I had been home a few days when Strict called.
“Cassidy? How soon can you be at Creekside campground?”
Creekside? I knew that trail inside out.
“An hour, maybe two. I just need to call Rusty and grab my pack.”
“I’ll have everything you need when you get there.”
“You seem unusually rushed. What’s up?”
“I’ll explain when you get here.”
“I need details as you go,” Strict said. “Not the nitty gritty details from track to track. When Stella stops I need to know why. I need to know what happened.”
Stella was an eleven year old girl with epilepsy. She could control her seizures if she took her medication but she had to take the medication on a strict schedule. The seizures themselves were not dangerous to her at first but the longer she had been without her medication the worse they became. Stella’s mother sat still as she listened to Strict tell me about what I was looking for.
“The seizures won’t harm her but falls will.”
“How long do the seizures last when she has them?” I asked.
“They start out small, maybe five minutes but as they get worse they can go on for an hour or more. We’re worried about falls. We’re worried about her having a seizure near the creek. We want this kid found before she can hurt herself.”
“How long has been gone?”
“Overnight.”
“And how long since her medication quit helping.”
“We don’t know for sure, maybe twelve hours. Epilepsy is not a predictable disease. She medicates on a worst case basis. We can’t predict how her body is going to react without the medication under these circumstances. The doctor’s worst case scenario didn’t include being lost in the woods overnight.”
I could see why we were in a hurry now.
Stella’s mom added, “When she comes out of a seizure she will be confused. Once she stops and thinks she will know what happened but while she remains confused she may do irrational things. She will walk quickly and nervously. She might run in a direction that makes no sense. I think this is how she became lost. She had a seizure and acted before she thought about what she was doing.”
“When Stella stops I want you to tell me what you think happened. We will be able to predict a little bit what you can expect.”
Landon and I both nodded. “Got it.”
Strict showed me a picture of Stella and handed to me a pair of her shoes. There were very distinct wear marks on the soles and even on the sides of her shoes. The shoes she wore when she got lost were very different so I couldn’t count on the wear marks being exactly the same, but seeing the shoes she left behind helped me form a picture of her hiking style in my brain that would follow me for the entire search.
“Why did you wait overnight to call if Stella needed medication?” I asked.
“We were out looking. We thought she couldn’t have gotten far. She isn’t athletic. She hadn’t been up in the mountains before so she just wanted to look around.”
“What does she have with her? Any food? Any water?”
“No, nothing. She was just going for a walk. We thought she would turn around when she got hungry or thirsty.”
“What was she wearing? Is she prepared for the heat or the cold?”
“Jeans, a t-shirt and tennis shoes. She didn’t need a jacket.”
Thez joined the group as a precaution. Landon brought him up to speed as we walked.
There were tracks all over the forest near the campground. At first it was difficult to distinguish Stella’s tracks from the others. Tracks crisscrossed Stella’s trail. If her family had known anything at all about tracking they would have stopped when they found her tracks and followed them but they didn’t. They just wandered the woods calling out to her. I could tell which tracks were Stella’s because they were the only ones that fit the profile. And they were on the bottom. It was tedious following partially buried tracks, but this was the kind of challenge that made this my job. Following tracks is simple, but the intricacies of the art required a trained eye.
I slowly pieced together Stella’s trail while Landon and Thez patiently followed. She had explored the campground thoroughly and it took me a while to work my way out of view of base camp. Eventually though, Stella followed the creek out of the campground. When she climbed up to the trail the hiking was easier. Other hikers had obscured her tracks here too but I could watch for places where people had left the trail and decide if it was Stella’s trail. Most of the tracks I found off the trail were left by kids wanting to hike faster than their parents. The kids would rush ahead and then step to the side of the trail to wait for their parents or they would leave the trail for a moment to investigate something while their parents caught up. The small footprints always rejoined the big ones. All except Stella’s. I was grateful for her time on the trail. It allowed me to walk at an almost normal speed.
