34
Ben just found the truck.
Truman’s words echoed in Noelle’s head as she sped to the accident, Max’s SUV right behind hers.
He’d had little information to share, telling her the truck was far down a steep embankment and no one had gone down yet. The county’s special response team was on its way to access the vehicle.
Worst of all, Truman said no one had responded to Ben’s shouts.
Noelle’s vision blurred. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and then corrected her steering as she veered into the oncoming lane.
“We don’t need another accident,” she told herself.
She and Max had just arrived at the sheriff’s department for work when Truman called.
They’d immediately left, and Noelle had cursed herself for getting up early.
If she’d still been at home when Truman called, she would have been less than fifteen minutes from the accident.
From work, the drive was taking forty-five minutes.
Finally.
Up ahead the road was blocked by a sheriff’s department vehicle and a state trooper’s.
Noelle parked on the shoulder and dashed to the back of her vehicle.
She opened the cargo area and, not caring that anyone could see, ripped off her nice work shoes and pants.
Gravel poked through her socks as she yanked on the hiking pants and boots she always stored in the SUV.
A quick glance told her Max was doing the same.
I’m not waiting for the response team.
He finished first and joined her, a pair of gloves in his hands.
“Gloves,” she said as she dug for her own in her bin of extra clothing. She passed over thick snow gloves and grabbed a heavy pair of work gloves. In the five-plus years that she’d lived in the Bend area, she’d learned—the hard way—to be prepared for any weather and any landscape.
Together they jogged past the other vehicles to where an Eagle’s Nest SUV had parked with its nose pointing off the road and a few people stood looking down the hill.
Ropes had been slipped through the SUV’s tow hooks, and she spotted two men working their way down the slope.
“That’s Truman,” she said. “Who’s the other guy? ”
“Samuel,” said Ben.
Noelle spun around to find Ben was behind her, his face drawn. “I’m so glad you found them. Has there been any word?”
“No. I used my bullhorn, but there was no response. Truman and Samuel couldn’t wait for the response team, so we rigged this.” He gestured at the ropes. “It’ll get them down there, but they won’t be able to bring anyone back up if they’re injured.”
“Trauma kit?” asked Max.
“They both put everything medical they could carry in some backpacks. Could start a small hospital.” He gave a strained smile.
Noelle pulled on her gloves. “I’m going down.”
“Now, Noelle,” started Ben.
“Don’t bother trying to stop her,” said Max. “Either of us.” He met Noelle’s gaze. “Let’s go.”
She started down the hill. Even though it was steep, the first part wasn’t too bad as she stepped carefully and used one of the ropes simply for guidance. The path of Ollie’s truck was obvious. It’d ripped up grass, crushed sagebrush, and taken out a couple of trees.
“Look at that,” said Max, pointing at a scraped-up boulder with a jagged line of red paint.
Please be okay.
Noelle swallowed hard. Images of what could be at the bottom kept swamping her thoughts, and she furiously shut them down. A few yards farther, the ground dropped away, creating a vertical wall of maybe ten feet.
“There it is,” said Noelle. The truck was upside down several yards past the drop, its cab crushed. Truman and Samuel had just reached it.
It’s too quiet.
Truman had gotten on his knees and was peering through the driver’s crushed window. Samuel was working his way through the brush around to the passenger side. Suddenly Truman ripped off his backpack and dug through it.
“Let’s get down there.” Noelle got on her stomach and inched over the cliff backward.
It wasn’t the safest move, but she knew it would be the quickest. She gripped Truman’s rope and worked her way down, finding footholds in the dirt.
She dropped the last few feet and then ran, flinging herself on her hands and knees beside Truman.
“Are they okay?” She had to lie down to see inside the cab. The frame of the driver’s door had collapsed, leaving only a twelve-inch space where the window had been. Ollie lay on the roof inside the cab, curled in an awkward position.
“He’s got a pulse,” Truman said grimly. “He briefly came to when I shook his shoulder and yelled at him. His left leg might be broken.”
Noelle scooted a bit on her belly to see past Ollie in the cab.
It was empty. The truck’s other door hung wide open.
