The DiSantos’ house filled quickly with cops and FBI agents. By now it was close to midnight. Nigel’s picture had been posted online and airing on all news channels for hours. The license plate to his van and Carla and Bella’s information flashed on every computerized freeway screen in the state as an Amber Alert.
Brinna left Tony with Connie and found Sergeant Rodriguez in the front of the house conferring with Ben and Jack about the contents of the note.
“If it’s a riddle, it makes no sense,” Ben said.
“It’s a taunt.” Brinna blew out a breath. “I can’t sit around here. I have to be out and doing something.”
“You’re about end of watch.” Janet checked the time.
“He left the note for me.” Brinna smacked a doorjamb. “I have to find him and stop him once and for all.”
Janet put a hand on her shoulder. “He’s got a good hour head start. He could be anywhere.”
“But that’s why it’s important we get going right away. He needs to feel the heat,” Brinna insisted. “What kind of statement is he trying to make today? Is this tied to what happened twenty years ago or ten years ago?”
“Climb inside the head of a psychopath.” Chuck shook his head. “Let’s try to stick with the basics of his MO. He leaves kids in remote locations. And that van will take him almost anywhere. With all the mountains and deserts in Southern California, we’ve got thousands of miles to cover.”
“A needle in a haystack,” Jack observed, thumbs hooked in his gun belt. “But his picture is plastered everywhere. Someone is bound to see it and give us the tip we need before he gets the chance to lose himself somewhere.”
“But I can’t sit here and wait for it.” Brinna started for the driveway. “Come on, Jack.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’m picking up Hero. I plan on being ready if we get that call.”
“Brinna,” Janet protested.
“I know. I’m EOW. Don’t worry. I often use my free time to search for kids. Why should today be any different?”
* * *
They sped to Brinna’s house and quickly loaded Hero into the back of their police car. Once they were under way, Brinna drove to the freeway.
“You move like a woman with a plan. Do you have somewhere in mind?” Jack asked.
“Just a feeling, a hunch.” She glanced at him. “When we get the call, it will be best to be on or near the freeway. Wherever he is seen, I want to head that way.”
“I agree with you, but I wonder if you want to take a chance.” Jack tapped on the MDT screen with a thoughtful expression.
“What kind of chance?”
“I’ve been thinking. Pearce grew up in the San Bernardino Mountains. I remember Lopez telling me his parents were survivalists.” Jack tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. “And there are some pretty remote places up those mountains that would be perfect for him.”
Brinna chewed her lower lip. “It would make sense for him to head someplace he’s familiar with. But if we’re wrong, we could be miles in the wrong direction.”
“But if we’re right, we’re miles in the right direction.”
She glanced at her partner, and he smiled. She liked his smile now. And she liked the fact that, at this moment, he was a partner.
“Well, I’m up to take a risk. Maggie always tells me I’m a glass-half-empty person. Today I’ll be a glass-half-full type. San Bernardino, here we come.”
Brinna shot down the 405, hit the 22, and before long she, Jack, and Hero were on the 91 freeway, speeding down the carpool lane.
They’d just reached Corona when Brinna’s phone rang. She pulled it off her belt and flipped it open.
“Brinna.” Chuck’s voice greeted her. “Pearce was spotted in Fontana at a 7-Eleven. Local citizens recognized him, confronted him, and he ran.”
“Anybody see the girls?”
“No, sorry. But they saw him flee in a van. The girls would be easy to hide inside that thing.”
“Which direction? Fontana is east of us, off the 10 freeway.” Brinna sat up, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.
“He’s headed farther east. He could be shooting for the San Bernardino Mountains or Palm Springs. San Bernardino County sheriff has a helicopter up, hoping to get an eye on the van. CHP is also on alert.”
“Mountains or desert.” Brinna glanced at Jack and gave a thumbs-up signal. “Our bet is the mountains. We think he’s going to dump the girls up there somewhere,” she postulated.
