Chapter 3
Tall firs rose like silent sentinels on either side, darkening the way. Cash gave an involuntary shiver, thankful for the sheet of glass between her and the surrounding forest.
Fifteen minutes later, she rounded a bend to see Colcord seated on the open bed of his truck.
He was sporting his usual Stetson, boot--cut jeans, and a pair of muddy hiking boots.
To her relief, two Starbucks cups rested next to him.
He smiled and tipped his cowboy hat as she lurched up behind him and parked.
“Top of the morning, Cash.” He eased off his truck and handed her a cup, throwing her an apologetic smile. “It’s half -empty. The other half is all over my front seat.”
“No apologies necessary, as long as it comes with a curtsy.”
He grinned and gave her an elaborate bow. “That satisfy you?”
She took a sip. The coffee was cold, but she was grateful for the caffeine.
At the edge of the forest, everything was still and silent.
Lofty fir trees closed ranks around them, trunks seeming to lean in toward her.
Two warring red squirrels flitted and chattered through the understory.
Now that she was out of the Tahoe, the feeling of unease grew.
“Let’s get going,” she said, busily checking the GPS on her phone. Even out of cell range, the GPS worked, but she’d had to remember to download the maps ahead of time—-or all she’d see would be a dot for her location on a blank screen.
A footpath followed a stream that gurgled on their left: Middle Fork Derby Creek, according to the GPS.
The path itself was overgrown and faint, sometimes disappearing completely.
Thankfully, after five minutes of hiking, they passed their first trail marker: a faded message informing them that they were entering the Flat Tops Wilderness, with Solitary Lake four miles distant.
“Well, at least there’re some trail signs,” Colcord said, negotiating his way over a fallen tree trunk. “Wouldn’t want to get lost in Neander territory.”
After the disaster at Erebus, the FBI had taken over the case from CBI and the sheriff’s office.
They had been going at it hammer and tongs now for eight months with no success: The Neanders seemed to have vanished.
The popular consensus was that they’d moved northward in the Rockies, into Wyoming, or possibly even as far as Canada.
“Speaking of Neanders,” he went on, “any news from your FBI pals? I heard a rumor the SAC is about to be fired.”
“Normally, they don’t tell us shit,” said Cash. “But we did hear they’re bringing in a new guy who’s supposed to be a badass. CBI just got notice. His name is Makoto Ota. He’s starting next month.”
“You met him yet?”
“We liaise with him and his team on the twentieth. Seems he might be bringing CBI back into the case.”
“About time,” Colcord said. “Things are really getting out of hand. All these Neander admirers with their costumes and demonstrations—-who would’ve believed it? And the ‘Sapiens supremacists’ who think the Neanders should be ‘re--extincted’?”
“It’s the world we live in today,” said Cash, shaking her head.
“God, I miss the old days—-before the internet messed everything up. I used to hike into the Flat Tops as a kid, fishing in Trappers Lake. Some mighty fine native brown in there.”
“You know the Flat Tops?” Cash was surprised.
“Just a part of it. It’s a huge wilderness.” Colcord paused to slap a mosquito on his neck. “So what’s going on with the woolly elephants over in Erebus?”
“Mammoths,” Cash said. “Being taken care of by wildlife biologists, along with the other megafauna. The valley’s closed and being maintained by a nonprofit while the investors fight over ownership and liability.”
“I’ll never forget the size of those things.”
They continued to hike in contemplative silence, the kind shared between old friends. The firs gave way to aspens, rustling in the wind. Despite the dappled sunlight, it was chilly, and she pulled her fleece around her.
As they crossed a meadow, it warmed slightly. Colcord stopped abruptly and pulled a pair of binocs out of his pack, motioning for her to stop.
“You see something?” Cash asked, mildly alarmed.
He peered into the trees. “Western tanager.”
“We got a dead body up there and you’re bird--watching?”
Colcord lowered the binocs, a grin stretching across his face. “I’d never let a stiff interfere with adding another bird to my life list.”
“Life list?”
“A list birders keep of all the bird species they’ve seen in the wild during their lifetimes. I’ve got about”—-Colcord paused, chin in the air to think—-“six hundred and two.”
Cash ducked to hide a smile. “All right, Mr. Audubon.”
They continued onward, stepping around tufts of grass and low mountain brush.
When her phone indicated they were about a half mile from the lake, they hit a steep set of switchbacks.
By the time they reached the top, Cash was pleased with herself; the climb had been far easier than she’d expected, and she vowed to thank Max for kicking her ass during her workouts.
Colcord, slower than Cash, was drenched and blowing hard when he joined her at the top, much to her satisfaction.
“You look as wet as a cold beer on a hot day,” Cash said.
