Mountain Captive (Eagle Mountain: Criminal History #4)

Chapter Thirteen

Rand was off work the next day and spent the morning doing yard work around the cabin while Chris worked on a new painting on the screened-in porch she had appropriated as a temporary studio. Every time he passed by, he looked up to see her poised before an easel, sometimes working with a brush or pencil, other times standing back and considering the work so far.

He could get used to her presence in his life, though he wanted more. An intimacy she wasn’t ready to give and a trust he didn’t know if he could ever earn.

He had just fetched a can of wasp spray from the garage to deal with a yellow jacket nest under the back deck when his phone emitted an alert. He checked the screen and found a message from the 911 dispatcher: Missing hikers, Guthrie Mill area. All available volunteers needed for search.

He went inside, still carrying the spray. He set the can on the counter and went in search of Chris. She had laid aside her paintbrush and was staring at her phone also. “Where is Guthrie Mill?” he asked.

She pocketed her phone. “It’s an old stamp mill for processing gold ore in the mountains, about ten thousand feet in elevation,” she said. “It’s south of Gallagher’s Basin.”

“That’s not far from where we were hiking yesterday.”

“Not far as the crow flies,” she said. “A lot longer if you travel by road. It’s a beautiful area but a terrible place to be lost. Lots of hazards.”

Rand thought of the first search and rescue training class he had attended, about the psychology of searches. “Let’s hope we can find these people before they get into trouble,” he said.

“I’ll get my gear,” she said, and left the room.

They met up at the front door a few moments later and rode together to search and rescue headquarters, where a crowd had gathered of both SAR volunteers and others who had gotten word of the need for searchers. “The 911 call came in at ten this morning,” Danny said when the SAR team gathered around him. “Two adults—a husband and wife in their forties, and their fifteen-year-old son. They set out two days ago to explore the area around Guthrie Mill. The neighbors noticed this morning they hadn’t returned and became concerned and made the call.”

“Are we sure they’re really missing?” Ryan asked. “Maybe they took off somewhere else and didn’t bother informing their neighbor of the change of plans.”

“The caller was insistent that something was wrong,” Danny said. “He said none of the family members were answering their phones and the husband was supposed to report for work this morning and didn’t. He also said the boy is a diabetic and needs regular insulin.”

“Do we know their names?” Sheri asked.

“The caller referred to the man as Mike and the son as AJ,” Danny said. “The woman is Ruth. No last names. And the caller lost the connection before giving his own information. The 911 operator said the connection was poor, and the caller spoke with a thick accent she had trouble understanding. She thinks his name was Morris or Maurice, but the call dropped before she was able to get more information. She thought maybe he had driven into the mountains to look for the family. His phone didn’t register with the 911 system.”

“That’s a little suspicious,” Chris said.

“Maybe,” Danny said. “But bad phone service is pretty common in these mountains and canyons. We can’t risk ignoring this in case it is legitimate. That area around the mill is particularly hazardous. There are open pits, collapsing structures and rusting equipment.”

“That kid could be in trouble if he needs insulin,” Hannah said.

“The sheriff’s department is looking for vehicles at trailheads in the area that might belong to this family,” Danny continued. “They’ve asked us to begin our search at the mill and move outward. We’ll work in teams of four.”

Rand and Chris teamed up with Carrie Andrews and Caleb Garrison. “We’re supposed to focus from the area south of the mill to Raccoon Creek.” Caleb looked up from the map the group had been given. “Are any of you familiar with the area?”

“I am,” Carrie and Chris replied at the same time.

“I’ve been to the mill a couple of times but not recently,” Caleb said.

“I’ve never been there,” Rand admitted.

“Just follow us.” Carrie stashed the map in her pack. “Let’s go, and hope we can find this lost family.”

O NLY THE SHELL of the Guthrie Mill remained—the weathered wooden walls, three stories high, topped by a metal roof streaked with orange rust. Light streamed through gaps in the boards, and the whole structure leaned a foot to the left, the victim of almost a century of punishing winds and deep winter snows. The ground around the structure was a junkyard of splintered boards and rusting metal, the husk of a boiler, snarls of thick cable, discarded tin cans, and the remnants of the iron rails that had once been a path for ore cars bringing raw materials for the mill to process.