When she did leave the trail it was at a spot where many people detoured. There was a small swimming hole in the creek below and the laughter of swimming tourists echoed off the canyon walls. Stella followed a short trail down, visited with the people at the swimming hole, then followed the creek, crossing back and forth a few times by hopping rock to rock over the narrow stream.
There is just something about a creek that draws people. It isn’t the source of drinking water. It is just the pleasantness of a creek. They are bordered by green, something usually lacking in these desert mountains. They are frequented by animals. The trees have water so they grow tall and shady. The last time Stella crossed the little stream she forgot which side of the creek the trail was on. She walked through the woods as if looking for the trail. She seemed to remember that she could see the creek from the trail so she returned to the creek, but at this point the creek and the trail had turned and were no longer close enough to be seen. Round and around she looked, but she looked on the wrong side of the creek. At one point she stopped and soaked her feet in the cold water. Before she left, she drank from the creek, the toes of her shoes pressing good solid tracks into the creek bank. At this point in her exploring she was just a normal eleven-year-old girl, a bit lost in the woods, unafraid, still thinking. I was glad to see that. If she had remembered that the creek flowed right through the campground she could have just followed it back but she seemed focused on finding the trail. When she was rested she walked directly away from the creek and into the woods beyond.
After Landon got the story of my last search and laughed at my little escapade with the scorpion, Thez took over and the two men talked as they followed me.
It was late in her day of hiking when hunger and thirst had taken their toll that Stella began having problems. Her tracks suddenly changed mood and direction. Her steps became irregular and roamed. The picture in my mind was of listlessness and confusion. When the tracks suddenly stopped I felt a sudden stab of helplessness as I read the ground before me. I held out my arm to stop Landon and Thez from going around me and walking through the scene I was trying to decipher. I walked the perimeter of the area. I examined a nearby tree for signs of a fall against it. I looked at the small plants that had been crushed during the seizure.
I radioed Strict, like he asked me to.
“Go ahead, Cassidy.”
“Stella was lost well before she had her first seizure. I’m standing there now. Right before she fell her footsteps got sluggish and confused looking. There’s no sign of her hitting herself on rocks or trees. There’s plenty of crushed vegetation.”
“Can you give me an idea how long the seizures lasted?”
“Hold on, Landon can help with that. He’s dealt with seizures before.”
“Ten four.”
Landon joined me and I pointed out what I saw.
“It’s a fairly large area. Do you think all this was done during one seizure?”
“It’s hard to tell,” he answered. “Show me where she fell.”
I showed him the spot.
“And there’s no footprints until she leaves the scene. Can you tell what kind of motion produced what we’re seeing? Was it side to side motion or top down motion.”
I examined the plants. None of them looked like they had been crushed from above. They had all been pushed over from the side. Some of them had been ground into the soil from repeated quick movements. In several spots I could see where the seams of Stella’s jeans had pressed into the ground. I explained to Landon what I saw. I could read the motions to him but I didn’t know anything about seizures. He listened carefully before reaching for the radio.
“Strict, I think this was a fairly minor episode,” Landon told him. “I don’t know how long it lasted. I doubt it was more than half an hour. It’s possible that it was two short seizures. Does she follow some kind of pattern when this happens?”
There was a short silence while Strict conferred with Stella’s mom.
“Yeah, it’s more likely to be two short episodes. Her mom says if she tries to do too much right after a seizure it can send her into another one.”
“Then I think that’s what we’re seeing here.”