“All right, I’ve got you heading to the mountains. I’ll inform the sheriff. There is a lot of ground to cover,” Chuck said.
“Jack and I are halfway there.” Brinna flipped the phone closed.
“We’ve got a problem.”
Brinna stared at Jack and noted the concerned frown on his face. “What?”
“Message just came over the computer. The watch commander has ordered us back to the station.”
Brinna inhaled and swallowed a curse. “We’re too close. Do you want to quit now?”
Jack shook his head. “I don’t want to quit, but when this is over, you know we’ll be in a lot of trouble.”
“I’m kinda used to being in trouble. Anything is worth finding Carla and Bella.” She reached across the car and shut the MDT off.
Before long, the 91 freeway turned into the 215 and Brinna’s phone rang again.
Brinna tossed it to Jack so she could concentrate on her driving. It was Chuck again. After a few minutes Jack closed the phone and filled Brinna in.
“Chuck says the sheriff’s chopper thought they had him. The van was headed up Highway 330; you know, the route that goes up to the mountain resorts?”
Brinna shook her head. “Santa Monica Mountains, Angeles Crest—those mountains I know. I’ve never spent any time in the San Bernardino Mountains.”
“I have. We came up here every summer when I was a kid. Trouble is, there are hundreds of campgrounds and thousands of nooks and crannies for him to hide. Chuck said the Chippies are stretched thin and don’t have a unit close yet. The sheriff has two units in Running Springs. One will watch the road toward Big Bear Lake, and the other will watch the road toward Lake Arrowhead.”
“Is that where this highway goes?” Brinna asked as she took the ramp for Highway 330, mountain resorts.
“Yep. It turns into Highway 18 in Running Springs, and—” Jack paused.
“What? What is it?”
“Well, it’s a long shot, but the place where Nigel was raised is called Green Valley Lake. It’s just above Running Springs, on the way to Big Bear.”
“But Running Springs was where he disappeared ten years ago. He said he’s going to disappear again. Maybe he’ll try what worked ten years ago,” Brinna said.
“Maybe. But Green Valley Lake would be a better place to hide. It’s off the beaten path. There’s a campground and several dirt roads, old forest-service firebreaks. One back road will take him all the way up to Fawnskin. It could be he’s trying to get off the main roads.”
“Seems like there’d still be a lot of people up there this time of year.”
“Yeah, but even with a lot of people there enjoying the summer, Pearce could lose himself. A couple of years ago a kid went missing there. Remains weren’t found for eleven months.”
Brinna shrugged, chewing on her lower lip as she worked to maintain control of the car while speeding up the hill as fast as possible. “I’ve never heard of Green Valley Lake. But it is usually a good bet that bad guys flee to the familiar.”
The phone rang again. Jack only got to speak to Chuck for a moment before they rounded a curve and lost the cell signal.
“All I got from Chuck was that the sheriff’s deputy picked up the van just outside of Running Springs heading toward Big Bear Lake.”
“Did they stop him or are they following?”
“I don’t know; he got cut off.”
Brinna flipped on lights and sirens, determined to be there when Nigel Pea
rce was stopped.
64
BRINNA AND JACK hit the small town of Running Springs twenty minutes later. Her phone rang immediately.
“Service again, great,” Jack said as he flipped the phone open.
Jack gave Chuck an update on their location and, when he hung up, filled Brinna in on what Chuck had to say. “Chuck says the sheriff lost the van a few miles from here in a place called Arrowbear Lake.”
“How do you lose a van on a two-lane road?”
“Apparently a head-on collision occurred between two SUVs as the van and the sheriff’s unit drove past. Cops are stretched thin up here. The sheriff had to stop and render aid. No sign of the van between Arrowbear and Big Bear.”
He’d just finished speaking as they rolled by the accident scene. Brinna slowed. There were two ambulances, and Brinna could see the deputy had his hands full. He saw her and pointed north. As soon as she was able to speed up again, she did.