“Emma? Where’s Emma?”
Samuel appeared at the passenger side, looking as confused as Noelle felt. “I don’t see her out here.”
Max appeared next to the officer. “We’ll search the area. Truman, what do you need?”
“Fucking Jaws of Life and a stretcher. His heart is beating, but his breathing is shallow.”
“I’ll radio that,” said Samuel, studying the crushed cab. The two men vanished, and Max started to shout for Emma.
“Is he bleeding?” asked Noelle. Emma’s name echoed in her head. She wanted to scream and shout for the girl, but Max and Samuel were handling it, so she focused on Ollie. He was incredibly pale. His eyes were closed, but his chest rose and sank in a steady rhythm.
“Nothing that’s visible.”
Possible internal bleeding?
Truman maneuvered an IV into Ollie’s arm and hung a pouch of fluids from somewhere inside the truck.
“Did you release his seat belt?” asked Noelle. Sirens sounded above. Hopefully the response team had arrived with the ambulance.
“No. He was in this position when I found him, and the seat belt appears to have been cut. Somehow he must have done it.” Truman ripped open some heating packs, shook them to activate, and then tucked them around Ollie.
“I’ll do that,” said Noelle. He gave her a handful, and she ripped and shook while he stretched to do the placement. Then he unfolded a Mylar blanket and tucked it around Ollie the best he could.
“What can I do for you?” asked Noelle, still fighting the urge to search for Emma.
“I don’t think there’s anything else at the moment,” said Truman, the words rushing out of his mouth. “We just need to get him warm. I don’t see active bleeding. But his lower leg is at an odd angle. Could be an issue with his knee instead of a break.”
Noelle met his gaze, trying to project calm while her heart tried to hammer its way out of her chest. “He made it through the night on his own. He’ll be just fine.”
But what about Emma?
“I drove past that exact spot up there a dozen times overnight,” Truman spit out. “How did I miss it? I should have known something like this had happened.”
“It was invisible in the dark,” said Noelle.
“You said that yourself when you called me. Stop beating yourself up about it.” Max’s shouts for Emma grew fainter.
“I’m going to the other side,” said Noelle.
She pushed up to her feet and went around the truck.
The roof on Ollie’s side of the cab had taken the most impact.
Emma’s window had also shattered, and the open door disturbed her.
Noelle peered inside, holding her breath, looking for blood. “Truman, can I borrow your flashlight?”
He tossed it through the cab, and it landed on the roof with a loud thunk. Noelle grabbed it and scanned the passenger side. Chunks of glass were everywhere. The windshield was a crushed web of shattered glass, but Noelle didn’t see blood anywhere.
Maybe Emma wasn’t in the truck?
Then why haven’t I heard from her?
The flashlight lit up a small metal item in the glass that Noelle recognized immediately because Emma always carried it with her.
A heavy-duty pocketknife.
Emma had definitely been in the vehicle. She didn’t go anywhere without that knife.
Did she go for help?
Noelle stood and looked up at the small cliff she’d dropped down. Impossible to go up without help. But if Emma had gone several yards to the right, there was just a continuous slope up to the road. Steep, but doable.
Doable in the dark?
Someone would have spotted her on the road.
She wondered if Emma was wandering around with a head injury. The young woman might have been confused and even gone down the other side of the road.
Movement caught her eye. Several rescue workers were starting down the hill with their equipment. She spotted a stretcher and a large heavy tool to cut and pry open the truck. She ducked back into the truck and spotted Emma’s bag near Ollie’s foot.
“They’re coming, Truman.”
Noelle reached to grab Emma’s bag, and her shoulder brushed something. A dangling portion of seat belt. It’d been cut like Ollie’s. “I think she cut both the seatbelts, Truman. Look.”
He nodded, studying the sliced belt through his small window access. “You’re right. Ollie wouldn’t have been able to reach hers.”
“Then where the fuck is she?” Noelle got to her feet, gripping Emma’s bag like a lifeline, and turned in a circle.
Max’s shouting had grown faint, but Samuel wasn’t too far away.
She dug through the bag, looking for Emma’s phone.
