All That I Dread

by Linda J White

Nate pursed his lips. “My daddy used to say, ‘When a boy goes wrong it’s one thing, but when a girl goes bad there’s no touching her.’ Girls can bring a heap of trouble, they can.”

  “Her father doesn’t think she’d leave her son.”

  Nate nodded. “Somebody drive the route?”

  “I’m sure they did.”

  “Did you look at the topographic maps?”

  Scott shook his head.

  “You want to come to my place and see what we can figure out?”

  Scott checked his watch. “It’s 9:30. You got to be at work in the morning?”

  “At seven. But I can leave at three.”

  “Let’s do it then.”

  21

  Nate had promised to teach me dog massage after work the next day. He’d told me to come by anytime, so I planned to be at his house at four. I also wanted to check his arm and make sure he’d filled the prescription for antibiotics after he left the urgent care. Why I thought he needed me to take care of him when he’d been alone all these years was beyond me.

  I was surprised to see another car parked in his driveway when I pulled up. I instantly recognized it as a Bureau car. Scott. I debated whether to leave, but Luke knew where we were. He was looking for Sprite, his tail banging against his crate. I had no choice but to get out.

  As I walked toward the house, Luke raced before me. I had to laugh. I could see Sprite jumping up and down in the living room, trying to see Luke through the front window, her ears flying. She looked like she was bouncing on a trampoline.

  Before I got to the steps, Nate opened the door, and Sprite came racing out. “Come on in!”

  “I don’t want to interrupt—”

  “No, you’re fine. Come in.” Nate held the door open for me.

  As my eyes adjusted, I saw Scott standing over a bunch of topographic maps spread out on Nate’s table. He looked up and nodded. “Hi, Jess.”

  “Scott.”

  “Nate was telling me about your search the other night. Glad you found those kids.”

  “Me too.” I nodded toward the maps. “What are you two doing?”

  “Got another young woman missing up west of Warrenton.”

  “I heard.” A little tremor ran through me. “It’s your case?”

  Scott screwed his mouth into a wry twist. “Not quite.”

  Nate stood watching the dogs through the front door. He turned toward me. “I’m sorry, Jess. I forgot about our massage date.”

  Scott raised his eyebrows.

  “Dog massage,” Nate said, clarifying. “Do you mind waiting a few minutes? It’ll give the dogs a chance to tire themselves out.”

  “No problem,” I said.

  Nate walked over to the bookshelves to the right of the fireplace. He pulled a book off the shelf. “Here. Start with this.”

  It was a book on natural remedies for dogs, and it included a chapter on massage. I began reading it, but I couldn’t help but overhear the guys’ conversation. The young woman’s name was Sandy. She had a little boy. She was going to school and worked at Walmart. She lived with her parents.

  I heard them talk about possibilities, about personalities, about how and why people just disappear. I heard them enter one investigative cul-de-sac after another.

  Tension built in me like ozone before a summer storm. Finally, I opened my mouth. “They haven’t found her car?” The two men stopped and turned toward me.

  “No.”

  “What was the weather like the night she went missing?” I got up from the couch. “Was it raining? Dry? Foggy?”

  They didn’t know. I pulled out my phone and searched a weather app. “Rainy. Thunderstorms beginning about nine, ending around midnight. When was she last seen?”

  “Ten-fifteen,” Scott said.

  “Did someone walk the route she normally drove home?”

  “There’s two routes,” Scott said, “one if she had to get gas, and a shorter one if she didn’t. The sheriff’s office drove both multiple times.”

  “But no one walked it.”

  “It’s a long way.”

  I looked at the map. “Show me the Walmart.” Scott pointed to it. “And her home?”

  Scott put his finger on that, then traced the two routes with his finger. “She either went this way, or this way. These would have been her normal pattern.”

  I studied the routes closely. On a topographic map, the closer the lines are together, the steeper the terrain. It’s easy to see hills, plains, mountain peaks, and drop-offs. I looked at Nate. “Can I make a couple of pencil marks?”

