by Danni Roan
David gripped the grab bar over the glove box, his knuckles going white as the woman behind the wheel whipped the Jeep up a dusty mountain trail. She didn’t seem to believe in doing anything slow, and they jumped, jostled, and jolted over ruts. Still, he couldn’t help but smile. He had been over these roads many times himself, and fast or slow, they never got any better. Soon they were winding in among the tall pines, dipping into a low valley that led toward the stream that raced to the falls far below.
At one time an earthen dam held back the water that rushed toward the hundred foot drop, but it had burst, in a tragic torrent, taking far too many good lives with it. Now the stream ran, uninhibited to the valley far below.
“We’re almost to the staging area,” Susan shouted over the rattle and clatter of the Jeep. “I have my back pack and water with me.” She jerked her thumb behind her, and he glanced back to see a bright orange backpack. He should have thought to grab his own before leaving the fancy house.
In a matter of minutes Susan swung the Jeep into a dirt patch under the pines and hopped out into the dim shade of the big trees.
“Aren’t you worried about someone stealing something?” David nodded toward the open roof as he pried his fingers from the grab bar.
“There isn’t anything in it to take once I grab my pack. You can lock your journal in the glove box if you want though.” Susan’s eyes scanned the leather book that David clutched to his chest. She wanted to see every page in that tiny tome.
“I’ll keep it with me,” the man said, stuffing it into the front of his shirt and making Susan’s fingers itch to open the journal.
Grabbing her pack to occupy her hands, Susan Holmes swung the straps over her shoulders and turned toward a dim trail leading into a dark valley. She had been here so many times before that she probably could have made the trek with her eyes closed.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been here,” David gazed around him at the canopy above. “It’s miles from my grandfather’s cabin.”
“Cabin?” Susan stopped so suddenly that the David walked into her scrabbling to keep from tripping down the hill. His right arm shot out, instinctively grasping the young woman to him, but her forward momentum and his inattention tipped them over the crest, like a bowling ball dropping into the gutter.
“Oh!” Susan cried out, feeling herself losing her grip on terra firma as she began to fall. The world spun, the ground rose up, her whole body twisted, landing with a soft woof onto the young man, who tried to tuck her into his chest as they tumbled down the small rise landing with a soggy plop in a truculent tributary.
“I am so sorry,” David opened his eyes, water gushing up the back of his neck, gasping as startled blue eyes met his. The cold water of the mountain stream seeped into his back, as warmth trickled into David’s soul from where the young woman rested on his chest. Susan Holmes had landed on his torso, pushing him into the rocky bottom of the shallow stream. She was so close, her face only inches from his as a slow smile broke across her features.
A contagious laugh broke from the young woman’s lips, splashing over David like the icy water racing under his back and bubbling in his chest until it gushed from his mouth like a fountain.
“You’re back is soaked,” Susan managed as she finally broke the hypnotic gaze that held her, pushing off until her feet splashed down on the pebbles, her sturdy hiking boots gripping the slick stream bed. Offering her hand, Susan felt his strong grip in hers, and she anchored her heels pulling as he came to his feet.
“Are you hurt?” David’s voice purred. “You didn’t hit anything did you?” He lifted his eyes to the small hill they had tumbled down hoping there had been no major protuberances on the trail.
Susan’s soft laugh returned, and she shook her head, noting the twigs and leaves sticking out of his soft locks. “I’m good,” she grinned. “Do you want to go back and do this on a day when you aren’t dripping wet?”
“No,” David felt the blush rise up his cheeks. “I’d just as soon get this done.”
Splashing out of the ankle deep water Susan headed for the opposite shore, gesturing for David to follow. “Maybe you’ll dry off a little before we have to get back in the Jeep,” her voice was full of unuttered laughter.
“If not, I guess I’ll air dry on the trip home.”
Another mile and the unlikely pair dropped into another valley, this one spotted with young growth and filled with lush grass, watered by the constant trickle that spread across the low land.
“This is it,” Susan spoke. “This is where Gram found Israel.” Susan rested her hands on her hips, stretching as she tried to dispel the feeling of Mr. Watkins’s hands on her sides.
“Right here?”
“Yep. She and her old friend Gary were following this trail and found the horses knee deep in grass right here.” Susan lifted a hand pointing into the lush growth that filled the valley.
David turned in a slow circle his light weight pants already beginning to dry in the warm Georgia sun. “There’s nothing here?”
“What did you expect?” Susan rolled her eyes. “I’ve been over every inch of this spot and have never found a single clue. I can’t even begin to imagine where Gram would have seen that flash of color she mentioned today.” Susan scowled, wondering why her grandmother had never told her that tidbit before.
