Alex fought to get to her knees as she watched Sydney continue her valiant battle with the attacker almost twice her size. Alex saw Brooks stagger backward with Sydney’s strike at his face, and was climbing to her feet when Sydney made her running attempt to escape past him, only to be struck down once again.
By the time Alex managed to stagger unsteadily to her feet and step onto the dock, Brooks had already removed his belt and pulled Sydney to her knees before him. She watched in horror as the belt went around Sydney’s neck and Sydney battled to breathe. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as she made her way down the raised platform, anger and desperation driving her faster and calling on energy reserves she didn’t know she had. She picked up the discarded two by four as she moved, bringing it over her shoulder as she came within range of Brooks, the movement being masked under the sound of the wind.
Brooks was turned sideways to Alex, partially hunched over at the waist as he leaned down, pulling the belt tighter around Sydney’s neck. This left Alex a less than ideal target. She took the best aim she could, driving the wood beam down toward the base of his neck. In that last second before she connected, she saw Sydney’s hands dropping away from the belt at her neck as she lost consciousness.
As the blow struck, Brooks fell forward on top of Sydney’s inert form. Alex, weakened and off balance, staggered as well, going to her knees but maintaining a grip on the wood. She was again amazed at Brooks’s recovery as he shook his head and then rose to his feet. He looked down at Sydney, who was lying motionless on her side near the edge of the dock, then up at Alex who was climbing to her feet several yards away. He smiled at Alex, then reared back with one foot, bring it forward in a vicious kick to Sydney’s exposed midsection, sending her over the end of the dock.
Alex staggered to her feet as she watched this happen, hopelessly screaming as she watched Sydney go over the edge, splashing into the close to freezing water below. She slammed into Brooks a fraction of a second too late and they both went down, Alex straddling him about his midsection. She brought the edge of the board to his throat and applied pressure. Brooks concentrated his punches at her midsection, his fist connecting with the bleeding wound to her left side. He continued to fight as she weakened, then he suddenly threw her sideways, using the same tactic she had earlier, twisting and shifting beneath her and sending her off balance.
This time, however, Brooks wasn’t as quick to recover, rolling slowly to his hands and knees and grasping at his throat. Alex was on him again in a second, her body weight driving him down onto his stomach as she now straddled his back at the waist. Alex knew she had to get to Sydney. She knew she had been at least unconscious when she went over the edge into the lake. Alex prayed Sydney was holding on and she could get to her in time. She had no time to waste and acted on desperation.
Alex brought her hands to Brooks’s head, one reaching down and grasping his chin as the other placed pressure on the back of his head. She then placed a knee across the top of his shoulders and applied her bodyweight.
Bringing forth every ounce of strength she could muster, she yanked his chin savagely upwards and to the right as she simultaneously pushed downwards and to the left with the hand at the back of his head. Alex heard the sickening crack of vertebrae breaking even over the winds. His struggle ceased immediately and his body went limp.
Alex hurriedly pushed off Brooks and moved to the end of the dock where Sydney had gone over the edge. She leaned over the end of the wooden platform, searching the surface, desperately screaming for Sydney, terrified she had sunk beneath the surface of the cold water. Finally, she saw Sydney’s arms wrapped around the upright leg of the dock, eyes closed and barely conscious, oblivious to the voice yelling down to her. Just as Alex reached for her, Sydney’s grasp of the wooden pylon slipped and she sank below the surface.
EVERYTHING HAD GONE black for Sydney as she finally succumbed to the belt’s stranglehold and the lack of oxygen. Then suddenly the restriction around her neck was released and she fell forward. Her head and face struck the wooden planks, driven downward by a tremendous weight falling on top of her. In the back of her mind somewhere she knew she owed her release to Alex. She rolled onto her side, gasping as her lungs filled with oxygen again. Except for her desperate breathing, her body refused to respond and she couldn’t seem to see through the blackness. A sudden blow to her ribs knocked what little wind from her had been recovered, then she was falling.