It wasn’t in there. She got back on her knees inside and brushed away some of the glass on the floor (roof). “Truman, do you see her phone?”
“I can’t see anything. I’m coming around to your side,” he said. She backed out and gave him his flashlight. He crawled in the passenger side of the cab for better access to Ollie. “Hey, bud,” Truman said. “Nice to see you with us.”
The young man mumbled something she didn’t understand. Noelle moved in as close as she could and peered over Truman’s shoulder.
Ollie’s eyes were open a bit, blinking rapidly. “Emma?” he asked.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” said Truman.
Ollie abruptly tried to push himself up, panic in his gaze as he thrashed. “I can’t move my leg. It’s stuck!” He froze as agony filled his eyes. “Argh!”
“Hold still,” ordered Truman. “People are coming to get you out of here.”
The young man closed his eyes, breathing heavily, pain etched in the lines of his face. Then he jerked and his eyes flew open, terror in their depths. “He took Emma!”
Noelle caught her breath. “Who? Who took her?”
Ollie met her gaze. “I don’t know!” He gingerly touched his temple and winced. “I think I hit my head and blacked out for a moment. When I came to, Emma was cutting through my seat belt. And then I heard a man.”
“What did he say?”
“He was offering to help, asking if we were okay. Emma talked to him.”
“Emma didn’t seem injured?” asked Noelle, hanging on his every word.
Ollie closed his eyes again. “She moved around. Helped me. So maybe not?”
“And the man?” Truman asked impatiently.
Ollie was quiet for a long second. “He told Emma he’d shoot me if she didn’t leave with him.”
“What the hell?” said Truman.
Noelle couldn’t speak.
“Are you sure that’s what he said, Ollie?” asked Truman.
“Positive. And then he fired the gun. I heard it hit metal somewhere. Oh, Truman, she was screaming when she left with him.” Ollie started to cry. “I couldn’t stop them. She hasn’t come back?”
“We’re not sure where she is,” Truman said, his voice cracking. “And you had no ability to stop him. You were pinned in here and probably have a broken leg.”
“I could have done something!”
Noelle backed away, unable to listen to Ollie’s anguish.
Her mind raced as she scanned the area, hoping for some indication of where this man had taken Emma.
Max was returning to the accident scene, and she strode to meet him.
“Ollie says a man took Emma. He threatened to shoot Ollie if she didn’t go with him! ”
She realized she was shaking, and Max grasped her arms to steady her. “Does he remember anything else?” he asked intently.
“I don’t know,” Noelle said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “I had to get out of there. He’s blaming himself. But clearly she’s missing!”
He pulled her into his arms and hugged hard. “We’ll find her. We’ve done it before.” He pressed his lips to her temple.
Truman joined them, and Noelle backed out of Max’s arms. But not all the way. The chief’s face was grim. “Ollie says someone deliberately ran them off the road.”
Shock filled Noelle.
“A black Expedition. Oregon plates,” continued Truman.
“First it passed them at high speeds, and then a bit later Ollie came around a curve, and it was coming at them in his lane. He braked and moved to the other lane, but the black vehicle deliberately did the same. That’s when he went off the road. ”
“Jesus,” whispered Max.
“There’s more. After the vehicle first passed them, Emma said she’d seen it parked on the shoulder as they turned off the road from her old place. She’d assumed it was unmarked law enforcement.”
Noelle understood. “He was waiting for them.”
“Waiting for Emma or both of them?” asked Max.
“Emma,” said Noelle. “He came all the way down to the accident and got her.”
“Premeditated,” said Max. “But why? She’s just a kid.”
“She’s a young woman. That’s enough reason for some people,” whispered Noelle, acid burning in her stomach, sick images forming in her mind.
“He made a big effort and took a huge risk to get her,” said Truman. “She could have died in the car accident; they both could have. It’s not logical.” He glanced back at Ollie’s truck. The rescue workers crawling inside.
“Since when are criminals logical?” said Noelle. “We need to find who else saw that SUV parked on the shoulder yesterday. And get a BOLO out on a black Expedition.”
“We’ll get her back,” said Max.
Will we?