“What?” asked Ralph. He finished off the water and crushed the flimsy plastic against his leg.
“You’re thinking that something’s off about that note.” Donny opened a fresh bottle of water, drank about half, and poured the rest over his graying black hair.
Unable to deny it, Ralph shrugged.
“What kind of criminal leaves notes these days? That’s for low budget films and cheap paperbacks.”
“The kind of sicko who leaves a knife tucked in a kid’s bed,” Donny replied, matching Ralph shrug for shrug. “We’re agreed this guy’s a few cards short of a deck, but don’t let it get to you.”
A high-pitched, female scream disintegrated any reply Ralph could possibly imagine. Exchanging a grim look with Donny, Ralph tossed the useless water bottle to the ground and ran toward the commotion. His breaths came in gasps, and he thought he might keel over from a heart attack. Nevertheless, Ralph forced himself to jog along in Donny’s wake.
Got to work out more. Got to eat less.
Ralph’s boot caught briefly on a tree root. He grunted and stumbled forward into a small clearing. At first, he couldn’t see anything unusual. A bunch of people milled about in front of a tree like agitated ants. Everybody babbled, and nobody heard anything.
The first real sound that broke through Ralph’s desensitized senses was a woman’s sobs. Knowing she would have some answers, Ralph weaved through the crowd toward the sobs.
Donny’s hand clamped on to Ralph’s bicep, hauling him to a stop. After spearing Donny with a glare, Ralph followed his friend’s gaze up, up, and up some more until he finally saw a child’s body hanging from the tree.
Chapter 2:
The New Problem
Erie National Wildlife Refuge
Guys Mills, Pennsylvania
“Cut him down,” pleaded a teenage girl. She knelt as if her legs wouldn’t let her stand upright.
“This is a crime scene,” Donny declared. “Ralph, clear these folks out. Call the Fish and Wildlife people and the state police.”
“Please cut him down!” the girl said more insistently. She gripped Ralph’s left pant leg to steady herself.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have—”
“Donny, I think she might be on to something here,” Ralph muttered.
A hush fell for a moment before everybody started speaking at once. Donny shouted them down and got them to back up a few steps.
“I saw him move. I saw him move.” The girl chanted the words. Strands of her golden hair clung to her sweaty face, somehow enhancing her plea. “He’s alive!” The last declaration came out like a reverent prayer.
Twenty years ago, Ralph might have shimmied up the tree and rescued the kid no problem, but his tree climbing days had long since expired.
“Donny, we need a ladder.”
Donald Wickerman made a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh.
“Yeah, no problem there, Porter. I’ll whistle one up.”
“Let me get him,” said another teenager.
“Who are you?” Donny demanded.
“Connor Daniels, sir,” replied the youth quickly. “Karen and I were the first to spot him,” he added, waving toward the girl kneeling next to Ralph. “I heard him moan. We both did.”
As if to confirm this, a faint whimper sounded from above. Ralph thought it might be the most beautiful sound in the world. The crowd stared up in wonder.
“Let me get him off the tree, sir,” Connor repeated. He addressed Donny, but his gaze bounced evenly between Donny and Ralph. “I can climb real good. Been doing it for years.”
You can’t speak real well, but you’ll do.
Ralph exchanged a look with Donny. He leaned over and spoke into Donny’s ear to keep the conversation somewhat private.
“I say we let him try. That kid doesn’t look too good. The sooner he’s down, the better.”
Donny studied Conner critically.
“How are you going to get him down?”
“I was thinking we’d go up first, sir,” answered Connor. “There’s a branch within reach of him. I can pull him up until a ladder gets here. He’s—”
“In pain,” Karen finished. She shifted her gaze from the boy to the policemen, and her green eyes begged them to do something.
Ralph looked to Donny who nodded in agreement to a silent question.
“That settles it then. Up you go, son.” Ralph turned his back to Connor, stabbed a finger at an athletic looking boy, and said, “You, run to the command tent, wait for the ladder to arrive, and guide them back here as quickly as you can.”
