by B. J Daniels
She walked, concentrating on the narrow game trail through the jungle. At one point, she tripped over one of the tree roots that grew across the path and almost fell. Resting her hand against a tree trunk, she tried to catch her breath. Her chest ached and she felt tears burn her eyes.
A limb snapped off to her right. She froze, listening. She couldn’t see anything in the thick vegetation nor back down the trail behind her. She started walking again. A little faster. By now Ford would know she wasn’t meeting him at the guest house.
Morning gave way to afternoon as she headed for the band of rocks, stopping only to take a drink or catch her breath.
“Where had you been, Dad?” she said out loud as she looked up through the rain and mist at the steep rock cliffs over the tops of the trees.
She wondered about his state of mind before the fall and realized she didn’t have a clue as to what her father might have been thinking. He’d married Emily, hadn’t he? That alone made her wonder if she still knew her father at all.
* * *
CHARITY WAS STILL shaken by her run-in with Wade Dennison. She parked in front of her newspaper office and sat in her VW bug for a few minutes, trying to collect herself. As much as she suspected Wade was a murderer, she hated seeing him the way he’d been on the street.
Worse, he’d made her wonder if she could be wrong about him. Sure, he would deny everything, especially now when it appeared his house of cards was coming down. But there’d been a ring of truth in his words. And Charity knew the power of love. If Wade really had loved Daisy enough to accept not only her affair but possibly the child from that affair—
The passenger side door of her car jerked open and, in a flurry of rain and wind, Sheriff Mitch Tanner slid into the seat next to her.
Charity tried to still her beating heart, this time from being startled out of her wits on the tail of her run-in with Wade. “Hey,” she said with less than her usual enthusiasm.
“Are you all right?” Mitch asked, picking up on it.
She told him about her recent encounter with Wade.
“He sounds like he might be losing it,” Mitch said when she’d finished. “That could make him even more dangerous.”
“I felt sorry for him,” she admitted.
“Just don’t let your guard down around him, all right? And try not to find yourself alone with him.”
She smiled at Mitch’s concern. “No dark alleys?”
“Stay away from Dennison Ducks.”
He was asking her to back off from her investigation. It was like asking her not to breathe and he had to know that.
“I’ll be careful,” she said.
He nodded, not looking happy as he opened his door and got out. No kiss. No “see you later.” No “how about a late lunch or a romantic dinner?” Or about that earlier proposal that she move in with him. No nothing.
Charity sighed as he got back into his patrol car and drove away. She waited but he didn’t brake or turn around and come back. She opened her door and rushed across the sidewalk through the rain to the Timber Falls Courier. But as she opened her office door, she stopped dead. Wade’s estranged wife Daisy was sitting in Charity’s office chair, obviously waiting for her. Daisy had today’s paper in her hand and she was crying.
* * *
ROZALYN WAS TOO EASY to find. And that’s what worried him. Anyone could figure out where she’d gone.
Ford parked next to her SUV. He hadn’t seen any other vehicles on the highway but it would have been easy to hide one in this dense forest, especially with dozens of old trees partially grown in the logging roads. A car could be just a few feet off the road and completely hidden.
Is that why no one had found Liam Sawyer’s truck and camper? Ford wished he thought that was the case. That Liam had hid it, but Ford’s intellect told him different. Liam wouldn’t know to hide his rig anymore than he would have known to hide himself. He wouldn’t have realized how much danger he was in until it was too late.
Father like daughter, Ford thought as he got out of his pickup, slung his pack over his shoulder and started up at the mountain. The Cascade Range formed a wall of mile-high peaks from British Columbia to northern California, running the entire length of Oregon. Sixty million years ago this was seabed. The fossilized remains of ancient fish and tropical plants were entombed beneath these mountains and foothills by layers of accumulated lava and ash.
He looked toward the mountains and the band of cliffs that could be seen over the treetops. Walls of columnar basalt, granitic intrusions, ash beds, building-size chunks of andesitic magma that cooled into granite rock.
A scientist’s heaven. Or hell, Ford thought as he zipped up his raincoat and pulled up the hood, the drizzle falling around him.
For months Pacific Ocean storms moved inland across the lower Coast Range mountains to the five-thousand-foot wall of the Cascade Mountains, clouds banking up and turning to rain—two hundred inches of the stuff falling each year.
It was the rain that created the long growing season and the lush, jungle-like groves of deciduous and conifer trees, six-hundred-year-old towering Douglas fir, cedar, Western hemlock, vine maple, huckleberry bushes and understories of wild rhododendron tangles, more than thirty types of ferns, four hundred varieties of wildflowers, two hundred species of mushrooms, nine hundred types of thick mosses and twelve hundred species of lichens.
It was a jungle of sorts and the last place on earth he wanted to be. But he had no choice. Rozalyn was up there somewhere and he feared she wasn’t alone—and didn’t know it.
He followed the narrow animal trail and her tracks through the dense forest, brushing aside the gauzelike yellow drape of Old Man’s Beard that hung from tree limbs. The lichen grew up to thirty feet long and several inches thick up here.