“We should set out a grid and track everything on it,” again David turned in place, pulling the journal from under his shirt and flipping to a blank page. Although his back was soaked through, the water hadn’t swamped his chest where the precious book had been stashed. In a matter of seconds, he had sketched out the small bowl shaped valley, marking off any big trees, and unusual landmarks as guides then created a grid.
“I’ll start here,” he pointed at the sketch. “You start over there, and we’ll work our way toward each other.”
Susan glared at the man, words begging to be freed from her pursed lips at his interference, but something deep inside told her that this was a good plan. “Why don’t I take this side,” she sassed. “You go over there.”
“If that’s what you want,” David met her hard gaze, “I just figured since I’m already wet you would want me to traipse through the swampy bits.”
Susan felt a soft blush creep up her neck as she turned to the area he had indicated on the make shift map. The grass there was reedy, wide, and tall indicating that the ground was damp. Without another word, she moved forward making her way to her assigned spot.
“Bossy,” the young woman mumbled stopping to look down at the base of a big tree and marking her steps in her mind. It irked her that she had brought his man to the place she had visited so often only to have him think out a practical plan for searching every square inch of the glade.
“Anything?” David shouted from the opposite side of the field.
“What do you think we’re going to find after all these years?” Susan knew her voice was sharp, but she didn’t like this development one bit.
“I don’t know,” the young man’s voice echoed in the clearing, “a piece of metal, glass, an old bridle.”
Susan turned glaring at the man. “A bridle, why would there be a bridle?” She placed her hands on her hips giving the man her most scathing stare.
“Your grandmother said the horse had no halters, or anything. Maybe they were tied up and lost them or something.”
This time Susan did roll her eyes, but she quickly dropped them to where here feet were making soft tracks in the earth.
For the next hour the two people traipsed back and forth across the plot, pausing to compare what they saw and jot notes in the journal.
“We haven’t found anything,” Susan grumbled. “This is a complete waste of time.” Her shoes were soggy, her temper rising, and her irritation with the man was a pebble in her shoe.
David looked down at his notebook, as shadows began to fall across his face, setting his high cheekbones and square jaw in contrast. “One more place,” he mused
. “If you’ll take that square,” he pointed at a block of lines on the page. “I’ll take this one.”
Susan stomped off toward a large old oak tree, mumbling about wasted time under her breath. Walking around the base of the tree, kicking her feet, Susan yelped as her toe connected with a root. “Ouch!” she shouted, hopping on one foot.
“Are you okay?” David trotted over to where Susan was dancing around on one foot. “What happened?”
Susan stopped, still balancing on one foot. “What’s that?” She dropped to her knees. “Look!”
David squatted next to her, his eyes inquisitive. “What is it?”
Susan dropped her hand to the soft dirt near the root base flicking away small rocks and earth to expose a sliver of red. “I think it’s a tail light,” she whispered lifting one shard to the sun.
“It’s old whatever it is. This is shatter proof glass; it isn’t plastic like we have now.”
“What do you think it came from? I don’t even see any roads around here.”
“Things have changed up here. They used to cut timber, and there were probably old logging roads that have grown over now.” David smiled meeting the young woman’s gaze. “Maybe this is the clue we’ve been looking for.”
“What are we going to do with it? Is there some way to find out what it came from?”
“I really don’t know.” David opened his journal making a careful note. “I’ll check around and do some research.”
Susan picked up a stick and poked around in the dirt trying to find more pieces, collecting what they could and trying to piece them together.
“It does look like it was part of a tail light,” David nodded. “Can I keep this?” He turned offering a smile. “I have a friend who works in a garage who might be able to help.”
Reluctantly Susan nodded. The obnoxious Mr. Watkins had made his point and maybe, just maybe, they were one-step closer to solving the mystery.
Chapter 3
As iron sharpens iron,
so one person sharpens another.
Proverbs 27:17
The sun was painting the horizon with the last rays of a dying day as Susan pulled up to the big house in her blue Wrangler.
David, though chilled, had dried out nicely and was anxious to get to his mechanic friend with their new clues. He had a feeling that this shattered tail light was important, but he couldn’t explain why.
“I’ll give you a call tomorrow,” he promised, hurrying around the side of the house to his old truck. “I know this is important.” He patted the cargo pocket of his muddy pants, waving as he hurried away.
Susan watched the man jump into his truck and roar out onto the road. He seemed so confident about the find that she couldn’t help but hope he was right. Perhaps this was the break they had both been waiting for, and it would lead to the answers no one had ever been able to provide, or it could lead to nothing.