The kid froze like a deer in a hunter’s gun sights. Then, as the command sank past his shock, the kid took off.
Donny had stepped away to radio for the ladder. He now returned to the knot of people waiting anxiously at the foot of the tree.
Connor was already halfway up to the child. At one point he missed a foothold and slipped down two feet. Somebody screamed. Connor waved reassuringly then concentrated on climbing again. The people gawking up at Connor and the child fell silent, hardly daring to breathe lest they cause Connor to fall.
The muffled sobs from above grew louder. Something warm and wet struck Ralph’s cheek from above. The sobs morphed into a panicked wail and heart-wrenching cries.
“No, Silas!” Connor called.
Sunlight shone down through the leaves, shifting as a breeze moved the upper branches far above them. A sunbeam caught Silas’s face in full, and Ralph saw the tears streaming down the boy’s face, flung off in various directions as the child thrashed against the bonds holding him to the tree. Suddenly, Ralph understood the raw panic in Connor’s voice. The thick ropes attaching Silas to the tree looked old and worn. The crowd murmured as the problem collectively dawned on them.
“Stop moving! Stay still!” Connor ordered, sounding even more desperate. He clung to the tree a few inches from Silas, but until the child calmed down, he was well and truly stuck.
Thinking fast and praying his radio worked, Ralph barked a few orders. Gradually the crowd rumbled down to an uneasy silence again.
“What’s going on? Ralph, is that you?” Officer Pamela Stanley inquired. She sounded surprised he wasn’t following any radio protocols.
“We found the kid, Stanley, but he’s in trouble. Put his mother on your radio,” Ralph demanded.
“It’s not a cell phone, Ralph,” Stanley protested.
“Stop kicking!” Connor begged. “I can’t help you until you stop kicking!”
Ralph forced himself to not scream invectives at Stanley and pushed thoughts of Connor and Silas to the background.
“I’ll explain later, Stanley, but I need Mrs. Carver on the radio right now!” Despite his efforts, Ralph roared by the end.
A few seconds of injured dead air and static followed, but then, Rita Carver spoke.
“Hello? Have you found him?”
Ralph quickly explained the situation, turned his radio up to maximum volume, and held it up as far as he could reach.
Rita’s panicked voice squawked out of the radio.
“Silas! Silas, listen to me. Calm down, baby! Calm down.”
“It’s not working,” Karen said, horrified.
Ralph’s stomach contracted into a tiny, queasy ball.
“It’s got to be closer.”
“Throw it to Connor,” suggested Karen, climbing to her feet.
Knowing it was crazy but not really having better options, Ralph depressed the talk button and instructed Mrs. Carver to keep talking. Then, he called up to Connor but got little in the way of a response. It took the whole tree-side crew to catch the teenager’s attention. Once they had Connor’s focus though, it took mere seconds for Karen to explain her plan.
“Kenny, you’re the best pitcher. Throw the radio,” said Karen.
Ralph turned and found the kid he had dispatched to fetch the ladder bearers. Indeed, a Fish and Wildlife agent stood next to a ladder gazing up at the drama unfolding above.<
br />
“You’ve got to get him calm before I can climb up to him,” said the man, whose nametag read P. Malone.
Brilliant deduction, Ralph thought grumpily.
“Can you throw this that far?” Ralph asked, staring Kenny in the eyes and waving the radio under the kid’s nose.
Kenny swallowed hard but nodded and took the radio.
“Hey, Connor! In-coming!” With that, Kenny chucked the radio at his friend.
The radio smacked hard into the tree and started falling, but Connor let go with one hand and snatched it out of the air. An enthusiastic cheer was quickly extinguished as people strained to hear.
“I’ve got it, ma’am. He should be able to hear you now,” Connor reported, slipping the radio onto his jeans.
“Silas? These people are trying to help you, baby. Let them help you. Do you hear me? You calm down and keep still until the boy helps you.”
Miraculously, Silas’s thrashing subsided. He continued crying, but that didn’t stop Connor from slipping up past him.