  “Sure.”

  I placed five marks on one route, three on the other. “Look here,” I said to Scott. “The road curves, and the lines show a steep drop-off. Even if they don’t walk the whole route, these places should be walked.”

  “Because her car might not be visible from the road. Thanks, Jess!”

  Worry stabbed me. Had I said too much? I shifted his attention back to the map. “If she went off the road in a storm, she could be well out of sight.”

  “Thank you.” Scott turned to Nate. “Can I borrow these?”

  “Sure.”

  Scott rolled them up. “I’ll bring them back.”

  As I watched Scott leave, I felt a shimmer of fear, like a ripple on a pond, move through me. Why did I speak up? I wasn’t involved in this case, not at all! Did I show my hand?

  What could I say? I’m an investigator. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. And the idea that an important angle might have been missed compelled me to speak.

  “Let’s get the dogs.” Nate’s voice jarred me out of my thoughts.

  “Okay.”

  He walked to the front door and whistled. Both dogs came running. “How is it that my dog responds to your whistle now?” I asked, teasing.

  Nate looked at me, those blue eyes sparkling. “Charm. Works on women too.”

  I grinned at him. “Yeah,” I said, looking around. “I see so many swarming you.”

  The dogs settled down quickly, tired from playing outside. It was cooler in the house, and they were ready to relax.

  We sat down on the floor in the great room. I was surprised when Nate put on some relaxing instrumental music. “For the dogs?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “For me anyway.”

  Sprite lay on her side on the floor in front of him. He began with her head, slowly moving his hand, massaging behind her ears, then stroking the space between her eyes with his thumb.

  I followed suit with Luke. I had him lie on the floor in front of me. He was three times as big as Sprite, but I imitated Nate, gently rubbing my big dog while Nate quietly instructed me. It wasn’t long before both dogs were relaxed.

  We worked our way down the dogs’ bodies, massaging each leg, being careful around their paws, then rubbing circles down the sides of their spines. I found myself mesmerized by the music, the gentle touching, and Nate’s soft voice.

  By the time we were finished, the two dogs were totally chill. Nate motioned for me to follow him. We went to the kitchen, washed our hands, and he made tea. It was late in the day for coffee.

  “You ever get relaxed like that?” he asked me as we sat down at his table.

  I laughed. “Nope.”

  “Ever had a massage?”

  “Nope.”

  He told me about a place he went to in Charlottesville. “’Bout once a month. It helps with muscle tension and anxiety as well. It’s totally legitimate.”

  I listened but I knew I wouldn’t follow through. “Not to change the subject, but how’s your arm?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Did you get the antibiotics?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at me.

  “All right then.” I called Luke, preparing to leave.

  “See you Saturday?” Nate asked. Battlefield would be training at an area on the grounds of Montpelier, James Monroe’s estate.

  “For sure.”

  “Thanks for helping Scott today. Sma
rt idea, walking the route.” Nate stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “You know a lot.”

  I turned away as I felt my face color. Yes, I know a lot. Too much of it from experience.

  22

  We never made it to Saturday. The next day I got a text from Nate asking me if it was okay for him to give Scott my phone number. I agreed, then instantly regretted it, so when he called, I let it go to voicemail. I sat there staring at my phone until I got the beep, indicating he’d left a message.

  Why was Scott calling me? What did he want? Why didn’t he just tell Nate?

  Had I said too much when I suggested they look for a car off the road? Had he figured me out?

  Should I add paranoia to my list of psychological problems?

  I decided to ignore the message. Let it age. But it followed me around the apartment like Poe’s raven.

  Finally, I listened to it. Hey, this is Scott. Thanks for the suggestion yesterday. It was spot on. I faxed that topo map up to the investigators, and they found Sandy Smith’s car. Right at one of your marks! So thanks. That was a very smart idea.

  I sat down hard on the couch, tears streaking my face, visions swarming my brain like bats. It was like the dream, only I was awake.

