Chapter 20 Dean
DEAN
The forest around Ember Lake had transformed into a coordinated search operation within thirty minutes of discovering Lacey's abandoned rental truck.
Emergency vehicles lined the access road, their flashing lights casting eerie shadows through the trees as search teams organized themselves into systematic patterns.
Dean found himself paired with June as they prepared to canvas the developed camping areas while other teams took responsibility for the wilderness trails and deeper forest sections.
The decision to search every cabin and tent, regardless of the late hour, had been unanimous.
When someone's life was at stake, social conventions about disturbing people after ten o'clock at night became irrelevant.
"We'll take the family camping section," Holt announced, dividing up the search area on a hand-drawn map. "Dean and June, can you handle the cabin rentals on the north side of the lake?"
"Of course," Dean replied, accepting the flashlight and emergency radio Holt handed him. His chest felt tight with anxiety, but his breathing was still manageable as long as he stayed focused on the task at hand.
The cabin rental area consisted of about twenty small structures scattered through the trees, ranging from rustic one-room buildings to larger family accommodations.
Most showed signs of occupancy despite the late hour, with porch lights on and the soft glow of interior lighting visible through curtained windows.
"We'll start at the far end and work our way back toward the main road," June suggested as they approached the first cabin. "That way we're not doubling back on ourselves."
Dean nodded, grateful for June's practical approach to the search. Having her beside him helped keep his mind focused on the immediate task rather than spiraling into worst-case scenarios about what might have happened to Lacey.
The first several cabins yielded nothing useful.
Concerned vacationers and local residents emerged in bathrobes and pajamas to answer their urgent knocking, all expressing sympathy and offers to help when Dean and June explained the situation and showed them Lacey's photograph.
But none of them had seen anything suspicious or noticed anyone matching Lacey's description in the area.
It wasn't until they reached a larger cabin near the end of the row that they got their first real lead.
"Mom, Dad, there are people at the door asking about that lady we saw earlier," called a teenage voice from inside the cabin when Dean knocked.
A middle-aged man appeared at the door, followed closely by his wife and two teenagers, who looked to be about 15 and 17 years old.
"I'm sorry to bother you so late," Dean began, "but we're looking for a missing woman. Dr. Lacey Peltz. She disappeared this afternoon, and her car was found in the lake."
"Oh no," the woman gasped. "Is she all right?"
"We don't know," June replied, showing them the photograph on her phone. "Have you seen this woman anywhere around the campground today?"
The teenage girl immediately perked up with recognition. "Yes, that's her. We saw her this afternoon, maybe around four or five o'clock."
"Where did you see her?" Dean asked urgently.
"She was walking toward the back of the camping area," the boy added. "Toward that old burned-out cabin that's all cordoned off with police tape."
Dean felt his blood turn to ice water. The burned cabin. The site of the fire that had claimed five lives ten years ago, including his son Shaun.
"Was she alone?" June asked, her voice carefully controlled.
"Yeah, she was by herself," the girl confirmed. "We thought it was weird because nobody's supposed to go back there. There are signs and everything."
"Which direction exactly?" Dean managed to ask.
The father stepped onto his porch and pointed toward a barely visible trail that led deeper into the forest. "There's an old path that goes back about half a mile to where that cabin used to be.
The whole area has been off-limits since the fire, but you can still follow the trail if you know where to look. "
"Thank you so much," June said quickly. "You've been incredibly helpful."
As they hurried away from the cabin, Dean felt his chest beginning to tighten with more than just anxiety about Lacey's safety.
The thought of returning to the site where Shaun had died, where Dean had been unable to save his son and four other young people, brought back memories he'd spent ten years trying to manage.
"I'll call Holt," June said as they rushed toward the trailhead, pulling out her phone while they walked. "They need to know where we're heading."
Dean could only nod, his focus entirely on the narrow trail that disappeared into the darkness ahead of them. Every step brought them closer to a place he'd avoided for a decade, but if Lacey was there, if she needed help, nothing else mattered.
"They're on their way," June reported after a brief conversation. "Holt is redirecting the search teams to our location."