Sydney struck the surface of the cold lake and plunged under. She struggled back up and gasped for air as her head broke the surface, the cold immediately sapping what little strength she had left. It took all she could muster to grasp at the nearby post and put her arms around it. At first she was able to hear the sounds of a struggle through the wood above her. Then her teeth even stopped chattering as she sank once again toward unconsciousness. She tried desperately to hold on but her arms slipped from the wooden pylon and she sank once again beneath the surface.
ALEX PLUNGED INTO the frigid water a moment after Sydney disappeared from sight. She dove, desperately searching and finally seeing a flash of color through the water. Her hands closed around cloth then she wrapped her arms around Sydney’s limp body and pushed off the sandy bottom. Alex pulled Sydney back to the surface, careful to keep her head above water as she dragged Sydney the fifty feet back to the shoreline.
By the time Alex was able to feel the bottom of the lake beneath her feet her own teeth were chattering uncontrollably. She knew she had a short period of time to get them both back to the cabin and out of the wet clothes. She pulled Sydney out of the water and up onto the shore, noting her blue lips. She ensured Sydney was breathing, then somehow found the strength to lift the limp body into her arms and begin the journey back to the cabin through the snow and wind.
It seemed like forever before she was climbing back up the porch, struggling through the still open door into the now chilled interior of the cabin. Alex had recalled seeing a thermostat and paused momentarily to turn up the heat. Somehow she made it into the bedroom, some still operational part of her mind telling her that they had to get out of the wet clothes and under covers.
She undressed Sydney, then stripped off her own clothing. As gently as she could she partially lifted, partially dragged Sydney onto the bed and beneath the covers, climbing in next to her and wrapping her body around her. She was relieved when she felt Sydney move, shivering and moaning. When she next looked down at Sydney she found haunted and exhausted eyes looking back at her.
“Is he—”
“He’s gone. You don’t have to worry about him. Right now we’re just going to get warm and then we’re going to rest.”
As Sydney’s eyes closed again Alex noticed her bruised and bloodied face. She briefly lifted the bed covers and inspected her once again, noting the redness to her ribs that was beginning to darken into purple. Alex remembered the vicious kick that had sent Sydney into the water. She knew there was a good chance Sydney had some broken ribs. She could only hope there was no greater internal damage.
Alex knew their only choice at this point was to stay in the cabin and wait out the storm and regain their strength. The phone was inoperable and there was no cell phone reception. They had no keys and therefore no transportation. And they had no real idea of exactly where they were, even if they could navigate in the storm. They would need to make do here for a while. Fortunately the cabin was well built, modern and appeared well equipped.
Alex fought her own urges to give in to exhaustion as she lay huddled around Sydney. Her wound was re-opened and bleeding and needed to be addressed. She pushed herself from the bed and tried to stand, staggering and almost falling to her knees as the pain and exhaustion nearly overwhelmed her. She looked down and saw the blood seeping from the wound. She would have to do something about that.
She moved to a linen cabinet outside the bathroom and found what she needed. She folded a pillowcase into a compress then used another to wrap around her torso an
d hold it in place. Not ideal, she figured, but good enough to work in the short term. Then she made her way back to the bedroom and climbed back into bed with Sydney, who was still shivering slightly. Alex pulled Sydney close, knowing their shared body heat was likely the safest and most efficient way to warm them. Sydney tucked into her body in welcome and it was only moments before each of them fell into an exhausted sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Four
SAL AWOKE TO the ringing of Tiffany’s cell phone. Tiffany rolled over and grabbed the phone from the bed stand, speaking quietly. He looked at the nearby clock. It was almost midnight. The timing of the call alone caused concern and Sal was instantly awake.
“Yeah, Regina. What’s up?” Tiffany said, turning away from Sal. He stopped her and reached up to tilt the phone away from her ear then leaned in so he could listen as well.