  Luke came over and nudged me with his big nose. “Oh, Luke!” I ran my hand over him, rubbing him behind his ears, and he licked my tears. I buried my face in his fur and thanked whatever power in the universe sent him to me. “Am I ever going to get past this?”

  Then a realization struck. They’d found the car. But not Sandy.

  I sat straight up. What about the woman?

  I worried about that over the next couple of hours, but I didn’t want to call Scott. Or Nate. Then, at about two that afternoon, I got a text. Battlefield had been called out. From the location, I guessed it was the same case.

  Within seconds I had a call from Nate. “You goin’?”

  I hesitated.

  “We can work together.”

  I swallowed. “Then yes. I’m going.”

  I called the incident commander, told her I would respond, and got instructions.

  As soon as I pulled my SAR pack out of the closet, Luke went crazy, barking and turning in circles. “Yes, you, goofy dog. You’re coming. I know better than to leave you home.”

  I reported to the search command site at 3:58 p.m. Nate was already there and talking to Scott and a trooper from the Virginia State Police. I walked over to them, leaving my Jeep running to keep Luke cool. It was 92 degrees and humid, even all the way up in the mountains.

  Scott introduced me to the trooper, Tom something, and told him it had been my idea to check the places where the road fell off precipitously. I felt myself redden, and I’m sure he thought it was from modesty.

  It wasn’t.

  “We think the car left the road up there,” the trooper said, pointing to a place on the curve. “It ended up a good twenty feet down.” He pointed to a place where a battered Toyota lay crushed against a tree. Crime-scene tape surrounded it now.

  “No sign of her?” I asked.

  “Just a bunch of junk from her car—textbooks, old McDonald’s wrappers, that kind of thing—scattered between the road and there.”

  “Could she have survived that crash?” Scott asked. “That car obviously rolled.”

  Clearly, he didn’t know much about car crashes. Without thinking twice, I said, “Yes.”

  The trooper glanced at me, and once again, my face reddened.

  He continued the conversation. “She could have crawled out of that. Might have a head injury. Could be disoriented, down in the woods somewhere. That’s why we need them.” He gestured toward me and Nate.

  “Well, then. Let’s get going,” Nate said. He was looking straight at me. Watching and judging, I thought.

  I raised my chin, trying to appear confident. “What’s the plan?”

  “Let’s go talk to Susan.”

  Susan Lewis was in her fifties. I got the impression she was happier working the command post than actually searching. I guess when you get older, searching, especially in the mountains, gets harder. Gray-haired and plump, she readily accepted Nate’s suggestions on how to proceed.

  We had two live-search teams—Luke and me, and Emily (who was just arriving) and Flash. Since Emily was more experienced, and probably had the steadier dog, she would take the road in case Sandy had survived the crash and walked back up the hill.

  Meanwhile, Luke and I would search the woods. A deputy would be Emily’s walker, Nate would be mine.

  “Sprite’s in her crate, next to my car. She’s in the shade and there’s water in her crate. But if we get delayed and she gets too hot, put her back in the car and run the AC.” He plopped his keys on Susan’s clipboard.

  “I will,” she responded.

  Nate looked at me. “Ready?”

  “I’ll get my dog.”

  Luke was thrilled when I let him out of his crate. I kept him on leash at first, letting him sniff and relieve himself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the LEOs looking at him. I felt proud. Luke is one good-looking dog.

  When I was ready, I joined Nate near the rolled-over car. I decided not to look at it. The last thing I needed right now was a flashback.

  Instead, I concentrated on Luke and his joy, and on the possibility that we could save the life of Sandy Smith. After going over a tentative search plan with Nate, I turned my back on the car and sent Luke off into the woods. “Seek, seek!” I told him.

  I was ten paces into it before I remembered I hadn’t checked the wind or marked the start location on my GPS. I shot a panicked glance back at Nate.

  “It’s all right. I got it.” He held up his GPS.