Dean pulled out his flashlight and swept the beam across the forest floor, looking for any sign that someone had passed this way recently. The trail was faint but still visible, marked by occasional broken branches and worn patches in the undergrowth.
"There," he said, stopping suddenly and directing the light at the ground. "Fresh footprints. She definitely came this way."
The prints were small and showed the distinctive tread pattern of hiking boots. They were pressed deep enough into the soft earth to suggest someone walking quickly, perhaps urgently.
Dean and June pushed forward along the increasingly overgrown trail, their flashlights cutting through the darkness as they followed the path deeper into the forest. The familiar landmarks began to emerge from Dean's memory despite the years that had passed and the changes that had occurred naturally over time.
After what felt like hours but was probably only fifteen minutes, they reached a clearing where the skeletal remains of the burned cabin stood like a monument to tragedy.
"Be careful," Dean warned June as they approached the ruins. "This structure isn't sound. Maybe you should stay back here while I check inside."
"Not a chance," June replied firmly. "We're doing this together."
Dean understood her determination, but the sight of the blackened timbers and collapsed roof brought back a flood of memories from that terrible night ten years ago.
The frantic radio calls, the race through these same woods, the desperate attempts to reach the people trapped inside the burning building.
They navigated carefully through the unstable remains of the cabin's main room, testing each step to make sure the floor would support their weight. Dean's flashlight beam swept methodically across the debris-covered ground, looking for any sign that Lacey had been here.
Both of them froze when the light picked up dark stains on the charred wooden floor.
"Oh no," June breathed, recognizing what they were seeing.
Blood. Fresh blood.
They moved forward more cautiously, following the trail of stains toward the back of the ruined structure. Outside the cabin's rear wall, Dean's flashlight revealed clear drag marks in the dirt, as if someone had been pulled or carried away from the building.
The marks led toward a cluster of large oak trees about fifty yards behind the cabin, and as they followed the trail, Dean felt panic beginning to overwhelm his ability to think clearly.
Then his flashlight beam fell on a motionless form lying near the base of the largest tree.
"Those are Lacey's shoes," June's voice cracked as she spotted the distinctive hiking boot on the body's foot. "Oh no."
Before Dean could stop her, June flew past him, calling out frantically, "Lacey! Lacey!"
The combination of physical exertion, emotional stress, and proximity to the site of his worst memories triggered the familiar tightening in Dean's chest that warned of an incoming breathing attack. His airways began to constrict, making each breath a struggle.
"No, no, not now," he gasped, fumbling for the inhaler he always carried in his jacket pocket.
Dean forced himself to stop and use the medication, fighting down panic as his respiratory system rebelled against the stress. The attack lasted only a minute or two, but it felt like an eternity when Lacey might be dying just yards away from him.
Finally able to breathe somewhat normally again, Dean stumbled forward toward where June was kneeling beside the still form.
"Dean, she's still alive!" June shouted as he approached. "She's freezing cold, but there's still a pulse." June's voice caught as she took in the full extent of what she was seeing. "There's blood. So much blood."
Dean dropped to his knees beside June, his hands shaking as he gently touched Lacey's face. Her skin was cold and pale, but he could feel the faint warmth of life still there.
"Lacey," he said softly. "Lacey, can you hear us?"
The sound of barking dogs and approaching voices echoed through the forest, growing closer as the other search teams followed their trail.
"We're over here!" June yelled toward the sounds. "We found her! Hurry, please hurry!"
Carmen appeared in what seemed like seconds, her medical kit already in her hands as she rushed toward them.
"You're going to have to move back," she told Dean and June as gently as she could while still being firm. "We need room to work."
Dean leaned over Lacey one more time, his heart breaking at the sight of her injuries. "Please, Lacey, come back to us. Hold on." His voice was rough with emotion. "I love you. Please, please come back to us."
He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, tasting the metallic hint of blood and feeling the alarming coolness of her skin.
Lacey's eyes fluttered open for just a moment, unfocused but aware.
"Dean?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "Dean..."
Then her eyes closed again and she went limp.