Vanished (22 page)

22

77 HOURS MISSING

Mason floored his SUV up the twisting highway. Ava had spent the majority of the ride on her cell, talking to both Sanford and ASAC Duncan. Sanford was on his way to the same location with a dozen agents. He’d contacted the Forest Service and Search and Rescue. Both were going to have teams at the site. Mason had watched the temperature gauge on his dashboard slowly drop as they’d left the city limits. It had been hovering at forty degrees for the last few minutes.

“Not much farther,” Ava commented, studying a map on her phone. She’d changed into hiking boots, jeans, and a heavy jacket. Mason had swapped out his cowboy boots for the hiking boots he always kept in the back of his vehicle. Ava had grabbed a duffle from her trunk. He figured it held the same basics as the one he kept in his vehicle: extra clothing, blanket, ammo, water, protein bars. Whatever a cop thought they might need for a sudden twenty-four-hour mission with no time to stock up. He’d offered to drive, suspecting Ava had phone calls to make, and he’d been right.

They’d soon left the city behind. The highway followed the twisting path of the Sandy River up toward its source in the Cascades. Fir trees towered on both sides of the road, sometimes leaving breaks that gave breathless views down a steep slope to the riverbed. As they rose in elevation, the temperature went lower. Mason hadn’t seen any snow along the road, but he expected it any minute.

Please let her be safe.

Was this a real call? Would it direct them to a little girl or a corpse?

“Take the next right,” Ava directed.

Mason saw a small clearing on the right side of the road a hundred yards ahead. He slowed and pulled into the opening of a Forest Service road. The metal gate was open. Had the Forest Service opened it or had their caller? He had a hunch those roads were all closed this time of year. The Forest Service typically closed the dirt roads during the winter to keep drivers from getting stranded.

He spotted fresh tracks in the thick mud at the gate. He knew from Ava’s last call that Sanford had just arrived with his men and they were getting ready to trek into the woods.

“Your car wouldn’t have handled this,” Mason stated as he shifted into four-wheel drive to move through the mud. Some of the ruts looked a foot deep.

“Definitely not,” Ava said. “Thank you for driving.” Stress showed in her tight jaw.

He understood her tension. What would they find down this road?

They bounced through the ruts, and Ava grabbed her door to stay still in her seat. A half mile in, they spotted a group of other trucks. The familiar odd green of the Forest Service vehicles stood out from the drab colors of the FBI’s SUVs. People stood in small groups, and Mason let out a breath. It appeared no one had set out yet. He parked behind the closest vehicle and grabbed his personal weapon out of the console. Ava watched him check the weapon but said nothing. He was licensed to carry his own concealed weapon. His boss couldn’t take that away from him. He slid the nine millimeter into his shoulder holster under his coat.

They strode to the group, and Mason nodded at the faces he knew from the FBI. A short guy seemed to be giving commands. Not FBI. Sanford introduced Mason and Ava to the group. The short guy was Jim Wolf from the Madison County Search and Rescue, and he was also a deputy in their sheriff’s department. He sized up Mason and Ava in a single glance, seemed to find them acceptable, and continued his explanation of what was about to happen.

Former military.

It showed in Wolf’s stance and delivery.

“The GPS coordinates indicate a location to our south,” said Wolf. “We’re going to divide up into three groups of six, and one of my guys will lead each group. We’ll all be headed in the same direction. It’s downhill and steep. Watch your step. Use your ropes and your brains before doing anything that doesn’t seem right. Hopefully, we won’t have to go very far.”

Mason raised a hand, and Wolf nodded at him. “Was the Forest Service gate locked?”

An older man in a Forest Service coat spoke up. “Someone cut the chain. It was open when we got here, and there were fresh tracks in the mud.”

Mason could feel Ava’s excitement at his statement. Someone had come through recently. “What made you stop right here?”

“Tracks showed a vehicle turned around here,” answered Wolf. “It makes sense for the coordinates that were given. Any other questions?” He scanned the group, and several people shook their heads. “Let’s go.”

Mason and Ava were assigned to the same group as Sanford. Their leader, Brynn, was a woman with blond hair and sparkling brown eyes. She set a steady pace in the same direction as Wolf’s group, but fifty feet to their left. A third group was to the far right of Wolf, making a wide path through the woods. Shouts of “Henley!” and shrill whistles went off every sixty seconds.

Mason watched where he put his feet. The steep slope was packed dirt with scattered ferns and fir debris from the tall trees overhead. “Were there any tracks leading into the woods?” he asked Brynn.

She shook her head. “That was the first thing we looked for. The tire tracks were apparent, but we couldn’t see that someone had actually gotten out of a vehicle.”

“Shit,” Ava muttered.

Brynn smiled Ava’s way. “As you saw, there was a lot of rock, too. Someone could have moved all the way down to the river without leaving a track.”

Mason heard the quiet roar of the river. He couldn’t see it, but he knew they’d eventually meet it at the bottom of the slope. He continued to pick his way down the hill, frustrated that he couldn’t survey and scan his surroundings unless he stopped moving. He risked a bad fall if he looked up from his foot placement. He reached out a hand and balanced against a tree, walking carefully through the brush at its roots.

“Henley!”

After each call, searchers paused briefly and listened. As they drew closer to the river, it was harder to hear. It took thirty minutes to move down the slope to the water’s edge, where he swore the temperature had dropped another five degrees.

The three groups convened and looked to Jim Wolf for instructions. The man consulted his GPS and scanned the area. “Okay, we are right on top of where we’re supposed to be. Half of us will go upriver and half down. Report in twenty minutes,” he told his leaders.