“Tiff, I’m sorry to bother you,” came the reply. “I was trying to get hold of Alex with some information that might be important. I got through to her briefly this evening but the cell reception was bad and she said she was going to get to a regular phone and call me back. With everything that’s been going on, and with what I found out, well, I’m just a little concerned that she never called back.”
“She’s up in the mountains for the weekend with...someone,” Tiffany said. “What information are you talking about?”
“Alex asked me to do some research on Matthew Sinclair. Everyone knew he was adopted, but Alex was wondering what his real background was. She thought maybe everyone was missing something and possibly there was something in his past. I had to call in a couple favors because we had to go back into the archived paper files, before things were computerized. But it turned out Matthew Sinclair’s real name was Matthew Brooks. Matthew Brooks had a brother at the time he entered foster care, a twin brother.”
“Sinclair had a twin brother?” Tiffany was immediately wide-awake as the implications of Regina’s statement hit her. She turned to meet Sal’s eyes, then pulled the phone away from her ear and put it on the speaker setting.
“Tiffany, the Brooks twins, they had a history,” Regina’s voice came from the device. “They did weird, mean stuff to animals and then later to other kids. Things we now realize are indicators of mental illness—sociopathic tendencies. They were separated in the system because they seemed to feed off each other. Matthew was eventually adopted. Lucas, the other twin, never was. When he got to his teenage years he grew more violent. There were allegations of sexual attacks against young women. He finally disappeared off the map when he turned eighteen. The records from their time together seemed to express an opinion that Lucas was the ringleader and Matthew the follower. I had some friends look at the actual events and they think the evidence more appropriately supports that in fact Matthew was the ringleader and directed Lucas to commit most of the atrocities at his direction.”
“Did you tell Alex any of this?” Sal asked, already rolling out of bed and reaching for his clothes.
“No, that’s just it. We had a bad cell connection. I tried to tell her there was a twin but she said she’d get to a landline and call me back. I’ve been waiting all night and she never called back. I’ve tried her cell phone a couple of times but it just goes to voicemail.”
“Alex would’ve called you back if she said she was going to,” Sal said as he pulled on a shirt and sat down to start lacing up shoes. “Something might be wrong. I think I know where she’s at up in Arrowhead. I’ll start by calling there. Thanks, Regina. Once I start making notifications on this you’ll probably be getting some phone calls.”
Tiffany disconnected the phone and started getting dressed herself as Sal turned on his laptop then began a search of resorts and hotels in the Arrowhead Lake area. Alex had called him Friday before she and Sydney headed out of town and had given him a rundown of their plans. Sal finally hit on a resort that sounded familiar from the previous day’s conversation with Alex. He dialed the number, reaching the night shift front desk clerk. Sal explained that he was a sergeant with the Los Angeles Police Department and that he was attempting to make emergency contact with another sergeant who was staying at the resort. The manager confirmed an Alex Chambers was staying at the hotel and connected Sal with the room. The phone rang unanswered and went to the message service.
“Alex, it’s Sal. It’s important I get hold of you as soon as possible. You need to call me as soon as you get this, no matter what time it is.”
Sal hung up and called the hotel clerk back again. He explained he had left a message but he needed to ensure the message was received and requested the clerk to arrange for a visit to the room. Sensing the clerk’s hesitation, he finally advised him the occupant may have been the victim of a crime and he needed to determine if they were present in the room. He soon found himself speaking to the night shift manager and after explaining the circumstances he agreed to check the room and call Sal back. He followed through as promised, and minutes later Sal was informed the room was empty and it did not appear it had been occupied since the maid had made it up at mid-day. Sal advised the manager he and other law enforcement officers would likely be en route and to please call him back should he notice the occupants had returned.
“What do we do now?” Tiffany asked as Sal hung up the phone.
“Unless Alex shows up or calls, I’m heading up to Arrowhead. I’ll start making some other phone calls on the way.”