Chris was drawn to places like this, and she had painted many similar scenes. Wildflowers grew among the debris, bending in a stiff breeze, and fluffy clouds scudded by in a delft-blue sky. It was the perfect setting for a summer outing—and a terrible place to be lost. The ground sloped away on all sides into deep ravines and rock-filled gullies, rock uplifts, and the remnants of other buildings that had supported the mill’s operation, making it impossible to see clearly for more than a few dozen yards in any direction. “When was the last time you were up here?” Rand asked as the four searchers picked their way over the rough ground.

“Harley and I were up here last summer,” Chris said. “I had an idea for a new painting and spent a couple of hours poking around and making sketches. We were the only ones here that afternoon.”

“Did you complete the painting?” he asked.

“I did. It sold right away. To a woman from Cincinnati, I think.” She scanned the surroundings for any clue that someone else had passed by here recently—a torn bit of clothing, a food wrapper, debris that appeared disturbed—but saw nothing.

“What are we supposed to be looking for?” Rand asked. “Besides the obvious, a person or persons?”

“Look for anything that could have attracted someone off the trail,” Chris said.

“They might have followed the old tramway” Carrie said. She indicated the remains of the towers evenly spaced across the mountain. “There’s a lot of old cable and tram cars beneath the towers that interest people. And a lot of rough terrain where someone could fall or get hurt.”

“Then let’s follow the tramline,” Caleb said.

They set out along the tramline, but Chris had trouble focusing on the search. She couldn’t shake the sense that something wasn’t right. Why had the 911 caller provided so many specific details—the family’s destination and the fact that the boy had diabetes—but failed to lead with important information, such as the family’s name or his own contact info? And if the family had really been gone for two days, why hadn’t a relative or coworker reported them missing?

She reminded herself that it wasn’t her job to raise suspicions about the call. She was here to search for people who might be in trouble and to help them if they were found. If they were all wasting their time, there were worse ways to spend a summer afternoon than in this beautiful spot.

A delicate melody, like someone playing a flute, drifted to her. Was that music or a trick of the wind? She stopped.

Ahead of her, Rand stopped also. “What is it?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I thought I heard music.”

“I don’t hear anything,” Caleb said.

“Which direction was it coming from?” Rand asked.

“I don’t know. Let’s keep going.” She was freaking herself out, hearing things that weren’t there. Better to focus on the search.

They hadn’t gone much farther when Caleb halted. “I thought I saw movement over there.” He pointed to a copse of stunted pinions.

“Yes.” Chris leaned forward. “A flash of blue—like a shirt or something.” She had just glimpsed the motion through the trees, the brightness of the blue out of place amid the greens and browns of the landscape.

“Is it another searcher?” Rand asked.

“No one else is assigned to this sector.” Carrie started forward.

They all followed. Chris was at the back of the line, and kept looking toward the trees. There! She had seen the flash of color again.

Then she heard the music once more. A high-pitched melody. She stopped, but the others kept going, intent on reaching the trees. She tried to figure out where the music was coming from. Back the way they had come and to the left. She just needed to get close enough to verify there was really someone there.

She took a few steps off the trail, keeping the others in sight. She would check this out, then catch back up with them to report. Abruptly, the music stopped, replaced by a voice: “Help!” The sound was faint and high pitched. A woman, or maybe a child.

Heart pounding, she broke into a trot, moving toward the sound. “Hello?” she called. “Is someone there?”

Something landed on her head, covering her face. She clawed at the rough cloth, but someone grabbed her hands. She tried to cry out, but her voice was barely audible. And then there was nothing but darkness.

C ARRIE STOPPED AGAIN and stared intently ahead of them. Rand stood beside her. “There’s definitely someone up there,” he said.

“I see them.” Carrie took off again at a jog. “Hey!” she shouted. “We’re with search and rescue!”

“Why are they running away?” Caleb asked. He caught up with Rand and Carrie. The person they had been pursuing had disappeared behind a grouping of boulders.

“Stop!” Carrie called. “We need to talk to you.”