As Landon talked I found the tracks leading away and began tracking once more. Stella’s tracks revealed an almost random, almost drunken pattern at first but she stopped and waited for her mind to clear. When she went on she was steadier on her feet, though her direction didn’t make sense. At this point in the search I was taking in facts. The ground was an information board and I was reading the posts. At first it was just memos. Steps steady. Direction south. Tread readable. But as I tracked the posts began getting wordier. I need to get home. I’m thirsty. Where am I? How do I find my way back? What will happen without my medication? And after the seizures came upon her they continuously increased, becoming more prolonged and violent. Her seizures were always preceded by irregular footprints. I examined the ground closely noting there was blood on the ground. I looked for where it had come from and found small, sharp rocks just under the soil. As a tracker I disliked rock. It hid and disguised footprints but these rocks were different. They bit and tore and I felt every scratch and scrape as I imagined Stella convulsing here, helpless. I had to sit down and gather my wits. Surely I could track as fast as she was traveling. With her frequent and prolonged stops I should be able to catch up.
As night fell we were disillusioned. Stella had a day’s head start on us, but after seeing the scope of her situation we fell into the mindset that we would come across her soon. I imagined a very tired and physically stressed young girl. Beaten by her situation. Scared. Hurt. I couldn’t just set up my tent and eat a warm meal and sleep the night through knowing she was out there scared and hungry.
“You have to stop,” Landon told me. “You know when you have to stop. You have to stop when you can’t read any more and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
He was beginning to know me too well.
I handed over the chocolate chip and walnut cookies. Landon was very specific about his cookie preferences. I didn’t even bother trying to divide them up and hand them out slowly. He knew, when they had thawed they were his. And he would share. I knew he would because he and Thez were both bachelors. Both ready for a cookie handout whenever one came along. I imagined all the woman cops out there cringing at the fact that I baked cookies for my search partners. But, hey, they liked me for it. I certainly had backup if I ever needed it. It was a small price to pay for a little life insurance and Landon had been there for me more than once. He’d tell me it wasn’t because of the cookies. And he’d wink at me while he said it. I figured I would owe him cookies for the rest of my life.
I cast around for a tent spot. This was a decent place to camp. I just wasn’t ready to stop. I stood in the little clearing willing the sun to reverse its course. I longed to track just a little farther. But I knew Landon was right. If I continued, I’d miss something and we might not run across another good camping spot. I had to stop while the conditions were right.
We were all a little bummed out, Landon and Thez because they knew what Stella was going through, and I because, well, I knew what she was going through from a different perspective. I had experienced what it was like to be alone in these mountains, wondering if I’d get home again. Stella needed protection, to be home, comfortable, safe and secure.
I set up my tent reluctantly, reluctantly because I thought it was unfair that I got a tent when Stella was out in the open. I didn’t need a tent. She did. I wished I could send it to her, make it appear all set up before her, sleeping bag and all. But I couldn’t do that. So I set it up so the guys would know I was camping in the comfort of a nice, safe tent. I cooked my dinner so they would know I was getting a nice, hot meal. While it was rehydrating in the bag I pulled out a flashlight and circled the camp, a flashlight shining a welcoming beacon that I hoped Stella could see. I walked around the camp twice and on the second pass I thought I heard a noise. I stopped and shined my flashlight towards the sound. I couldn’t see what it was but I could definitely hear it. My heart leaped. It was the sound of a young person running through the woods, cursing the darkness, stumbling, crying softly.
“Hey guys? Come here. Bring your lights.”
When they had found their flashlights we advanced in the direction the noise was coming from.
Stella stumbled into our flashlight beams, emotional, disheveled, hungry and hurt. She saw the guys’ uniforms and fell to the ground crying in relief. I swallowed a lump in my throat. This was why I hiked miles of rough terrain. This was why I followed track by track through sand and rock and over creeks. So I could give people hope where none existed. Landon and Thez went forward. It was going to be a long night for me, and a cold night because I’d give Stella my sleeping bag. But I was glad I could. I guided the party back to camp and started cooking a backpacker meal for Stella, too. Landon and Thez did a physical examination, gave Stella the medication she needed, and treated the numerous scrapes and cuts. Even with the medication she had seizures until her system evened out. Landon spent hours with her gently helping her through the convulsions. She woke embarrassed and confused.
