Fletch
The monogram isn’t the only thing that stands out on the piece of linen. A bloody smear is visible on the knot used to tie it to the branch.
Why is it there in the first place?
People leave markers either so someone else can track them, or so they can retrace their own steps. The woman has been missing for almost two weeks. The last time someone spoke to her or saw her was on August twenty-sixth, thirteen days ago. However, it looks like she may have spent at least one night at the campsite.
Two weeks, that’s a long time to be out here. She may be an experienced camper in her motorhome, but it’s a different ballgame when it’s just you and the elements. I have a feeling if we find her, it won’t be alive.
Glancing up, I just catch a glimpse of Nella before she disappears from sight. The woman has more guts than sense.
“Sully.”
The radio crackles to life.
“I’m here.”
“Tell Sheriff Ewing we’ve found the missing woman’s hanky. Tied to a pine branch about thirty feet from the base of the cliff. He’ll want to send his forensics guy down here. I’m going after Nella.”
“Will do. Also, I just flew the drone over the creek. Didn’t see anything but she may have gone for water. It’s not that far from where you are, about three-quarters of a mile northeast.”
That’s the general direction Nella took off in, so I quickly sign off and go after her.
She’s not hard to find, I can easily hear her blundering through the underbrush ahead of me. Unfortunately, she’s heading in the opposite direction of where Sully indicated the creek to be.
She doesn’t even hear me when I catch up to her and startles when I put a hand on her shoulder.
“Hold up.”
“I told you, I’m not waiting for a search party,” she snaps.
The temptation is strong to react to her sharp tone but I force myself to take a calming breath. I swear, this woman pushes every button.
“There’s a creek that way.” I point behind me. “She’d have needed water to survive.”
I can tell Nella is processing my words, her eyes drifting over my shoulder.
“A creek?”
“Yup.”
I turn and start moving in the direction Sully indicated, hearing Nella fall into step behind me. My eyes are peeled for signs of anyone coming through here recently. Any tracks; broken branches, trampled underbrush, anything that might look out of place, but nothing stands out.
I wish James were here with his sharp eye and keen nose. He’s the team’s proverbial bloodhound, but I’m afraid we’d have trouble getting the horses through this dense forest. They would have to come in along the creek to be able to access this valley.
Nella seems to keep up, but by the time the trees start thinning out as we get closer to the creek, her breathing sounds labored.
“You okay?” I ask her over my shoulder.
“Fine,” she pants, clearly struggling.
“We’re getting close,” I attempt to encourage her.
Unfortunately, the sun is already lower in the sky and pretty soon dusk will be setting in. We’re going to have to decide soon whether to camp out here or head back to the vehicles. I’m a little concerned the trek back will be too much for her. It’s one thing walking a couple of miles on level ground, but another altogether on this terrain. We’ll also need some sustenance at some point and other than a few carefully wrapped protein bars in my pack I’m not carrying any food, and I doubt she is.
The creek is surprisingly swollen, it must’ve rained up here recently. That’s the thing about living in the mountains, you can have fair weather in the valley and rain or snow up here, or vice versa. I know we haven’t had much more than an occasional shower at the ranch these past few weeks, it’s been more like an extended summer. Up here you can already feel a distinct chill in the air.
If there was any bank on the other side of the creek before, it’s gone now. The mountain peak rises straight up from the water. Unless Nella’s sister is a mountain goat, I seriously doubt she would’ve made her way up there. The more likely scenario—provided she’s still alive—is that she headed downstream along the creek. It’s what I would’ve done.
Any moderately experienced hiker knows that water follows the most direct route down the mountain.
From the corner of my eye, I notice Nella take a seat on a boulder and bend forward. I walk over and pull my flask of water from my pack.
“Have a drink,” I instruct her, handing over the bottle.
Her eyes catch mine for a second before she puts the water to her mouth and takes a swig. I try not to look at her lush lips wrapping around the top of the bottle, but it’s no use. When she’s pissed her lips form a tight prissy line, but her mouth is a thing of beauty when relaxed. Every naughty librarian fantasy I’ve ever dreamed up comes flooding back.
“What do you do for a living?” I blurt out against better judgment.
I should leave well enough alone, but I remember her mentioning a book club and am suddenly hoping she’s a dental hygienist or something equally unsexy.
She looks at me a little confused.
“I work at The College of the Rockies in Cranbrook. I’m a research librarian.”
Of course she fucking is.
Giving myself a mental kick in the ass, I take the bottle she holds out to me and take a deep drink, only to remember her lips were just there.
In an effort to get my mind back on track, I start walking away from her toward the water, my eyes on the ground. The creek bank is mostly stone. It’ll be tough getting any tracks, but if she came this way, she may have left something else behind.
Overhead I hear the high whine of Sully’s drone passing just moments before the radio crackles.
“Heads up; you’ve got bad weather incoming. Heavy downpour on the other side of the peak.”
My eyes dart up and I can just see the ridge of a dark, heavy cloud cover slide over the ridge.
Damn.
Nella
My clothes are plastered to my body by the time we reach the overhang Fletch pointed out. He barely got the warning out when the sky suddenly turned dark and rain started pouring.
I’m not usually afraid of a little rain, but this is ridiculous. It’s like someone emptied a bathtub on us and it’s still going.
“Stay here,” Fletch orders me before ducking out in the downpour again.
The overhang offers some protection thanks to the large boulder blocking one side of it, preventing the rain from coming in. It’s suddenly so dark, I have trouble seeing any farther than a few feet in front of me. All I see is water, either coming down or rushing by.
Fletch had guided me over a few large rocks to get across the creek to shelter. If he hadn’t grabbed hold of me I’d have ended up in the drink, not that it would’ve made much of a difference since I’m soaked anyway.