“Where did they go?” Caleb asked. “I don’t see them.”

Rand looked back over his shoulder, expecting to see Chris hurrying to catch up with them. Instead, there was no one there. “Where’s Chris?” he asked.

Carrie stopped. “She was right behind us.”

“Chris!” Rand listened for a response but heard nothing. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted again: “Chris!”

“Caleb, wait!” Carrie called. “We can’t find Chris.”

Caleb jogged back to them. “I can’t find whoever we saw up there either.” He removed his cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “What happened to Chris?”

“I don’t know.” Rand started back the way they had come. “Chris!” he shouted. Fear constricted his chest, making it hard to breathe. He searched the ground for any sign of a scuffle, but the hard surface showed no footprints or indications of a disturbance.

Carrie took out her radio. “The sheriff’s department is supposed to have a drone up to help with the search,” she said. “I’ll ask them to head this way, see if they can spot Chris.”

“How could she have just disappeared?” Caleb asked. “And where did that guy we were chasing vanish to?”

“I think he lured us away on purpose,” Rand said.

Caleb frowned. “Why would he do that?”

“So that someone else could grab Chris.” He scanned the empty landscape, seeing nothing but mining ruins, rocks and a distant bank of dark clouds in the distance. Rain was coming, though it wasn’t here yet. “The Vine didn’t leave the county after all. Yesterday Chris and I hiked the Blue Sky Trail, and we spotted some campers across the valley that we thought might be them. I meant to report the sighting to the sheriff but never got the chance. The story about the missing family may have been a ruse to get us up here to the mill so they could snatch her.” A cold knot in the pit of his stomach told him he was right.

Carrie ended her call. “Danny wants us to report back to the trailhead. They’re calling off the search.”

“Why are they calling it off?” Caleb asked.

Carrie shrugged. “Not sure. He just said to meet at the trailhead.”

“Did you let him know Chris is missing?” Rand asked.

“I did. He says we need to talk to the sheriff. They need coordinates to pinpoint the search.” She clapped Rand on the back. “Let’s go. The sooner we tell them what we know, the sooner they can find her.”

“You two go on to the trailhead,” Rand said. “I’ll stay here.”

“No way,” Caleb said. “First rule of working in the wilderness is you don’t split up.”

“Something must have distracted Chris, or she would have remembered that,” Carrie said.

Rand wanted to know what that something was. He thought about arguing with the others, but that was delaying the search. He took out his phone and called up a mapping app to pinpoint their location. He would come back here—with or without the others. He wasn’t going to abandon Chris.

“W E ’ VE CALLED OFF the search because we’ve determined the call was a hoax,” Sheriff Travis Walker addressed the crowd of searchers gathered at the Guthrie Mill trailhead. “We haven’t identified anyone who fits the description the caller gave, the phone itself was a temporary ‘burner’ phone purchased at the local gas station by someone the clerk could only describe as ‘an average-looking, middle-aged white male.’ We haven’t located any vehicles left overnight at any of the trailheads, not just in the area of the mill but anywhere in the county. We have issued a plea for any information from anyone who might know the family described or the person who called in the report, but at this time we feel there’s too great a risk that someone else will be hurt while searching for someone we can’t be satisfied even exists.”

“What about Chris Mercer’s disappearance?” Rand asked. “What are you doing about that?”

“We’re sending up a drone to survey the area where she went missing, and we’re enlisting search and rescue to assist in a targeted search for her.” Travis scanned the faces of those around him. “I know you’re concerned that one of your own is missing,” he said. “I promise, we’re doing everything in our power to locate her. She is our number one priority.”

“Search and rescue has a search dog, right?” Rand remembered meeting the woman who had trained the dog—Anna something.

“Anna and Jacquie are away for the week doing a course for an additional certification,” Danny said. “By the time we got another dog and handler here, the rain would have degraded any scent trail.”

At his words, Rand and several others looked up at the dark clouds moving toward them. “Can you think of anything else that would help us find her?” Travis asked.

“Chris and I hiked the Blue Sky Trail yesterday,” Rand said. “We spotted some campers across the valley. We thought it might be some of the members of the Vine. I meant to call and tell you about it this morning, but I forgot.” He had been too distracted by his new closeness with Chris to want to think about the Vine.