“Do you see what you need to do when she convulses?” he asked me.
“Yeah, I hope I can do it in the dark, one handed.”
“If you have trouble just wake me.”
Stella’s seizures grew less intense as the night wore on. By morning I was mostly just dozing, sitting up. I was stiff, sore and cold. I sure didn’t want to get up and hike back to base camp.
We took our time in the morning. We cooked a big breakfast by backpacker standards and Stella ate more than all three of us combined.
It felt a little weird when Stella began talking. To me someone who faced health crises on a daily basis would be hardened and overly grown up. I was mistaken. Stella’s main concerns were the same as any eleven-year-old girl.
“My mom is going to kill me.”
“I doubt it. If she was going to kill you she wouldn’t have called the police to come find you.”
“She’s going to ground me for life.”
“She’ll be careful. You have to expect that out of a mom.”
“She’ll keep me at home and I’ll never have a boyfriend and I’ll never go to the prom.”
“You’re only eleven. There’s plenty of time to be a kid before you have to worry about a prom. And you’ll be surprised how understanding guys can be. Don’t let a simple thing like having seizures keep you from doing what you enjoy. If anything it should make you want to obey the doctor’s orders so you won’t have them. If you are careful to control your condition you should be able to do almost anything.”
“Nobody wants to go out on a date with a girl who would embarrass them.”
“Stella, you’re too young to date. You could outgrow the epilepsy. And I wouldn’t go out with a guy who based his whole relationship on whether or not you were going to have a seizure. If a guy is that conceited you don’t want to go out with him anyway.”
“How far is it back to the campground?”
“It’s just a few miles. Landon, can you find the way back?”
“Yeah. Why?” he answered.
“Because if you will lead I’d rather follow. I can read as I walk and I’ll see a seizure coming on.”
“I know the way back, but it’s going to feel really weird having you behind me. It’s like a married couple trying to switch sides of the bed. It just feels wrong.”
“He’s used to following me because I’m a tracker,” I explained to Stella. “I usually have to go first so I can see the tracks.”
With me behind Stella we were able to avoid any major convulsions. When her steps faltered I called a halt and we waited for clarity to return.
“Thez, you’re doing a lot better in the woods. Have you been out camping a lot?”
“No, this was just an unusually quiet search. I was so glad Strict called me. The short notice prevented Victor from coming, so I was next on the list. I had to get out of that office.”
“You used to do rescue work all the time. Why don’t you go back to it?”
“Technology. All the things I trained to do they don’t do any more.”
“How’d you get a name like Thez?” Stella asked.
“That’s another reason I don’t go back to rescue work. If I did that full time I couldn’t make the performances.”
“Thez is an actor,” I told her. “Thez is short for thespian. They’ve called him that since before I knew him.”
“Have you been on TV?” Stella asked Thez.
“I prefer the stage. I feel more connected to the audience.”
We talked as we walked and Landon led us down the mountain and to the trail. Due to frequent updates, Stella’s mom knew exactly what to expect so she didn’t smother the kid when we finally appeared down the trail. Her eyes reflected care and concern. She wrapped Stella in a hug and cried quietly. Strict gave me a shoulder hug. “Nice work,” he said.
There was a surprise waiting for me when I got home. There was a sleek white sports car parked in my driveway. I got out of my Jeep Wrangler and eyed it suspiciously. Rusty was still at work. I was dead tired. I’d been hiking and tracking and camping in the dry, dusty mountains. I was filthy and looking forward to getting cleaned up before Rusty came home. I couldn’t track my visitor on cement but maybe I could see hints of their passing on the grass. They obviously were not in the front yard so I walked around back. The grass of the yards was overgrown and needed cutting so it was easy to see that a person had walked through it recently. I followed the bent grasses to the side yard and to the gazebo and there sat Misty, in the gazebo, smug as can be, until she saw that it was me.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I live here,” I answered. “What are you doing here?”
