She made up her mind never to tell anyone what she had seen. If the person who owned the cabin knew she had seen those, they might do things to her, too.
She started down the dirt road only to stop. What if the owner of the cabin happens to drive back tonight? If she’s walking here, they’re sure to see her. Mason decided to stay off the dirt road but keep it in sight and hope that if someone did drive by, she would be hidden in the woods. The road was her only hope: it had to go somewhere.
Fortunately the trees in the forest were tall enough she could walk without wrecking Grandpa’s muskie rod and right now only one thing mattered: She had to get out of here. Fast.
As she walked along, she remembered the pull of that huge fish. Wow, if she got out of here okay and not too many people were mad at her, wouldn’t it be fun to go after Buster again? But no more fishing from a kayak for her. She’d learned that lesson. At least in a rowboat you can stand up without falling in.
And with that thought Mason realized she had lost sight of the dirt road.
Chapter Nineteen
Opening the back door and walking into the mudroom of Osborne’s home, Lew heard an odd sound. She paused for a moment trying to figure out what it was she was hearing. Of course, and I’m not surprised, she thought. I would be crying, too.
Seated at the kitchen table with his head pressed face-down on his arms, which were crossed beneath him, Doc’s shoulders were shaking, the strange sounds coming straight from his heart. Lew laid a hand softly on one shoulder as she spoke in a quiet tone. “Nothing new yet, Doc. I’ve got Todd and Roger out searching and the sheriff has pulled in six of his deputies.”
Wiping at his face, Osborne shoved his chair back from the table. “I’ve got to call Erin.” His voice cracked. “She needs to know this much. I can’t call later when it’s all over and I have to tell her the worst—”
“We don’t know the worst, Doc. There may not be a ‘worst.’” Lew pulled out the chair beside him and laid her arm across his shoulders as she sat down. “I think you should wait a while. Remember, Mason is a strong swimmer.”
“Yes, but they found the kayak.” He choked on his words. “No sign of her anywhere. Oh, God, why did I let her go? She’s a little girl. So much she doesn’t know.”
“Yes, yes,” said Lew, patting his shoulder, “but there’s a lot she does know and that’s why we’re going to wait before you terrify her mother.”
“Lewellyn, it is one o’clock in the morning and there is no sign whatsoever of an eleven-year-old child. What the hell can have happened?”
“Right.” Lew was determined to calm his anguish. No matter what happened to Osborne’s granddaughter she felt that alerting Erin and Mark in the middle of the night would be a serious mistake. The devastated parents would be sure to jump in their car and speed north, putting themselves at risk of a serious car accident.
“So here’s what we’re doing right now, Doc. First, the dive rescue team is scouring the entire area where Ray and the boys found the kayak. Meanwhile, my officers and the sheriff’s deputies have made a grid ten miles square and they are driving every passable road because we think she’s lost in the woods somewhere. They have the K-nine search dogs with them, too.”
“I don’t know why the hell you think she’s in the woods somewhere,” Osborne challenged. “We know she fell out of the goddamn boat, for Chrissake.”
“Okay, you keep thinking that. But I disagree and I’ll tell you why—”
Lew’s cell phone rang just then. “Yes, Dani, any news from the nine-one-one dispatch centers? Oh, okay. Yes, keep trying. Stay in touch with all six centers. I know some are a ways away but on the chance that a cell tower might route the call . . . Good, thank you.”
“No calls, right?” asked Osborne.
“Correct, but I expected that. Doc, two things are likely. Either she dropped her cell phone in the water so it’s ruined and she can’t call. Or wherever she is, there is no cell service—and she can’t call. You know yourself that once you’re a couple miles out of town, cell service is spotty to say the least.
“And even if Mason does call nine-one-one it’s likely she won’t be able to tell them where she is because she herself won’t know. The poor kid is lost. And the nine-one-one dispatchers have no way to pinpoint the exact location where a call is coming from. All they know is the cell tower through which the call was routed. Doc, I’m sorry but technology is great until it isn’t.”
“I wish you hadn’t told me that,” said Osborne, his eyes dark.