“Do you have coordinates for this camp?” Travis asked.

“We were standing at the top of the ridge at the end of the trail, looking south.”

Deputy Dwight Prentice approached. “Sheriff, if I could speak to you for a moment.”

Travis moved away with Dwight. Rand followed, listening in on their conversation while trying to appear uninterested. “Wes has located a group of campers with the drone,” Dwight said. “They have a couple of tents set up in the next basin over from the mill. There’s no sign of Chris Mercer or of anyone fitting the description of the supposed missing family.”

Travis looked back at Rand. “How many people were in this camp you and Chris saw from the Blue Sky Trail?” he asked.

“There were over a dozen small tents and several large ones,” he said. “Easily a couple of dozen people of all ages.”

“The drone reported only a couple of tents and five or six people,” Dwight said.

“And where are they, exactly?” Travis asked.

Dwight consulted his notebook. “A basin to the west of Guthrie Mill, next to a big outcropping of rock.”

“That’s a different area than the one Chris and I were looking into,” Rand said.

“Let’s talk to these people anyway,” Travis said. “Maybe they’ve seen or heard something.” He keyed his radio microphone and told Wes to keep searching with the drone. “Dwight, come with me to talk to these campers.”

Rand moved forward. “I want to come too.”

“No,” Travis said.

“I’ve spent more time in the Vine’s camp than anyone else here except Danny,” Rand said. “I’ll recognize if these campers are part of the group.”

“Why do you think the Vine is involved?” Travis asked.

“Because Chris is missing. The group has been hunting her for fifteen years, and they’ve already tried to take her once recently. I’m sure they had something to do with her disappearance.”

Travis and Dwight exchanged a look Rand interpreted as skeptical. “You can’t come with us,” Travis said.

“Then I’ll follow you up there.”

“I could have you detained for interfering with an investigation.”

“What would that do but create more paperwork and hassle for you?” Rand did his best to look calm and nonthreatening even though inside, this waste of time chafed. “I promise I’ll stay out of the way. But you’ll have a third set of eyes on hand to watch these people while you question them.”

Travis fixed him with a hard stare, but Rand didn’t relent. The sheriff was the first to blink. “You can come with us,” he said. “But you’ll stay back, follow orders and keep quiet.”

“Yes, sir.”

Travis and Dwight collected packs from their cruiser and set out up the trail to the mill, Rand following behind. None of them spoke for the first mile; then Travis glanced back at Rand. “How long have you known Chris?” he asked.

“A few weeks.”

“And you believe what she’s told you about this group, the Vine?”

“Yes. You heard that man on the trail the day Chris and I met—the one who told her to get ready for her wedding.”

“People with mistaken beliefs or delusions aren’t necessarily threatening,” Travis said.

“She said the Vine killed her father when he opposed their leader.”

“She was a child. Maybe he really did eat poisonous mushrooms.”

“I believe Chris. And she didn’t make up the two men who attacked me and broke into her apartment. What I saw when Danny and I went to the camp fit with her description of the group.”

Travis nodded. “Tell me again what happened when she disappeared this morning.”

Rand repeated the story of seeing someone moving ahead and going to investigate. “Chris was bringing up the rear of the group. I was focused on whoever was ahead of us and didn’t notice she had fallen farther behind. When I did look back, she was gone.”

“What do you think happened?” Travis asked.

“I think you’re right about the missing persons call being a hoax. I think whoever called in that story did so to lure search and rescue into the area around the mill. They knew Chris was likely to respond to the call.”

“They couldn’t be sure she would volunteer to be part of the search,” Dwight said.

“If she didn’t, they didn’t lose anything,” Rand said.

“They took a big chance,” Travis said. “The area around the mill was crawling with searchers.”

“It’s a big area,” Rand said. “Even with so many people searching, we were spread out. And there’s a lot of cover up there—rocks, clumps of trees, old mine buildings and the changing terrain itself.”

“Maybe she fell and was injured,” Dwight said.

That was a possibility Rand had considered. “Why didn’t we hear her cry out?”