“Visiting,” she replied with a hint of over confidence. “Rusty said he didn’t know when you’d be home.”
“That’s because he never knows when I’ll be home. I was on a search. Searches can take days.”
“You should stick closer to home. You never know what’s going to happen while you are gone.”
“Obviously.”
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“No.”
“How rude.”
“I never was very good in the tact department. I went to school, graduated, went to school in the Marines, too. The only place they ever taught me about tact was in police academy and then we were holding loaded guns while we tactfully arrested people. So I’m kind of lacking in tact right now. Besides, I believe in giving people the respect they deserve and so far you haven’t done anything to deserve mine. I’m going to go unpack, shower and rest up before I make dinner. Have a good day.”
The house was quiet for just a few seconds and then Shadow tackled me and went through his welcome home routine. Somehow he thought he could be petted while he attempted to engage me in a game of tag. I wasn’t up to a game of tag. I unpacked my pack throwing away the trash and putting my filthy clothes in the dirty clothes bin. I took a long, hot shower wishing Rusty was there. After I was done I slipped on shorts and a tank top and looked out the front window. Misty’s car was still there. I dried my hair, brushed it out and looked again. The car was still there. What was she up to? I went outside and she was still sitting in the gazebo. Shadow rushed up to greet her but she nearly climbed up onto the rail to get away from him.
“Get down you filthy animal! I told you, back! Get back! Cassidy call off this brute.”
“He’s not a brute. He’s a friend. He’s been my friend a long time. At least he can take a hint.”
“Well, hint at him to get back!”
“Shadow, come,” I said simply. Shadow came and stood in front of me. “Sit. Stay.”
Misty climbed down off the gazebo rail.
“How can you live with that dirty thing in your house?”
“He’s part of the family. I’ve had him longer than I’ve known Rusty. He’s trained. He’s obedient. He’s smarter than some people I know. I’ve only met one person more loyal to me than Shadow and that’s Rusty.”
“Really? Rusty? How do you know?”
“I just do. Rusty has stuck with me through thick and thin. He’s had women after him from the time he started working at the Joshua Hills station and he only let one of them work their way into his heart. She was killed in a car chase and he didn’t look at another woman until I came along. I haven’t done anything to attract him. He just chose me for some reason. And he’s stuck with me ever since. I don’t know why. I’m just glad he did.”
“How very interesting. And you are certain he’s that loyal to you?”
“Misty, I know what you’re up to and I’d appreciate it if you would leave.”
“I bet you would. I might leave, but you can’t get rid of me that easily. I know where to go.”
“Good, then go there,” I said and then realized what I’d told her to do.
“Thank you,” she said and did her runway walk, crisply tailored skirt swishing all the way to her car. When she got in she let a lot of leg show. She smiled as she closed the door and started up the engine. It purred. She waved as she drove away and I ran into the house to call Rusty. I felt like an idiot. An insecure idiot. But I couldn’t let Misty in on that little fact. It was one of her handiest tools. And when I talked to Rusty I felt like I sounded like an insecure wife.
“Hey!” I said brightly when he answered his cell phone, “I’m home.”
“That’s great. I missed you. Did you find your man?”
“The first day. We just found her late in the evening and there was no need for a pick up so we hiked out this morning.”
“You’re sounding good. I guess it went well?”
“Yeah, it went as well as it could.”
“That’s my girl.”
“We had company when I got home.” The line went eerily quiet. “I’m afraid I wasn’t very nice to her.”
“I think it’s the only way you’re going to get through.”
“Misty has selective hearing… And she might be on her way down there. She also has selective interpretations.”
“I think I’ll go stake out a house or question a witness or how about if I just come home?”
“It’s still early.”
“Long as I get the job done, right?”
“I’ve got a job you can do if you come home in time. It might take a while.”
I got two things out of that conversation: Rusty knew who my visitor had been and he was avoiding her. It was half bad news and half good news. It made me wonder why he was avoiding her but at least he was making the attempt. Many guys would love to be pursued by Misty Montague.