“The turnoff for Green Valley Lake is coming up,” Jack said. “There are sheriffs behind us and sheriffs in Big Bear. You want to take the gamble and head up to the lake campground?”
She tilted her head in the affirmative. “Yeah. My instincts are humming right now. It makes sense for him to flee to an area he knows. He’s going to try to fade out of the public eye as soon as he can.”
Brinna made the turn to Green Valley Lake. The sign said four miles. The road wound through the forest and had Brinna leaning into curves and Hero sliding back and forth in the backseat.
“The campground is at the end of the road, so keep going,” Jack said when they reached the small town of Green Valley Lake.
“What if he takes the back road to—what did you say it was called? Fawnskin?” Brinna asked as she sped past the lake and tiny hamlet, her lights flashing, but she killed the siren. Traffic was minimal to nonexistent, but in the predawn darkness the small lake was lined with fishermen.
“That should answer your question.” Jack pointed and Brinna slowed. A yellow forest-service gate was pulled shut across the road to Fawnskin. A sign said the road was closed due to storm damage. “If he came this way, the last stop is the campground.”
In minutes they were at the end of the road and the campground host was visible.
“Stop at the host site. I’ll find out if Pearce has pulled in here.” Jack unsnapped his seat belt and jumped out of the car as soon as Brinna stopped.
As Jack talked to the camp host, Brinna turned to pump Hero up. “Hero, this is the biggest search of your life. We have to find Carla and Bella. We have to.”
Hero whimpered, tail wagging, ready to be out of the car and searching.
“He’s here.” Jack slammed the door. “Fifteen, twenty minutes ago, number sixteen, last campsite on the right.” He picked up the radio to give dispatch the information. The dispatcher would contact all the agencies that needed to be advised of the developments.
Brinna shut down the light bar and headed up the narrow campground road slowly.
“How do you want to handle this?” Brinna asked. “He’s cornered. I don’t want a hostage situation, but then again, we don’t have time to wait for the troops.”
“He’s held hostages in the past. And he already knows he’s been spotted.” Jack rubbed his chin. “I say confrontation is the best thing, hoping and praying we catch him off guard.”
“Me too.” Brinna made the last right, and the van came into view. It appeared to be deserted. She stopped the unit, but her stomach felt like it was still doing the curves. “I’ll wait to get Hero out of the car.”
Jack nodded. They both unsnapped their guns and approached the van. Brinna took the left side and Jack the right. Jack tried the door, found it unlocked, and jerked it open, quickly illuminating the interior with his flashlight.
“Empty.” He turned to Brinna. She blew out a breath and shook her head. Jack punched in Chuck’s number and made sure their exact location and situation would be broadcast to assisting units.
“Chuck says he’ll be here in thirty minutes and wants us to wait.”
Brinna frowned. “No way. I’ll run this creep into the ground if I have to.” She stuck her head inside the open door of the van and searched for any sign of the girls. Other than a few stuffed animals on the floor, there was no indication they’d been in the vehicle.
“How far could he get with two small girls in tow?” Brinna asked. She surveyed the forest surrounding the campground. The sky was pink in the east as the sun brightened it over hills thick with tall pines and cedars.
“Depends on how familiar he is with the area. He didn’t hesitate coming up here, knew right where he wanted to be. I’ll bet he has a particular hiding spot in mind.”
“You’re right,” Brinna agreed as a wave of helplessness flowed over her.
Where are Carla and Bella?
65
NIGEL HAD NEARLY screamed when the lady at the convenience store pointed at him and said, “It’s him!” He’d run away from the place as if someone had lit his pants on fire, dropping groceries as he fled. The stupid woman followed, all the while jabbering on her cell phone. He’d been tempted to run her over but didn’t want to damage his van.
After he got back on the freeway and saw the chopper, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that it was after him. Except for that day ten years ago, Nigel had never felt cornered in his entire career. He hated being rushed. It was all wrong.
Somehow, someway, they’d figured him out.