“Going back to what I was saying before Dani called, the reason I think she has to be lost somewhere on land is because that kid is spunky. I’ve watched her. She’s an excellent swimmer, she’s strong, she’s a runner, and she grew up in Loon Lake. She’s been in the outdoors forever.
“Mason is going to find her way. I mean, if I were her I would and I got lost a couple times when I was a kid.”
Osborne mustered a slight smile. “I did, too, now that I think about it.” He took a deep breath. “You are giving me hope.”
“And you did hear that Ray demanded that the fishing tournament be suspended until she’s found. He’s rounded up all the participating boats and has them out searching every bay and tributary connecting to Loon Lake. The sheriff’s department outfitted all those boats with floodlights, too. If Mason is anywhere near water, trust me, they’ll find her.”
Osborne nodded and his shoulders seemed to relax ever so slightly.
“Mind if I say something off the subject for a moment, Doc?”
“Go right ahead, though I doubt it’ll do any good.”
“I got a call on my cell about four hours ago. Nina Krezminski.”
“Oh, jeez. What the hell did she want?”
“Nina seems to think she’s solved our double homicide . . .”
“You must be kidding.”
“Oh no,” said Lew, trying for a lighter tone in her voice, “she alleges she heard Fred Smith tell Joyce that Chet told him he was planning to fire Joyce.
“Nina forgot about that until this evening. I called Joyce to ask her if she had spoken with Nina recently and Joyce said that because the club is still under restrictions as a crime scene, she refused to let Nina enter to take any personal belongings.
“This is the second time she has tried that and, according to Joyce, Nina got pretty upset. So I’ll put Nina’s comments in my reports, but I have to say I am prejudiced. The way I see it, Joyce Harmon has everything to lose with what happened. I’m sure the closing of Buddy’s Place reduces her pay, for starters. That poor woman is desperate to keep her job and she needs every penny she makes. Good try, Nina.”
Lew could see Osborne wasn’t listening.
“You know, Lew,” he said with a distant look in his eye, “after we got that call from Ray and while you were working with the sheriff’s department, I walked down to the dock just after the sun had set tonight. There was a glorious haze of violet and gold and all I could think was that a God who makes a sky like that does not let children die.” He wept.
Lew ducked her head so he wouldn’t see the worry in her eyes. After several minutes, she managed to say, “Come on, Doc, why don’t you move to the living room and lie down on the couch? See if you can close your eyes. You look exhausted. I’ll stay awake in case we get a call.”
“Lewellyn, you have just asked me to do the impossible. I am not moving from this room.”
“Then I’ll make us both a fresh pot of coffee.” Lew got up from the kitchen table.
“That sounds good,” said Osborne, the tears flowing down his cheeks. She reached over to pull him into her arms.
His silent shuddering reminded her of that night five years ago when she was called to identify the body of her dead son. Dear God, she prayed, please don’t let that happen again.
Chapter Twenty
Like he did every morning except Sunday, Herm Jensen leapt out of bed at five A.M. He wanted to be headed to town by five thir
ty. In the two years since his wife died, he had come to relish these mornings: early coffee at McDonald’s with men he had known for years. It was the best way ever to start his day.
Only those guys could make him laugh so hard he worried he might die in the midst of a guffaw. But what a way to go that would be. Half his buddies were widowers like himself; the other half insisted they had wives they dreaded facing so early in the morning. At least that’s what they alleged. Good guys, every one.
Herm whistled as he finished dressing, fed his golden, and hopped into the front seat of his late wife’s Highlander. Still whistling, he sped down the driveway from the little ranch home that he and Mildred had built for their retirement years.
Like he did every morning as he drove past the hedge of blooming mock orange bushes that Mildred had loved, he questioned the wisdom of living alone so far out in the country. But he loved driving past the open potato fields that surrounded his house and the spring-fed streams carrying tannins from wetlands crammed with tamarack and tag alder that meandered along the narrow roadway before spilling into big old Loon Lake.
