September 8, 2018
The next morning the park rangers in Estes were more than happy to let Spengler and Loren into the lot they still had roped off—this investigation was the most excitement they’d seen in some time. There’d been that bear sighting a few weeks back, and the rabid pack of raccoons that’d been attacking hikers, but otherwise it’d been a slow summer and the constant presence of Denver police was a welcome distraction. Like today. It was the cops, same two who’d been around already, but they also had a couple in the backseat with them, a man and woman both tan and ropy with muscle, who were carrying big bags of equipment with them as they headed up the trail to the cliff’s edge. It was a nice hike, the trail dotted with purple and yellow flowers, the last of the season before the cold would move in. Spengler saw an old newspaper in the undergrowth and tried to snag at it with a stick, complaining about people littering, but it was actually the corpse of a squirrel, and she only managed to burst the swollen skin so they could hear the munching sounds of the maggots on the flesh beneath. They all fell into silence during the last part of the hike, when the climb was steep and hard, and they were each occupied trying to keep their balance.
“Here we are,” Spengler said to Loren and the couple when they pushed out of the trees. The man went to the edge and peered over and down without any fear. The woman joined him. These two—Jenny and Mark—were rock climbers. Not professional, but close enough. Loren knew them somehow, mumbled a quick explanation to Spengler and then wouldn’t say more. “So if you were up here and wanting to get down fast, how would you do it?”
“I think the quickest way down is pretty obvious,” Mark said. He wasn’t trying to be funny. “But we’re not necessarily looking for the quickest way. Just a different way.”
Spengler and Loren stood back and let them work. They’d brought up a lot of equipment in their packs—ropes and pulleys and clips, plus all sorts of things Spengler didn’t have names for. She’d never realized there was so much gear involved in climbing, or all the terms she overheard Mark and Jenny use that she didn’t understand. Choss and jug and dihedral. They sounded like nonsense words to her ear, or a completely different language. Mark and Jenny stood together, looking over the side and discussing options in quiet, calm tones.
Spengler sat down in the shade of a pine tree. Her phone was sitting on her thigh, but out here it was completely useless. It was amazing to think that there were still places a person could go and be completely out of touch. These days you could get ahold of anyone, anytime; you were always plugged in. Connected. The small metal and plastic rectangle sitting on her leg was completely useless out here. She’d known they were heading into a dead zone before they’d arrived, of course, so she’d listened to her voice mails on the drive up.
The first was from the coroner’s office—it was definitely Riley Tipton that’d been dragged out of the river, based on dental comparisons. Her parents had been notified and were flying out from Tampa Beach to take her remains home. Her mostly packed suitcase was found on her bed, pools of dried blood and bone shards on the living room carpet. She’d been getting ready for her trip to South America but had never made it out of her own apartment alive. The last time anyone could confirm seeing Riley alive was Wednesday. Matt and Marie had arrived in Estes Park on Sunday. Marie disappeared on Tuesday. Long periods of time in which anything could’ve happened.
It was the last voice mail that Spengler replayed for Loren, who wanted to listen to it twice. It was from the techs who’d been going over every inch of Evans’s home and cars. They hadn’t found anything in the house, but the trunk of Marie’s car had recently been bleached and steam cleaned. Despite the effort, traces of blood still remained.
“That would explain the advanced decomposition in Tipton’s body,” Loren said. “Marie could’ve dumped her in the river before leaving for their trip.”
“Hey guys, it looks like someone tied a rope around this tree,” Jenny said, waving them over. Spengler stood and dusted off her backside. Jenny and Mark were standing beside a tall pine that’d rooted closer to the cliff edge than the others, like a cheater starting a race before the gun sounds. “See here, where it’s worn around the trunk? This was made recently. If I was going to lower myself, this would be as good a place as any to anchor. It’s sturdy, not too far from the edge. This is where we’ll anchor, too.”