At first he cursed and pounded the steering wheel. But after he eluded the helicopter and then avoided a couple sheriffs’ units, a serene feeling of invincibility settled over him. No one’s career lasts forever, he told himself. He glanced back at the twins, tied up on the floor of the van, and euphoria coursed through his veins like a strong drink.
I can go out with a Fourth of July–type finale, he thought. I’ve already made more bold moves than anyone else, I bet. My last caper will be the pièce de résistance—something that will make all the talk shows and the major newspapers.
A tiny spike of fear crowded in as he left the van to check in with the camp host. He debated just driving by. It was still mostly dark out. But their lights were on, and passing them by might arouse more suspicion. He relaxed when he saw that they had neither TV nor computer. They knew nothing about him and the twins. He filled out a registration card with false information and headed for the campsite.
Now he was home free. This was his backyard. He’d mapped these forests in his head when he was a kid, and those maps were still vivid in his mind. No one will ever find me or the girls, he thought, smiling for the first time since he fled the convenience store.
When he parked, he untied the twins and calmed their crying by telling them he was taking them to their grandpa. They just had to be quiet as mice, he said, or they’d never make it to him. Along with his camera bag, he filled a small backpack with food, extra clothing, and money. Nigel knew he’d never be back to the van. The most important thing to do right now was get lost in the forest, finish his business with the twins, and disappear.
He grabbed the little girls, one of their hands in each of his, and they headed into the dark fringe of pine trees.
66
WITH HERO at her side and some of the twins’ clothing that Tony had given her, Brinna stood by the van and took a deep breath. There was an early morning chill in the air, and she hoped the girls were warm. She blinked away the image that flashed in her mind of Pearce with the twins.
“Are you back on good terms with that God of yours?” she asked Jack.
“I think so. I’ve made my peace.”
There was conviction in Jack’s voice, she thought, and she took note of the change in the man. The weak, creepy guy of last week was now all cop and all confident. The kind of guy she’d want to work with. A guy she could trust to cover her back.
“Good. Pray. If I never find another kid my entire career, I have to find these two. Alive.” Her throat thicken
ed and she paused. “They’re like members of my own family.”
Her father came to mind, and suddenly Brinna knew how he must have felt twenty years ago. Maybe she couldn’t excuse the drinking, but after all this time, she knew why he drank. The situation she now found herself in illustrated in painful detail what her father had dealt with.
She bent to one knee and held the clothing under Hero’s nose. “Find, Hero; find.” Once the leash was unclipped, Hero took off into the forest, testing the air with his sensitive nose.
The sunlight filtering through the trees brightened the trail as Jack and Brinna charged after him. The path was a well-worn firebreak that followed an old logging road.
“He’s got at least a twenty- or thirty-minute head start,” Jack noted.
“Yeah, but he’s also got two little girls to drag or carry, and he started in the dark. I know he hasn’t killed them. I know it.” Brinna spit the words out, wanting to convince herself that being cornered would not change Nigel’s MO drastically. She tried not to think of Carla and Bella being dragged along against their wills, probably cold and most certainly frightened.
Hero eventually came to an unmarked trail that cut off the firebreak and wound upward through the trees. It was a narrow trail, well worn by hikers and coated in a layer of pine needles with pinecones scattered here and there. Because of a fire a few years ago, the forest on this hillside was a sparse mixture of tall old pines, older spread-out oaks, charred trunks, and an occasional cedar. Nothing here caused Hero to pause; he just kept his nose to the air on his way up the trail.
“Pearce isn’t even trying to cover his tracks,” Brinna noted.
“Why would he? He evaded a helicopter and a sheriff’s unit. By now he’s probably feeling pretty cocky.”
Brinna grunted as she forged up the trail. After about twenty minutes of climbing, the trail leveled off, and they hiked across a ridge. Though the morning was still chilly, Brinna wiped sweat from her brow. The trail was visible ahead, eventually winding up and disappearing into a thicker forest, one that the fire had skipped.
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