Turning she walked into the house a brief smile gracing her pretty face. She would wait to tell Gram until they had something more to share, but she knew this was the break she needed to put everything into place.
David patted the shards in his pocket, smiling at the solid clue the day had brought. It had been so long since anything had seemed to fall into place or point in a specific direction that he could hardly believe their luck.
A bright grin spread across his face, as he shifted gears rolling into the intersection as hope bubbled in his chest.
The sound of tearing metal, and the impact of a heavy vehicle slamming into the front of the old pick up rattled the young man to the bones, his head bounced off of the T section behind the door and the world went black.
The flash of colored lights flickered into David’s brain, and then ebbed to darkness once more. The sound of sirens and rending steel, rocked through his brain, before blissful silence swamped him once more. He was floating, somewhere between reality and dream. His vision flickered like the flashing lights, light-dark, light-dark. Red swam before his eyes, his brain filling with images and faces he couldn’t place as a final wave of blackness swept over him dragging him into an ocean of unconsciousness.
David opened his eyes into light. A soft bright glow filling the space around him and his head spun, turning his stomach over in its wake. A soft beeping sound behind him pulled him from the darkness that threatened to drag him down once more, and he clung to it as a lifeline.
“Mr. Watkins?” A sharp voice punched into his brain. “Mr. Watkins can you open your eyes?”
“Hm?” David pushed his lids open again as a stark white room came into focus.
“You need to wake up Mr. Watkins.”
“David, call me David.”
“Can you look into the light,” the voice echoed again.
David squinted as a bright light stabbed behind his eyes. “What happened?”
“You were involved in a hit and run,” This time David was able to follow the voice back to a woman in blue scrubs who was peering at him intently.
“I hit someone?”
“No, based on the witnesses someone ran the light on Big A and took out the whole front of your truck. You’re lucky to be alive.”
David lifted a hand, his whole body crying out in pain. He felt like he had been hit by a Mack truck and perhaps he had been.
“My truck, how bad is it?”
“I wouldn’t know, but as soon as you’re up to it the police would like to talk to you.”
“Fine,” the pounding behind his eyes was growing stronger, and David leaned back against the upright bed closing his eyes against the pain. “I’ll talk to them.”
“Not in your condition,” the woman’s voice echoed again. “I’ll tell them to come back later.”
The soft squeak of rubber soled shoes on tile flooring indicated that the doctor was walking away, but David was fading back into the welcome embrace of sleep. The soft glow of the room lights, flickered into darkness, but the red glare of a police car still reflected in his mind’s eye.
He tried to focus, tried to remember what had happened. He had pulled out as the light turned green, never seeing what hit him. The residual flicker of emergency vehicles bright red glare seemed to have been imprinted on his eye lids, and only the welcome embrace of sleep washed it way.
David’s eyes shot open again, and he sat upright, fighting the growing nausea in his stomach as he looked for his clothes. Where was the clue? Where were the few precious shards he had procured on the mountain only hours ago?
Head still spinning he struggled to focus until he found the call button, pressing it as his head fell back against the bed.
“You should be asleep,” a nurse hurried into the room. “I know doctor Aims gave you something for the pain.”
“Where are my clothes?” David choked, “I need my pants.”
“You are in no condition to go anywhere young man,” the portly woman in the pink and black striped scrubs chided.
“I just need to see them,” David said, his words slurring. “Please!”
“Alright,” the nurse responded. “But they are very dirty.” She handed the mud splattered chinos into his hand and his fingers crushed into the pocket.
“Thank you he said,” as the world turned to black once more. He needed to get this clue somewhere and soon, but first he would close his eyes against the pounding in his head. When the staccato drum beat ended, he would remember what to do.
Chapter 4
A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.
Proverbs 17:17
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Susan pressed her phone to her ear as she carried coffee and muffins into the old house. “Why are you contacting me about a hit and run?”
“We understand you were the last one to see Mr. Watkins before the accident, and we wanted to touch base and see if you can shed any light on the situation.”
The man’s voice on the other end of the line drawled, as Susan clamped the phone between shoulder and ear, o
pening the door of her family’s home.
“Are you saying that Mr. Watkins hit another car or something,” Susan was struggling to understand why the police were calling her about the man’s accident.
“No,” the man’s voice was short. “Do you know if Mr. Watkins had been drinking?”
“No, he most certainly was not. He left here, and if the time you told me is right, he hadn’t been gone more than a few minutes before he was in an accident.” A cold shiver raced down her back as she considered the situation. Something wasn’t right here. “Did you find a journal in his truck?”