Tiffany began gathering her own warm clothing. “I’m going with you.”
“No, hon, this isn’t—”
“I’m going with you. I can keep you company on the drive. I can make phone calls. If we get there and it turns into a big police investigation, I can run for coffee or do whatever needs to be done.” Tiffany took Sal’s hand and leaned down to give him a kiss. “I care about Alex, too. We’ll go up together and figure it out. And you may need me.” They both knew what she meant. Tiffany’s medical background might come in handy.
Sal nodded and stood up, then hugged her. “Thank you,” were the only words he could find.
An hour later they were well east of L.A. making their way into the foothills of the San Bernardino Mountains. Sal had notified Detective Chuck Severs, telling him what he knew and suspected and giving him Regina’s number, then advising the detective he was heading for Arrowhead. Chuck called Sal back as they reached the foothills and began heading up the mountain.
“After I talked to Regina I made a few notifications then contacted the San Bernardino County Sheriffs. They’re going to meet up with you. I gave them the description of Alex’s truck and the license number. They’ve already confirmed it’s not in the parking lot of the hotel and they’re searching for it. They had a storm blow in this last evening that made getting around difficult for a while but it’s starting to lighten up. Do you have chains?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Sal said.
“Okay, look for the sheriff’s car at the chain inspection point on the mountain highway. They’ll be waiting for you and will guide you up to the hotel. I’m going to make some phone calls to initiate some checks on Alex’s phone signal and some other things, then I’ll be en route. I’m hearing the cell signals are sporadic at best up there, so I’ll get hold of you through the Sheriff’s Office if I don’t see you there first.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you up there.” Sal ended the call then immediately called the hotel, asking the clerk, who was now familiar with him, if Alex had returned to her room. The clerk said he was quite sure she hadn’t, but put Sal on hold momentarily to call Alex’s room. He returned a minute later to advise him there was no answer in the room. Sal ended the call and put the phone down, reaching for Tiffany’s hand beside him as his concern continued to grow.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER the sun was just beginning to rise over the eastern horizon. A San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Deputy had guided Sal and Tiffany into the hotel after meeting them at the snow chain checkpoint partway up the mountain. The young deputy had extended every courtesy, filli
ng in the L.A.P.D. sergeant on the actions his department had taken so far. Unfortunately, that hadn’t been much. Not for a lack of willingness, but simply because they had little information to work with and the region had been hit with a short but fierce snowstorm. But all the S.B.S.D. units on duty had been provided with not only Alex’s photo—compliments of L.A.P.D. records—but also the description of her vehicle, as well as Matthew Sinclair’s photo. This last effort was based on the presumption Sinclair’s twin brother likely looked like him and just in case Lucas Brooks was in fact in the area.
At six-thirty a.m. Chuck Severs and his partner, Robert Kim, arrived at the hotel. The hotel had graciously offered one of their meeting rooms off the main lobby for use by the law enforcement personnel. That room now contained the two L.A.P.D. detectives, Sal and Tiffany, the original deputy who had led them through the snow, and now a sergeant from the sheriff’s department. Chuck got right down to business after making a phone call utilizing the hotel landline provided.
“Okay, here’s what we’ve got. I’ve managed to get some quick responses from Alex’s credit card company and her cell phone provider.” He leaned over a map of the region that had been provided by the deputy. “It looks like there was a charge on her credit card last night at about seven p.m.” He referred to his notes. “It was at a restaurant in Fawnskin.”
The deputy pointed to the small town on the map. “That’s right here,” he said. “It’s about eight miles straight down the highway. What time was that at?” he asked.
“The charge was processed at seven-thirty-two p.m.,” Chuck said after referring to his notes.
“That was a little before the storm really blew in,” the deputy said. “If they left shortly after that charge, they should have made it back here without any serious issues. There’s not a lot between here and there except some small private roads leading into other properties along the lake, cabins and things. I can’t see any reason why they would’ve stopped anywhere between here and there.”
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