“You’re doing great, just stay there,” Connor encouraged. He finally reached the sturdy branch he had been aiming for.
The people below clapped. Ralph found himself gnawing his bottom lip and consciously stopped.
“I’m gonna put the radio on the branch now,” said Connor. “Then, I’ll hang from my legs and cut you loose. As soon as you feel the ropes snap, grab my hand, okay?”
“I’ve got the ladder now, you don’t have to bother with that,” said P. Malone.
“Don’t have a choice,” Connor said. He kept his voice even, but Ralph heard the tension.
P. Malone picked up on it as well.
“What do you mean by that, boy?”
“Rope’s gonna give out soon.”
Ralph sucked in a breath along with everybody else. Every eye fixed upward as Connor pulled out a pocketknife, gripped the tree branch with his legs, and reached for Silas.
***
Karen Tyler tore her gaze from the tree and studied the forest floor. Connor liked to climb trees almost as much as he liked playing football, but she couldn’t watch him hang like a monkey and play hero. The poor kid—Silas—looked as terrified as Karen felt. In fact, his recent thrashing seemed a good illustration for the emotions roiling through her.
If I was his age and gone through what he has, I’d throw a fit too, she admitted. Her knees still felt shaky. You’re such a scaredy-cat sometimes, she thought, annoyed.
Not wanting to appear weak, Karen edged her way to the crowd’s perimeter and sat down, leaning back against a tree. She sat with her head in her hands, just resting, and kept her ears cocked for signs of success. She considered praying, but couldn’t handle the thinking part.
Connor’s a big boy. He can handle himself. The pep talk was little comfort, so she picked up a nearby twig and began snapping off small sections of it. What if that was Ellie up there? What would you do? Karen smiled as she thought about her stout baby sister. Nobody could hurt Ellie … or carry her up a tree. She’s everybody’s friend.
Karen peeked up at the boy Connor was helping. Now that he wasn’t screaming his head off, Silas didn’t seem like a bad sort. She wondered how anyone could hurt him. Searching her feelings, Karen’s heart seized painfully when the possibility of somebody kidnapping Ellie sprang to mind again.
What would mom do?
That was an easy question: freak out.
What would dad do?
That one was almost as easy: hunt down the jerk and give him a fistful of knuckles.
Karen tried to stop the flow of thoughts, but it didn’t work. Honestly, the chances of somebody walking away with Ellie were better than good. Kids with Down syndrome could be far too trusting.
Is there such a thing as too trusting?
Before Karen could answer the question, a hand fell across her mouth, slamming her head back hard against the tree trunk.
“Come with me quietly or I’ll shoot your boyfriend from the tree,” a man’s voice whispered.
He’s not my boyfriend, she thought through the haze of pain piercing her skull. Though technically true at the moment, it didn’t mean she would let the man shoot Connor.
“Nod if you understand me.”
Karen breathed hard, almost hyperventilating.
Don’t faint! Faint! He can’t hurt you then!
The conflicting thoughts got tangled in her mind.
The man cursed.
“Stop that. If you faint, I’ll shoot you! Come quietly or die here. Those are your options!”
Karen hesitated, torn between screaming for the help that walked mere feet away and heeding the man’s threats. She struggled to pull away, but he tightened his grip, pressing her head painfully against the tree.
“I know where your sister lives.”
That made up Karen’s mind. She ceased her struggles. Tears stinging her eyes, she nodded.
Chapter 3:
Unpleasant Surprises
Erie National Wildlife Refuge
Guys Mills, Pennsylvania
Relief relaxed Officer Ralph Porter until he realized his radio still squawked from thirty-some feet up in a tree. He grumbled and eyed the skinny-looking ladder leaning against the tree trunk.
Seeing his predicament, Donny chuckled. The soft laughter morphed into full-blown, rumbling peels, and he pounded Ralph on the back.
“It’s not that funny,” Ralph grumbled, brushing his friend’s arm away.
With supreme effort, Donny sobered, but a huge grin remained.
“You climb that ladder, and I’m going to take bets on when you fall off.”