As I try to catch a glimpse of Fletch, who disappeared into the darkness, a bolt of lightning suddenly brightens the sky and the landscape around me. It’s followed closely by a heavy rumble I can feel in my bones, and I duck a little deeper under the overhang, pressing my back to the rock wall.
I hate thunderstorms. Have since a lightning strike hit our family home, causing the fire that killed my parents. Where before I thought storms were cozy, nowadays I get nervous and restless. This one is a doozy.
Squinting, I try and catch sight of Fletch, who is out there somewhere, every time the sky lights up. It’s impossible to hear anything over the deep booms of thunder and relentless pounding of the rain. Is it my imagination or is the creek water flowing faster? It’s definitely higher; reaching farther up the slab of rock I’m standing on.
What is probably just minutes feels like a really long time and panic is starting to set in. How much higher will it get? And where is Fletch?
Cold is starting to seep into my bones and I shove my hands in my pockets, encountering the familiar shape of my phone. I pull it out, worried it may have gotten soaked. Not that it would make much difference, I haven’t been able to get a signal up on the ridge, I’m pretty sure I won’t get one here. It’s still alive, but sure enough, I have no bars. But what I do have is the built-in flashlight. I turn it on and aim my phone at the now raging water washing up on the ledge and getting closer to my feet.
Shit.
Already backed up to the rock wall, I inch my way closer to the boulder, wedging myself in the corner.
“Fletch!” I yell, panicked, as I use my phone to light up the other side of the creek.
Where the hell did he go?
A blinding flash is followed by a loud crack sounding way too close for comfort. To my horror I watch as a large pine on the other side of the water starts falling in my direction, and I’m literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. I have nowhere to go.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I turn and press my face against the cold rock. The impact of the tree shakes the ground beneath my feet and when I peek over my shoulder, I’m confronted with a tangle of branches just inches from my face.
I’m trapped.
That water is going to come higher and I won’t be able to get away.
My chest feels tight and my heart is racing. Each breath is more labored as I have trouble pulling in enough air. Little dots of light swim in front of my eyes and blood roars in my ears.
“Nella!”
The sound of my name is little more than a whisper and I’m afraid I’ve imagined it. Relief should flood me, but instead panic grabs a firmer hold. My knees buckle underneath me and my back slides down the rock until my ass hits the ground.
I’m so stupid, I should’ve listened. There’s no one else to blame, I’m going to die here and there will be no one left to look for my sister.
Pippa.
The pain in my chest is overwhelming and I welcome the darkness pulling me in.
“…breathe with me. You’re okay. In and out. Come on, Nella.”
Cold, wet hands lift my face and I blink a few times. Fletch’s dark brown eyes are just inches away, scrutinizing me with concern. Water is dripping down the salt-and-pepper lock of hair plastered to his forehead.
“Talk to me.”
“I’m okay,” I rasp.
“Good,” Fletch says, grabbing my hands.
Then he gets to his feet, pulling me up with him. Over his shoulder, I catch sight of the tree which appears to have quite a few branches missing.
“How did you—”
“My KA-BAR knife. Always have it on me.” He turns and pulls me to the gap he’s created.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
I dig my heels in. The storm is still raging and as much as the close confines under this overhang scare me, going out in that weather terrifies me even more.
“I went out to find us a better shelter. The weather doesn’t look like it’ll let up any time soon. We need to get out of here.”
“What do you mean we need to get out of here? Where are we gonna go?”
“Higher ground. There are crevices and caves all over the mountain. One that looks large enough just above us.”
How on earth does he propose we get up there? Even if it wasn’t storming outside, trying to get up that nearly sheer wall of rock would be madness.
“I can’t.”
I shake my head and pull my hand from his.
“We have no choice. At this rate we’ll be knee-deep in water soon. Logs and debris are starting to come down in the creek and you could get knocked down and washed away.”
Well, I definitely don’t want to get swept off by the water, but I’m also not so sure if I’m ready to put my life in Fletch’s hands. He’s not waiting for an answer though, and takes my hand again to pull me to his front.
“Up you go,” he announces before grabbing me around the waist and lifting me up.
The last person to pick me up was my father when I was around twelve, which is why I’m so shocked, I can’t get out a single word of protest. I’m a solid one seventy-five and this man lifts me right off my feet like it’s nothing.
“Grab onto that fat branch above you,” he instructs me.
I look up, blinking against the sheet of rain, and notice the branch he’s talking about resting on the overhang above us.
“I’m right behind you,” he says when I hesitate. “You pull up and I’ll give you a shove. Grab it as high as you can and swing a leg over.”
I almost laugh out loud at his suggestion.
“It won’t hold.”
“Yes, it will. Trust me.”
“You can’t seriously think I can climb up there.”
I try to look behind me but only see part of the top of his head.
“Now, you’re fucking giving up? Give me a break. You’re the single-most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. Didn’t take you for a quitter.”
His tone is derisive and it burns because he’s right. I’m not a quitter, at least not when it comes to my sister. Apparently, I lack the same drive when my own ass is on the line.
Motivated by embarrassment, I reach high and grab hold of the thick branch. Then, painfully aware of my less-than-athletic abilities, I attempt to swing a leg over the branch. Fletch’s hands spread wide under my ass, shoving me higher. After a bit of a struggle, I manage to get upright, straddling the thick limb.
“Atta girl,” he mumbles below me. The compliment wraps around me like a warm cloak. “Now shimmy up to the ledge. I’m right here.”
I glance down at his upturned face, his dark eyes calm and reassuring. Oddly enough, I trust him. He won’t let me fall. Then I look up to find the next hold for my hands and ungracefully make my way up the branch. By the time I reach the ledge, determination has taken the place of the sheer panic I felt earlier.
When I turn and look down, Fletch is already halfway up the branch, making it look shamefully easy.