“Holy cow, that’s some serious climbin’.” He took off his cowboy hat and fanned himself. He paused to inspect her face. “Hey, Cash, without a hat, you’re getting a little pink from this high--altitude sun—-I got some sunscreen in my pack.”
“I’m doing just fine,” she said. “I need the vitamin D.”
Colcord fixed the Stetson back on his head. “Gonna end up looking like a lobster, but hey, you’re from Maine, right?” He gave a chuckle.
Cash swallowed her irritation at the dumb joke. They took a quick rest while Cash ran off to “water the trees.”
When she rejoined Colcord, he looked concerned.
“Something moving over there,” he said, indicating the edge of the forest.
Cash was immediately uneasy. She remembered how wily the Neanders had been. How well they had blended in with their surroundings. How goddamned fast they were.
“Let’s keep going,” Cash said, shielding her eyes against the sun. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
Walking quickly, with her hand on the butt of her gun, she followed the trail as it reentered the woods.
The forest darkened as the sun hid behind a cloud, the wind making an eerie rustling through the firs.
Suddenly, she heard it too: the crackle of a heavy step on twigs.
They were being followed. Colcord unholstered his gun, and Cash did the same.
Another step sounded behind her, and Cash whipped around, catching sight of a quick movement before it disappeared into shadows.
She heard two more footfalls in quick succession, this time to her left.
“They’ve got us surrounded,” Cash whispered. She could hear them rustling and weaving through the trees all around.
A creature leapt into the clearing, a flash of brown and cream.
Cash froze, then lowered her firearm. It was an elk—-a bull with a rack, who looked at her, unconcerned, in the manner of an animal that knows it’s too big to be messed with, before ambling back into the shadows.
A baby elk stumbled into the clearing too, its mother following, pausing to lick it absently on the head.
More emerged, a dozen of them, paying no heed to the humans.
The bull threw its head back, calling mournfully, before shaking big antlers and trotting onward.
“They’ve got us surrounded,” Colcord said, grinning and mimicking Cash’s whisper.
“Shut up,” Cash said.
They walked on through a dense forest at a clipped pace, making good time. After about half an hour or so, Cash checked her GPS and saw that they were almost at the lake.
Before she could update Colcord, he halted and pointed. “What the hell’s that?”
A human skeleton made of welded angle iron and rebar stood to one side of the trail, grinning at them with teeth made from an old saw and gears for eyes.
As she looked around, she could see more sculptures made of junk scattered through the forest: a horned monster erupting from a stack of tires; a hunchbacked figure draped in tattered black cloth with a cracked hockey mask for a face; a china doll perched in the hollow of a tree, mouth open, from which scuttled a black beetle; a set of wind chimes made out of rusted dip cans and old pipes hung from a bicycle wheel, now all tangled up.
“Looks like old Willy was an artist,” said Colcord.
Cash squinted. It looked more like Grooms had raided a junkyard with a welding torch.
Her eye alighted on the twisted shape of a rusted bear trap.
She hoped this guy wasn’t some doomsday prepper who had booby--trapped the place.
She remembered a home raid once where Agent Manahan stepped through a string trap, and before they knew it, a board with spikes rammed his left arm.
She picked her way through more carefully, eyes moving from object to object, alert for any signs of snares.
She paused as a glimmer of light caught her eye.
Through the trees, she could see a log cabin and, beyond it, the shining expanse of Solitary Lake.
The body was reported to be inside the cabin.
She turned to Colcord, trying to keep her voice as casual as possible.
“So, CBI’s taking the lead on this one, right? ”
Colcord frowned. “Hell no, Cash, I called CBI in for assistance, not to swoop in and take over. I don’t know your new boss, but if she’s anything like McFaul …” His voice trailed off.
“I’ll be AIC on this case, not her. This is going to be a challenging crime scene—-CBI should lead.” She didn’t add that Holmes ordered her to get the lead on the case. She suspected that would not go down well.
Colcord looked at her. “This is my county. I grew up here. I know the Flat Tops well.”
“Whoa there, pardner. Don’t play the ‘I’m a local’ card with me. I value your expertise—-I didn’t say I was kicking you off the case completely.”
“I brought you in.”
Cash took a deep breath. “The Flat Tops Wilderness spreads out over at least four counties. Last time I checked, you were the elected sheriff of only one. If for some reason the case spills over the line, we’d have to take over anyway.”
Colcord shook his head. “Okay, okay. Fair enough. But if this goes south, it’s on you. I’m the one who has to face the voters.”
At that moment, a long, forlorn, sobbing wail echoed through the trees and died away.
“What the hell was that?” Cash said, her eyes darting around at the creeping shadows of the trees.
“Common loon. The lake is just through those trees.”