“Maybe you were too far away,” Dwight said. “Or she lost consciousness.”

“Maybe.” Rand didn’t like to think Chris had been hurt, but if the injury wasn’t serious, wouldn’t that be better than being back in the clutches of the Vine? “Is the drone still looking for her?” he asked.

“It is,” the sheriff said. “And I spoke with Danny. There’s a new team of searchers headed up right behind us.”

After three miles and an hour of steady hiking, they reached the mill. Dwight checked the coordinates he had received from the drone. “Looks like we head this way,” he said, and pointed toward the same copse of trees where Rand and his group of searchers had seen someone running away from them.

They passed through the trees and hiked for another forty-five minutes before they spotted two tents—one orange and one lime green—set in a broad bowl on the side of the mountain. As they drew nearer, Rand counted five people, all adults, moving among the tents. Backpacks and other camping gear had been arranged near a fire ring.

Two young couples made up the group. A slender man in his twenties, with straight dark hair and glasses, moved forward. He focused on Dwight’s and Travis’s uniforms. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“We’re looking for a missing woman,” Travis said. “Midtwenties, five foot six, medium build, shoulder-length blue hair.”

The man shook his head. “We haven’t seen anyone like that.” The second man and the two women, who had gathered around him, shook their heads also.

Travis looked around at the tents and other gear. The tents were small—not the place to hide someone. “How long have you been camping here?” Travis asked.

“We set up last night. It’s okay to be camped here, isn’t it?”

“It’s not illegal to camp here,” Travis said.

Something rustled in the trees, and Rand glanced over in time to see a dark-haired girl step into the clearing. At the sight of Travis and the others, she started and moved back into the cover of the leaves. “Who was that?” Travis asked.

“That’s my niece,” the second man, a broad-shouldered blond, said. “She’s very shy.”

Rand stared after the girl. “Ask her to come back,” he said. “I want to talk to her.”

“Who are you?” the first man asked.

Travis sent Rand a quelling look. “Can your niece answer a few questions for us?” the sheriff asked.

“You won’t get anything useful from her,” the second man said. “She’s got the mental capacity of a three-year-old. A sad situation, really.”

“I’d still like to talk to her,” Travis said.

The two men looked at each other. “I’m going to have to refuse,” the blond said. “No disrespect, Sheriff, but I don’t see any need to upset her. She couldn’t tell you anything useful.”

Silence stretched as Travis and the blond faced each other; then the sheriff took a step back. “We’ll be back if we have more questions,” he said.

Rand waited until they were a quarter mile from camp before he burst out. “I know that girl,” he said. “She was in the Vine’s camp the night Danny and I tried to help that pregnant woman, Lana. They called her Serena. And she seemed as smart as any ten-or eleven-year-old.”

“If they’ve got Chris, she isn’t in that camp,” Dwight said. “I got a good look at the tents. They’re so small I don’t think they could hide anyone in them.”

“She’s probably in the woods,” Rand said. “Wherever the girl was coming from. That’s why they didn’t want us talking to her.”

“Or they might not want strangers interviewing a child,” Dwight said.

“We’ll get searchers up here,” Travis said. “It’s public land. They can’t stop us from searching.”

“And while we’re waiting, they’ll move Chris,” Rand said. He turned back toward the camp. “I’m going back there to look for Chris myself.”

“Don’t do it,” Travis said.

Rand made a move to turn away, but Dwight took hold of his arm. “Don’t do anything rash,” Dwight said. “You’re not going to face off by yourself against four of them, and who knows how many more? If they do have Chris, they probably have her guarded. Smarter to let us check out the situation with a drone and get back up there with the numbers to deal with whatever kind of offense they try to present.”

Rand glanced at Travis. “We may not have a lot of time,” he said. “Groups like this are used to moving around a lot, avoiding any attention from police.”

“We’re wasting time right now,” Travis said. “Don’t delay us any longer.”

Rand glanced back over his shoulder. He wanted to go back and look for Chris, but he could see the foolishness of trying to take on the group by himself, unarmed. “All right,” he said. “I’ll wait.” But he wouldn’t wait long.