulders. This was a stroke of luck as it meant the engine compartment would be accessible. Beside him, Nate pointed at the area behind and beneath the broken propeller and they kicked their way down.

Looking at his wonderful plane as he descended brought back a decade of bittersweet memories. He’d inherited the plane from his uncle and would probably never be able to buy another. It was insured, but for nothing like replacement cost. That did remind him to snap a few pictures as they drew closer, including the identification or N-numbers near the tail.

They soon discovered the engine-compartment door had been damaged when the struts tore free and the plane skidded on its belly. Nate joined Alex in pulling on the handle, but in the end, they used a multitool to pry the door open and pull it up and back on its hinges. It kind of reminded him of opening a can of sardines.

Things were darker inside the compartment. Nate shone his light where Alex pointed. Tony Machi had told him exactly where the oil-tank plug was located and he levered himself down and around to be able to see if it was still there.

At first he thought it was missing. He snapped a few photos, sure something didn’t look right, unsure what it was. He signaled to Nate to move the light to a different angle, and with different illumination, he finally figured out what he was looking at.

The plug was still screwed in place but there was a hole in it. It didn’t make any sense. The engine oil would have easily leaked away within minutes through a hole that size and yet he’d been in the air long enough to get all the way to this lake before the situation became catastrophic.