Down near the trunk’s bottom, where the roots disappeared into the ground, was a spot where the bark had been rubbed away. An almost perfect half circle of smooth white wood. If someone had tied a rope around the trunk it might’ve made that mark, Spengler thought, rubbing her fingertips against the line. The friction would’ve worn the bark right off. And if you had a long enough rope, you could tie onto this tree and lower yourself right over the edge.
“But if Marie Evans had tied a rope around this tree and lowered herself over the edge, how would she have unattached the rope without her husband knowing?”
Jenny tapped the side of her nose.
“It’s the only way she would’ve been able to get over the side. This isn’t a great spot for climbing,” Mark said. He was stepping into a harness and cinching it down around his waist as he spoke. “The river’s right below the cliff edge and dry ground is under the platform. Unless she was able to hook into a spot under the cliff, it wouldn’t be worth it. She’d be lowering herself right into the water.”
“But could she have done it?” Spengler asked.
Mark winked.
“Anything’s possible with enough determination,” he said.
Jenny laughed and tugged on the harness she’d put on herself.
“Determination and zero-gravity climbing skills,” she snorted.
Mark looped a rope around the same tree and threaded it through his harness. His fingers moved confidently, then he helped Jenny do the same, so they were anchored securely to the same tree. “I’ve seen climbers do some crazy things. Having no fear will get a person just about anywhere.”
What had Marie been afraid of?
Mark lowered himself over the edge slowly, with Jenny keeping an eye on the ropes to make sure they were secure. They were both tied to the tree with the worn-away circle. They stayed silent and serious. Loren kept back, well away from what was happening, but Spengler strayed closer.
“Is it okay if I go out to the edge?” Spengler asked.
“Yeah, just don’t bump the ropes,” Jenny said. She kept her eyes on her partner.
Spengler walked as near to the edge as she dared, keeping well clear of the rope Mark was hanging from, then dropped to her knees. Went forward a bit more, then dropped again, to her belly, and army-crawled to the edge, like a snake. She peered over. It was a long way to the water below, and the wind seemed to blow harder out here. She couldn’t hear a thing. A wave of vertigo hit her as she looked down, and she started to scoot back to safety.
When she was far enough away she sat up and started to dust off her hands. There were hard grains of sand stuck to her palms, and a single nylon thread. It was bright blue, much like the rope Jenny had threaded through her harness. Spengler tweezed the piece up in her fingers and held it up to the sky, rolled it between her pointer finger and thumb. It was a small clipping, frayed on one end and cut straight across on the other, and it would’ve been easy to overlook. Carefully, she tucked the piece into her pocket.
A hawk glided lazily above their heads, wings outstretched as it circled, looking for prey below, and the river roared beneath them, hard enough that Spengler could feel the vibrations through the rock and all the way up into her legs. A woman falling into that water would be sucked right under and lost forever, maybe never found.
Unless she never fell into the water.
There was a shout from over the side of the cliff, and Jenny started to pull on Mark’s rope to help haul him back up while staying far enough back to keep safe. He unclipped something metal and shiny from his belt and tossed it at Loren, grinning. Loren held it up so Spengler could see. It was a strange piece of metal, two grooved half circles on one end that tapered out to a loop.
“It’s called a camming device,” Jenny said. “A climber can jam one of those into a crack in the rock and pull the trigger so those metal bits expand.”
“That’s exactly what she did,” Mark said, grinning. “And it wouldn’t have been as hard as we first thought. That cam was sticking out of the cliff underside and would’ve been an easy grab once she got herself lowered over the edge. The hardest part would’ve been getting over the lip of the cliff, but it’d be smooth sailing from there. As long as she wasn’t afraid of heights. But there is one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“There’s no way she could’ve done this without anyone knowing. I don’t care how long of a piss her husband claims he was taking, it wouldn’t have been long enough. He knows exactly what happened, and if I had to guess, I’d say he helped her every step of the way.”