Ahead, he caught another glimpse of the band of rock cliffs that ran along the mountainside, and knew that was where Rozalyn would be headed.
It was easy to understand what Liam had been doing up there. The majority of Bigfoot sightings were in places just like it. There were numerous accounts of huge, hairy creatures overturning massive boulders looking for food, stacking the overturned rocks into huge cairns. Another tale told of the creatures throwing the rocks down mountainsides to chase away humans.
He sincerely doubted Rozalyn had to worry about Bigfoot. But who knew what else was in the woods today?
Something else worried him. How the Bigfoot hunters had gotten Liam down. That was a long way to bring him out. True, it was the only way out. A helicopter couldn’t land near there. But still, it seemed improbable that some hunters had carried the injured man out because of the liability alone. Maybe that was why they hadn’t left their names.
Ford quickened his step, his anxiety growing stronger as he caught glimpses of the cliffs shrouded in cold fog and drizzle. A stream trickled over stair steps of mossy granite. In these two hundred thousand acres of heavily wooded wilderness there were more lakes, ponds, marshes and sloughs than a man could count.
He hated it all. The rain. The dark, dank rainforest of the Cascades. The memory it always brought back from his childhood. It was one of the few places he remembered his father bringing him. It had been shortly after the divorce. Before his father had completely disappeared from their lives.
The memory still made his heart pound with the fear of the nine-year-old boy he’d been. His memory of his father and the Cascades was one of fear. And a knowledge of something he hadn’t wanted to know.
Mist moved across the face of the cliffs. He concentrated on finding Roz. Then he’d look for the bones. Bones decomposed quickly in a rainforest. Those that didn’t became buried beneath the dense vegetation. If there was a Bigfoot, the theory was that he hid in a cave when he became sick and was about to die. It explained the lack of discovered bones. Because this country was full of caves.
Roz’s tracks were easy to follow. Nor could she be far ahead of him. He lengthened his stride, anxious to catch up with her, his disco
very at Lost Creek Falls this morning making him more nervous with each step.
Not long after he crossed a huge fallen cedar that spanned a roaring creek, the trail opened into a cool green glen surrounded by the vast forest.
The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun. He pushed back his hood and stood in the glen, listening for Rozalyn. She couldn’t have had that much of a head start on him and still he’d yet to catch her.
He glanced down at the muddy trail. Her footprints held only a little rain. If he kept moving he should catch her by the time she reached the nearest end of the band of rock cliffs.
His cell phone vibrated against his hip, startling him. It surprised him he could get service here. Startled him even more since he’d given the number to only one person.
He hurriedly answered it. “Hello?”
“Mr. Lancaster, I have the results of that urine sample you asked me to put a rush on,” the lab tech said.
* * *
IT HAD TAKEN Roz longer than she’d expected to reach the bottom of the band of rocks that ran across the mountain—and the old tree where she had often camped with her father.
The rain had stopped momentarily. She took a breather under the tree, adjusted her backpack and stretched. Her body ached. In her career, she did a lot of hiking while carrying all of her camera equipment so she was in pretty good shape.
But today she was trying to hurry. She was winded and tired and discouraged. What did she hope to find up here? If her father really had been pushed, the killer wouldn’t have left any evidence. And as for the bones her father had supposedly found, they could be anywhere. Especially if he’d had time to hide them.
She glanced up at the cloud-shrouded band of granite just above her. A hawk circled overhead and close by she could hear a blue jay’s call. Up here, she understood why her father loved the Cascades so. There are so few places man can be completely alone, he used to say. And few places that still held mysteries.
Oregon had once been a land of giant bison, mammoth, mastodon, wild horses, giant bear and ground sloth. Today the largest animals were elk. Unless, of course, Bigfoot was an animal—and not a form of human. There was no doubt in her mind there was another lifeform out there—and it was a humanoid.
She had loved to sit around the campfire and listen to her father’s stories. He often talked in awe about the day he’d photographed the creature in these woods.
“It had a horrid smell to it,” he’d said. “But what got to me was the look in her eyes. It was a female, I’m sure of that. She looked scared, but it was the pleading I saw there, as if she was saying, ‘Please, just leave me alone.’ I wish I’d never let anyone see those photographs.”
Roz thought about that now. If her father had found Bigfoot bones, would he tell anyone? Once there was proof that Bigfoot existed the next step was capturing a live one. Her father would want to prove his earlier photos hadn’t been faked. But he wouldn’t have wanted the Bigfoot hunted down and caged. Would her father hide the bones and protect the creatures in the end?
The hair lifted on the back of her neck. She straightened slowly and turned, positive someone was watching her. In the trees, a pine bough moved. She heard the rustle of leaves followed by the snap of a limb, then silence.
She let go of the breath she’d been holding. No one there, she told herself. Just forest sounds. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that not only wasn’t she alone, but someone was very close by, watching her, waiting.
But waiting for what? Her to find the bones? Or evidence that her father’s fall hadn’t been an accident?
* * *
FORD LOST Rozalyn’s tracks just before he reached the rimrocks. Earlier the rain had fallen in a steady drizzle, the low clouds offering little light. Even now that the rain had stopped, the air was damp, everything dripped and he could hear water cascading down the rocks off to his right not far from a huge old Douglas fir. The cliffs loomed ahead of him. Rozalyn would already be at the base of them. Might have already found a cave to explore.