It was heartening to see Rusty pull up into the driveway beaming at me even before he got out of the Explorer. I had thought about changing clothes, dressing up a bit but I decided it would look like I was trying to compete with Misty. Nope, if I was going to win this little battle I had to be myself and myself was wearing shorts and a tank top. Since I’d just showered and expected to rest up and do a few chores around the house I hadn’t bothered with a bra. He bounded out of the truck and I met him halfway down the sidewalk. His eyes were smiling and his embrace was happy and warm. His brown sports coat wrapped around me in the hurry and the smell of him was inside. I basked in the warmth.
“Come here,” he said. I couldn’t get much closer but he lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist and he carried me into the house and sat down in our spot on the couch. “I didn’t get my minutes in before you left. I have some catching up to do.”
“Strict was in a hurry and I’m glad he was. The girl I was looking for was pretty beat up by the time we found her. Strict was right to hurry. I hate taking off on you like that, but I like the way you catch up on your minutes.”
His hands strayed underneath my tank top.
“How do you do it? You drive me crazy just by coming home. When I heard your voice my whole day turned around.”
Fingers glided up my leg. Although he could have, he never assumed I would make love to him. He might lure me into it, but he always stopped at inconvenient times to allow me to back out if I wanted to. Heck, I never wanted to. One look, a few touches and I was ready to drag him into the sack. So it was that I woke up in a dimly lit bedroom with a trail of clothes leading down the hall, the sheets and comforter a tangled mess and a wonderful contentment as I pulled all the warm closeness that I could out of him. I felt the comfort dragging me back down and let it take me, sleeping next to him.
An hour or so later he woke up and pulled me close. “Now look what you did, it’s too late to go to town and it’s too late to cook. I worked up an appetite and all we have is cold pizza, half a sub sandwich and a cheesecake.”
“I betcha if you give me a minute I can make the cold pizza into warm pizza,” I said.
“I betcha if I give you a minute you could make me forget about food.”
“That’s only a short term solution. Every time I make you forget about food you get hungrier.”
“We could smear the cheesecake all over each other and take care of both needs at once.”
We joked back and forth in wonderful familiarity and laughed at the trail of clothes leading from the den to the bedroom. We heated up pizza in the nude, then both sat and jumped back up because of the cold seats on the dining room chairs. We moved to the couch and ate pressed together. Conversation began as thoughts returned to matters at hand.
“Agnes is teasing us. She is getting way too confident. She moves from one area of the city to the other. She has to be staking these houses out and studying the flow of activity. She always seems to know just when to break in to be undetected. She has patience. I’ll give her that. She is subtle too. People don’t even realize they are missing things for weeks after she breaks in.”
“Is there any pattern to it? Is there any way to second guess what she might try next?”
“Only the fact that expensive jewelry is involved. But she doesn’t pawn the items. She either does it to keep the jewelry or she sells it far away from here where people don’t know her.”
“Well, that’s one way Agnes and I differ. I can’t imagine wearing expensive jewelry just to show it off.”
“You don’t need jewels. You are a jewel. I see you and all I can think is how beautiful you are and why did you choose to spend your forever with me?”
“I must be like those geodes that are all rough on the outside and you have to break them to see what they really hold.”
He didn’t like the comparison. He was too used to people trying to break me.
“Any idea what kind of car she drives?” I asked curious about this cat burglar he was looking for.
“No, we’ve been watching for someone casing out houses but anybody can sit in a car in a neighborhood. They might be waiting for a friend, a carpool. People wait in cars for any number of reasons and we don’t have a description of her car so it’s a rather vague thing to go on.”
The wheels in my head were turning. I still thought Hazel was the best bet, even if she didn’t know anybody like Agnes she would talk endlessly about the workings and gossip at the senior center. I’d at least have some ideas to go on. I made a mental note to go over to Hazel’s house the next day.