As he turned right onto the county road, he saw a young girl in shorts and a T-shirt, a backpack slung over one shoulder, walking along the shoulder with her back to him. She was carrying a good-sized fishing rod. That’s odd. To the best of his knowledge there are no fish in the creek near the road.
Maybe she’s waiting for the school bus? But it’s summer and the kids are out of school. Hmm. He made sure to take a good look as he passed her.
Whoa, wait a minute. Herm threw his car into reverse, backed up, and lowered the passenger side window. “Miss Mason,” he called out, “what the goldarnheck are you doing out here this time of day?”
An expression of relief mixed with happiness flooded across the girl’s face. She ran up to the car. “Uncle Herm? Ohmygosh, I’m so lost. Would you mind? I mean, can you give me a ride back to Grandpa’s, please?”
“What do you mean you’re lost?” he asked as she opened the rear door to lay her fishing rod at a careful angle across the dog bed in the back seat. “Hey, isn’t that your grandpa’s muskie rod with that precious Garcia Ambassadeur Reel of his? I keep trying to buy that dang thing off of him. What the heck are you doing with that, young lady?”
Concern struck him and he asked, “Is your grandfather okay? Has something happened? What on earth?”
“Gramps is fine. Just me. I’m the one in trouble,” said Mason.
Climbing into the front seat beside the old man, she started to tell her story.
Mason knew Herman Jensen well. He was one of the two widowed men whom her grandfather had brought to their house on cold Saturday nights for her mom’s chili dinners a couple of times. He was very nice. And he liked to tease, calling her “Miss Mason.” She usually made a face when he did that but not this morning.
After stumbling through the woods, wading through two rock-strewn brooks, and managing to cross a potato field without spraining an ankle, she was happy to be called anything.
“Yeah, so I was fishing on Loon Lake not far from Grandpa’s house when I hooked this big muskie and it pulled the kayak way, away from the lake—”
“Stop, honey,” said Herm, patting her knee. “When did this happen exactly?”
“Last night. About seven fifteen, I think.”
“You’ve not been home since?”
“No but I’m staying at Grandpa’s while Mom and Dad and Cody are in Madison.”
“So your grandfather doesn’t know where you are?”
As he asked the question he vaguely remembered waking to the sound of sirens during the night. Searchers he would bet. Doc Osborne must be frantic.
“Huh-uh. I’ve been trying to call him on my cell phone but it keeps saying No Service.” As she spoke, Mason reached into the backpack at her feet and pulled out a cell phone. “I’ll try now though . . . nope, still won’t work. It’s charged. I can see it’s charged. Wouldn’t you think it would work if it’s charged, Uncle Herm?”
“Golly,” said Herm, “I wish you had found my house. I have a landline.” For one second he thought about turning around but decided against that. “Okay, we need to get in touch with your grandfather ASAP. So two more miles down the road here and we’ll have cell service at that new Kwik Trip they just built by Highway Seventeen. We’ll stop there and call. Save your story for when we get you to your grandpa, kid.”
“Yeah and I need to be at work pretty soon, too.”
“We’ll worry about that later.” Herm could not resist a silent chuckle. What was this girl thinking?
He swung into the gas station parking area. Mason had her cell phone out and was delighted to hear her call going through.
“Grandpa?”
“Mason?” Osborne jumped to his feet, waving at Lew who had fallen asleep in the armchair across from him. “Where? What?”
“I’m okay. I got lost but Uncle Herm picked me up—”
Herm took the phone from Mason. “Doc, she’s fine. We’re on our way to your place. Be there in about ten minutes. Looks like she spent the night in the woods out by my place. Guess we better make her an Eagle Scout, huh?”
• • •
Mike greeted them with joyful barking as Herm pulled into Osborne’s driveway and parked next to the Loon Lake Police cruiser. Osborne opened the back door and ran toward Mason.
“Mason, are you okay? I’ve been worried sick and Chief Ferris, the sheriff’s department—everyone’s been searching for you.”
“I know, I was so afraid, Grandpa.” Mason wrapped her arms around Osborne’s chest and burst into tears. “But I found Uncle Herm so I’m okay now.”