“You’re a true friend,” Ralph said, fighting a smile. The mental image of him scaling a ladder was sort of amusing. The thing seemed to shrink as he watched it.
“Aw, don’t worry about it, Ralph. Let’s let hero-boy have his moment then we’ll send him up to de-tree your radio.”
Ralph looked over to the knots of people clustered about fussing over Connor and Silas. Connor appeared embarrassed, but he beamed at his new admirers, the majority being young and female, of course. They, in turn, lavished him with compliments. The adults hovered around Silas, who looked miserable enough to shoot a promo video for poverty support.
A thought struck Ralph.
“Call Stanley’s radio. Tell the mother Silas is safe.”
“Got it,” Donny said. “The vibrations alone will soon send your radio down on our heads,” he added, stepping away to relay the message. He came back a few moments later. “Done. I promised to escort the ambulance to Meadville Medical Center. Stanley got ahold of the father, but only the mother’s going to meet us at the hospital. The father sounded content to know the kid’s all right.”
“Good, I—”
“Has anyone seen Karen?”
Connor didn’t ask the question loudly, but it contrasted so starkly with the well wishes, sympathetic mush, and congratulations that it immediately captured Ralph’s attention.
“She was next to me a few minutes ago,” Ralph offered. His hand automatically searched his belt for his missing radio. A faint noise from above reminded him of its unfortunate location.
It took mere moments to search the restless crowd and conclude what they already knew.
Karen was not among them.
“Could she have wandered off?” Donny asked, addressing Connor.
The noise level rose exponentially as everybody tried to answer Donny’s question.
“She was right there!” exclaimed one of the high school girls.
“There’s no way she’d wander off,” declared another girl.
“She barely breathes without Daniels knowing it,” a boy noted. “Even after he dumped her. That shows dedication.”
“She wouldn’t wander off,” Connor insisted, ignoring the comment about his relationship status with Karen. “She might not have wanted to watch though. She hates heights.”
“She couldn’t have gone far,” Ralph declared, cop in
stincts kicking in. “Donny, radio the command center and have them reassign the search parties in a radius of here. Then, take the kid to his mother. Everybody else fan out in pairs. Maintain line of sight. And somebody get my radio down from that tree!”
“I’ll get it,” Kenny offered. Without waiting for acknowledgement or permission, he sprang up the ladder.
Though technically senior to Ralph, Donny carried out the order, bringing the command center up to date.
Kenny reappeared with the prize in hand.
“Thank you,” Ralph murmured, accepting the radio and hooking it to his belt.
“What should I do now?” Kenny asked.
Silas sat alone, shoulders shaking with sobs.
“See if you can calm the kid down. Tell him we’re going to get him to his mom soon,” said Ralph.
Kenny nodded and jogged over to Silas.
Ralph’s mind buzzed with questions and search details to arrange. Reluctantly conceding that the search wasn’t his responsibility, Ralph forced his thoughts to focus on the oddities of this case. An eight-year-old kid had been kidnapped this morning only to be strapped to a tree in a wildlife refuge. The kidnapper’s own note led to the child’s discovery.
Why would the kidnapper bother?
Another young person was missing. Ralph hoped for an easy explanation and quick resolution to the second mystery, but his gut told him the situation seemed too convenient.
Was Karen the main target? Why the elaborate game? There must be an easier way to snatch a teenage girl. She might not have been snatched.
Ralph weighed that optimistic thought and found it unlikely. He didn’t believe in coincidences.
“Slow down, Silas,” Kenny said. “I can’t understand. You’re talking too fast.”
Ralph stepped closer to lend a hand with Silas. At first, the noise coming from the kid seemed to be meaningless wails, but as Ralph strained his ears, he heard the pattern and eventually the words.
“She’s gone,” Silas said between snuffles. “He took her.” More sobs followed. “She’s gone,” Silas repeated through yet more tears.
Kenny awkwardly held the kid’s hand and murmured encouraging phrases.
The Keres Case (Heartfelt Cases Book 4) Page 2