He found himself running to catch up to her. As he topped a rise, he spotted her just yards away standing at the base of the rock cliff.
Something caught his eye higher up the cliff. A movement on a wide ledge directly above her. A dark figure clad in a raincoat, the hood up, bent over behind a large boulder. In the time it took for his heart to beat, Ford saw the boulder tumble off the edge of the cliff headed right for Rozalyn.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Charity stepped into the Timber Falls Courier newspaper office and closed the door behind her, bracing herself for a tongue-lashing.
Daisy Dennison looked up when she heard Charity enter. She set down the newspaper, pulled a tissue from the box on Charity’s desk and dried her tears as if ashamed to be caught crying.
Charity watched her, surprised how good the woman looked considering she’d been shot in the shoulder just two weeks before and had spent the past twenty-seven years a recluse in her mansion before that.
Daisy had gained some weight, had color again in her cheeks and had put some expensive highlights in her hair. She looked damned good, and Charity couldn’t help but wonder if getting rid of Wade wasn’t responsible for it more than anything else. Tears and all, Daisy looked happier than Charity had ever seen her.
Charity went to the small fridge next to the bathroom and opened the door. “Can I get you anything to drink?” This definitely called for a Diet Coke—if not something stronger.
Daisy suddenly seemed to realize that she was sitting in Charity’s chair and quickly got up. “No, thank you. I…” She took another wipe at her tears. “I just need to talk to you.”
“If you came here to defend Wade—”
“No,” Daisy said almost too quickly. “It’s…I’m worried. You don’t know Wade like I do. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
But Daisy did? “If you’re worried about my safety—”
“I’m worried about my own,” the older woman snapped. Her eyes filled with tears again. “I’m afraid he’s going to snap and…and kill me.”
Charity stared at her, speechless.
“He blames me for everything,” Daisy said, her voice breaking. “For the rumors about the baby…” Daisy looked away. “I think in his mind he believes that Angela would never have been kidnapped if I hadn’t…”
“Had an affair?” Charity suggested.
Daisy’s gaze swept back to hers, the eyes now cold and hard. “This town is good for nothing but rumors. The baby was Wade’s. There was never any doubt.”
“Are you sure about that?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, Charity regretted them.
Daisy reached for her purse, anger giving her cheeks high color as she glared at Charity. “I thought I could appeal to you as another woman and ask you not to do any more stories about this. Just let it be forgotten. Let us try to get on with our lives.”
She had to be kidding. “How is that possible, Daisy, when you still don’t know what really happened to Angela? What about justice? Surely you don’t think it’s been done.”
“Life isn’t always just,” Daisy said lifting her nose into the air. Except now everyone in town knew Daisy was no aristocrat. “Isn’t it enough that the man who took my daughter is burning in hell as we speak?”
“Is it enough for you?” Charity asked.
Something dark flickered in the woman’s gaze before she turned and left. She didn’t even bother to slam the door.
Charity stared after her, wondering what Daisy had really come to see her about. It wasn’t to ask her not to run any more stories. Daisy wasn’t that naive.
No, Daisy Dennison had another agenda and Charity wondered what it was.
* * *
ROZ FIRST HEARD THE tinkle of small pebble-size rocks trickling down the cliff. Then a rumble. If she hadn’t been standing under a rock face she might have thought it was thunder.
Rock slide!
She was too far from the trees to find
safety there. Her only hope was a small cave back under the cliff face. Her feet were already moving as the first boulder careened down from overhead, showering her in dirt and rock chips before it thudded to the ground just inches from her. Overhead, she heard more boulders break loose and rumble downward.
As she dove for the shallow cave, she was hit hard from behind, the air knocked out of her as she was thrown to the ground just inside the mouth of the small dark cavern and rolled back under the overhang, something heavy coming to rest on her.
The earth shook as rocks pounded the ground next to her in a shower of crashing thunder that drowned out everything else except the sound of heavy breathing next to her ear and the weight on top of her.
The rocks seemed to fall forever. Then silence.
“You’re crushing me,” she wheezed into the chilling silence that followed the rock slide. She would know that distinct male scent anywhere, as well as the now familiar contours of his body. “You just can’t stay off of me, can you?”
He rolled from her and she gasped for breath, flipping over to stare in shock at the pile of rocks in the spot where she’d been standing only moments before. She began to shake at the realization of just how close a call it had been and looked over at Ford.
He’d moved to a sitting position against the wall of the cliff. The look on his face surprised her, a combination of anger and—fear. “You are crazy,” he spat. “What does it take to get through that thick skull of yours that this is dangerous?”
She glared at him. “The only danger I’m in is from you.”
He shook his head in disgust. “I’m the one who keeps rescuing you.”
“Really? And why is that?” she demanded.
“I was just asking myself that very question. Obviously not to impress you, that’s for sure.” He cautiously crawled from under the overhang, then reached back to grab her hand and pull her out behind him. He dragged her away from the cliff before he spun around to face her.