“Oh, thank God you’re all right.” He held her away from him, looking her up and down as if to be sure she hadn’t lost an arm or a leg. “I’ll bet you’re hungry, huh? Lew’s got bacon and eggs going. Raisin toast, too. Herm, come on in. We are celebrating.”
“Hey, you. For the record? You are not allowed to do that ever again, you hear? I’m the Loon Lake chief of police and I demand—” Before Lew could finish, Mason gave her a huge hug and a grin. “Watch the apron,” said Lew, pretending to gasp for air.
With a quick call to her dispatcher, she had been able to get out the news that Mason was safe. “You have no idea, Mason, how many people have been up all night searching for you. Your grandpa hasn’t slept. I haven’t slept. I don’t think Ray and the entire tournament crowd has gotten any sleep.”
“I need to call Ray right now,” said Mason jumping up from her chair. “He needs me to work this morning.”
“You go ahead and call. But you might have to wake him up,” said Osborne, hiding a smile. He had been able to reach Ray and Erin right after hearing Mason’s voice. Erin, who had known nothing until he woke her up, was insisting on renting a car and driving north as soon as possible that morning.
“Ray?” Mason had him on the phone. “I’m sorry I’m late but I’ll be right over . . .” She listened, then said, “Oh, okay. I’ll be over then and sorry about last night. Did you catch any fish, ’cause I got a big one but she got away. Sure, tell you all about it later.”
She sat back down at the kitchen table, happy. “I don’t work until tonight,” she said.
“I thought that might be the case,” said her grandfather. “Now tell us about this big fish and just exactly what happened.”
When she had finished describing the fish—how it rolled and shook, how it charged at her then ran deep, how it bit through the fishing line and left her stranded in the creek—Osborne, Lew, and Herm sat silent.
“Tell us again what that muskie looked like,” said Osborne.
“I saw this fat back and it was as long as the paddle I was using.”
“You hooked Buster,” said Osborne. “You hooked our superfish, girl. To pull you along in that kayak like she did, she had to weigh forty-five, maybe fifty pounds.”
“No, Grandpa, Buster hooked me. She ate your lure, too. After Ray pays me, I
have to buy you a new one.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Osborne. “Right now you eat hearty and then I want you to take a nice long nap.”
“Speaking of which,” said Lew, “I need the same, so if you will excuse me, I’m going to head over to my place and get some rest. But, first, I have a couple questions, Mason. That kayak you were in. Sounds like it was not real stable. I’m going to check with Ray and try it out myself. We don’t need another extreme fishing experience like the one you just had.”
“It paddles great,” said Mason. “Only problem was when I got up on my knees to try to reel in. That’s when it got real shaky. I had to sit down or fall out.”
“Hmm. Maybe kayaks like that aren’t made for fishing muskies. My other question is about that cabin you found. Was it unlocked? I need to know if you had to break the lock in case someone reports a break-in.”
A flash of fear riveted Mason. Whatever she was asked, she wouldn’t tell about the awful pictures in that room.
“It’s okay. You won’t be held responsible but I need to find that cabin and let the owners know why you had to use it. That’s all. But we can talk about that later.”
“I’m not sure I can find it,” said Mason. “I had to walk a long ways after I left.” She paused before deciding to lie. “I did a good job locking it up when I left. I really didn’t touch anything except get a drink of water and use the bathroom. They won’t even know I was there, Chief Ferris.”
“Don’t worry about that now. Get some rest.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Erin arrived at Osborne’s before noon and raced down the stairs to her old bedroom. She cracked the door: Mason was sound asleep. Reassured, she crept back up the stairs and hurried into the kitchen.
“Mason’s okay, right?” asked Osborne, who was waiting for her at the kitchen table.
“She’s fine. Sound asleep but, Dad, you look terrible.”
Coming up from behind her father, Erin bent over to give him a fierce hug. Eyes closed tight with emotion, Osborne rested both hands on hers. “Thank you, Erin. You cannot imagine how worried I’ve been.”
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