  The going was rough, all downhill, with sharp rock outcroppings interrupting the forest floor. The trees, mostly oaks and poplars, soared sixty feet high. Underneath grew dogwoods, hollies, and wild mountain laurel. I knew I had to watch for snakes, especially timber rattlers and copperheads. Bears, too, and I wasn’t even keen on running across a buck in these woods.

  I slipped a few times. Thin tree branches whipped my pack as I went by. I was thankful for my good boots and the fact it hadn’t rained in several days, but I could have done without the heat and humidity. Sweat ran down my back in a salty stream.

  Nate and I didn’t talk. There was too much to do just concentrating on keeping our footing, but I could hear him behind me, steady and sure, and it gave me comfort.

  About forty-five minutes into it, Luke, who was out of sight, barked. He barked but did not run back and tug.

  Not a good sign. I stopped and looked at Nate.

  He must have read my face. “I’ll take the lead,” he said, willing to shield me from another unexpected cadaver.

  We found Luke lying on a huge outcropping of bare-faced granite, jutting out over a small valley. No body in sight. Nate held up his hand. “Wait here.”

  I noticed that he approached the cliff carefully, and I realized he was looking for footprints or evidence. He moved onto the granite. Luke wagged his tail and barked, but he kept focused on me, the source of his toy.

  Nate peered over the edge of the cliff, then turned back to me. “Call him over there and reward him. I don’t see anything, but my guess is he can smell it.

  There is a line from somewhere that goes, “O Death, where is thy sting?” I can answer that question. The sting is in the smell, rancid and bitter. The sting is in the decay, the sightless eyes, the swarming flies. The sting is in the flesh, melting away like butter in the heat. The sting is in the pain felt by the people left behind.

  There is nothing but sting in death. Nothing.

  I moved diagonally away and called Luke to me. I played with him, throwing his ball, limiting him to three or four times because I didn’t want him to get overheated. Then I poured water into his portable bowl and focused on him slurping it up. Anything to keep from seeing what I didn’t want to see.

  Seconds later, Nate appeared at my side.
“I’ve radioed Susan. The LEOs are coming in. Emily is bringing my gear and Sprite.”

  “Your gear?” I looked at him, alarmed. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m goin’ down that cliff and see if I can find that girl.”

  “You’re climbing down?”

  “Rappelling. With Sprite.” Nate looked me in the eyes. “Jess, you don’t have to stay here. You can go back if you want. I’d understand if you do.”

  I hesitated. I felt like such a chicken.

  “Or you can wait, and I’ll ask one of the officers to walk you out. Or you can walk out with Emily.”

  I rubbed my neck, my fingers slipping on sweat. I didn’t want to leave Nate alone in the woods. I didn’t want to walk back with only my fear for company. I didn’t want to admit I needed a babysitter. I didn’t know what to do.

  “’Course, I could use your help,” Nate said.

  “I’ll stay.” I straightened my shoulders.

  Nate nodded. “Let’s relax, then, ‘til they get here.”

  We set our packs down on a flat rock. Nate’s shirt was plastered to his back. He pulled it off and poured water over his head and chest.

  I stared at his scars. “That must have been terrible,” I said, lifting my eyes to meet his gaze. “I can’t imagine the pain.”

  He smiled softly. “It was the broken road that led me to a better place, the place I am now.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that.

  Nate gestured toward Luke. “Best leash him up so he doesn’t disturb too much ground. This may be a crime scene.”

  I clipped the leash on my dog and moved away from the area. I walked around, letting Luke sniff, thinking about my own broken road. My father’s death was bad enough, but I was young, and with the help of Finn, I bounced back. I went to college, established a career, and earned some recognition I think Dad would have been proud of. And then came that night, that dreadful night that changed everything.

  Luke tugged me over to a log, following some scent. What was it? A squirrel? A chipmunk? I walked with him, content with letting him be the boss, watching him sniff, thinking of what a screwup I really was. If Nate knew the truth, he’d hate me.