Mason and Ava moved downstream with Brynn and several men. “What if she’s on the other side of the water?” Ava asked.

Brynn paused and looked over the river. The water was fast, pounding over huge boulders as it worked its way down and out of the mountain range. The far bank was twenty yards away, but with no bridge, it might as well have been a mile.

“Let’s pray she’s not,” Brynn said. “We’d have to bring in a chopper to access the other side.” The woman studied the rushing water with an apprehensive look and shuddered. Mason didn’t blame her. The water was deadly to anyone who considered crossing. One of the Forest Service workers blew his whistle, and they all paused to listen. Then moved on.

A few minutes later Brynn halted, looking around. “Do you hear a dog?” she asked.

Mason listened hard and shook his head. He glanced at the rest of their group, who did the same thing. Brynn continued to listen. “I didn’t bring my dog. Usually she’s with me on searches, and I swear I heard her for a second.” She gave a laugh. “I’m hearing things.”

Thirty seconds later, Mason heard a bark. Judging by the heads jerking up around him, he wasn’t the only one. “I heard it!” said one of the agents. Brynn nodded and scanned the area.

“Here, boy,” she called and gave an impressive whistle with two fingers.

More barks.

“It’s up the slope,” said Ava. “Not near the river.”

Brynn changed direction, taking them back up the slope. The barking grew louder and more insistent. Brynn gave a few more whistles, which seemed to set off a flurry of barks each time.

Huffing from the uphill climb, the group moved into a clearing in time to see a dog dash away. The dog stopped, looked back at them, and ran off again.

Mason blinked.
That looked like . . . It couldn’t be.

The group followed the dog, who dashed ahead again, then stopped to look back and check their progress. A black dog and a white chest. Mason was too far away, but damned if that didn’t look like his missing dog.

Jake knocked on McKenzie’s door, excitement making him almost dance. Finally. Some time alone with his girl. He’d texted her that he was on his way, but he couldn’t stay for long. He’d told his mom he was going to take a nap and to wake him if she heard anything about Henley. She and Lilian were hard at work in the kitchen, and Lucas had vanished into his home office and closed the door. Jake had walked right out the back door without anyone noticing.

He’d dressed for jogging so no one would question the sight of a teen running in jeans through the neighborhood. He had one fear—that his mom would knock on his door and find him missing. He’d have to answer for that if it happened. At least he’d left a note on his bed saying where he’d gone, so she wouldn’t panic that he’d been grabbed like Henley. She’d be pissed but not frightened. And he didn’t plan to stay for very long. He hoped he’d be back before anyone noticed.

Jake knocked on the door again and rang the doorbell. He knew she was home; he’d received a text before he’d left the house verifying that her parents were gone for a few hours. He waited a few seconds then tried the door handle. Unlocked. He pushed open the door a few inches. “McKenzie?” he yelled through the space.

“Come in, Jake,” she yelled from far back in the house. “In the kitchen.”

Relief swept through him, and he confidently pushed the door open the rest of the way. He stepped into the entryway and headed toward the kitchen. He stepped into the cheery room—

Jake froze.

“Hello Jake,” said a man to his right.

Jake’s hands turned to ice and his heart skipped several beats. The silver-haired man had McKenzie tied to a kitchen chair in front of him and was holding a knife at her neck. McKenzie had a gag in her mouth, and her eyes pleaded with him as her chest heaved up and down. The man held McKenzie’s cell phone in his other hand.

“I have a deal to offer you, Jake,” the man said pleasantly. “You do what I say, and I won’t slice your girlfriend’s neck open. How’s that sound?”

Jake stared at the man, unable to speak. The man looked like anyone’s grandfather.

“Are you wondering if I’d really kill her?” The man arched a brow at him. “Do you want to try me and see? Maybe you should consider what I did to your little sister.”

Jake clenched his hands into fists.

Ava pushed through the brush, trying to keep up with Brynn’s long stride. The dog galloped ahead of them, constantly stopping and then starting, trying to get them to follow. She’d heard Mason gasp as he’d gotten a good look at the dog. They’d all been shocked to see the domestic animal in the woods. Especially a dog who’d tried so hard to get their attention.

But what was it leading them to?

Please let Henley be alive!

Surely the dog was taking them to the little girl and not to some friendly campers.

“Over there!” Brynn shouted and broke into a jog. Ava could see the little girl at the base of a fir tree. A dark hat covered her bright hair. She didn’t get up or move as they approached.

Please.

The rest of the group started to run toward the girl. Brynn knelt by her, lifted her head, and felt for a pulse. “She’s alive!” The child was tied to the tree with several lengths of rope around her chest. Brynn pulled a knife out of her pocket and thrust it at an agent. “Cut the ropes,” she ordered. He fell to his knees and started sawing at the rope. Two others produced knives and did the same.

“Henley,” Mason said over Ava’s shoulder as she kneeled beside Brynn. “Can you hear me, honey?” The girl moved her head and made a feeble attempt to open her eyes.

“She’s freezing,” Brynn stated. She pulled off her daypack and started rummaging through it. She pulled out several small hand warmers and a microthin blanket. “Let’s get some warm liquids in her.” The ropes broke away from the tree, and the girl fell forward into Ava’s arms. Brynn reached under the oversized brown jacket the girl was wearing and tucked the hand warmers into her armpits. Henley’s eyelashes fluttered as she tried to open her eyes.