“You have to let go of the tree!” he shouted.
She showed no signs of having heard him.
He struggled to maneuver through the tangle of branches to get to her. The wood scraped against his shredded pants. It reminded him of pricker bushes. He reached for her but tripped on a branch. He fell, and the side of his face smashed into the trunk of the tree. Numb from the cold and with his body full of adrenaline, he barely felt it. He shook off the injury and reached for the struggling woman. Phelicity finally let go of the tree, but the current was so strong it started to sweep her away. He splashed through the water after her and caught her when her jacket snagged on a tree branch.
He cradled her in his arms as he fought his way back to the shore.
“I’m sorry,” she said through chattering teeth. “I tried to call you.”
He gritted his own teeth as he carried her toward safety.
“When I found him in the car, I thought I was meant to find him,” she said. “I thought it was what the universe wanted.”
He really wasn’t in the mood to listen to her new-age mysticism right now, but he couldn’t tell her to shut up.
“The universe brought him to me,” she continued, “because he has the gift. He can see things. He knew about my sister.”
He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. She was crazy. He knew that from his earlier dealings with her. She had kidnapped Adam because of voices in her head or the universe or whatever the hell she was babbling about. She could have killed him. If he hadn’t come out here and seen them on that island, they could have both drowned. Well, the police would take care of things, lock her up somewhere, maybe get her the help she clearly needed.
The police won’t understand.
No, not that again. He didn’t need to hear that anymore, but it was crazy that he was back in this creek, that his own son could have been killed here just like that little girl. They were almost back to the shore, but his arms were trembling with exertion and his mind felt woozy. He looked down at Phelicity Green in his arms, and with her wet hair plastered to her head and her face washed of makeup, she looked like a little girl, but not any girl. She looked like Lily Esposito.
“Lily,” the name left his lips as a hoarse whisper.
He saw a look of recognition in her eyes.
“Jade,” she said. “I’m Jade. I changed my name.”
It came back to him then. There had been two Esposito girls. Lily, who was killed, and her younger sister Jade, who had survived.
Lance froze in the water as the hazy dream memory of that awful night flickered in his consciousness. The full weight of what he had done pressed down on him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion as well as the cold. “I’m so sorry.” A slim metal pole came out of nowhere. Picked up and carried downstream by the floodwaters, it had cruised unseen beneath the muddy water until it collided with Lance’s legs. There was a look of shock on his face as his legs buckled. He let go of Phelicity/Jade as he toppled over backward. He watched her as she crawled through the last few feet of water onto the shore. The water carried him downstream, and he splashed around for something to catch hold of, but there was nothing but choppy water in his reach, and his legs did not seem to want to work.
He watched as first the shore and then the fallen tree shrank in the distance. His head seemed to be sliding lower and lower in the water, and then it washed over him. Dirty, metallic-tasting water filled his mouth. He sputtered and tried to stay above the surface, but he didn’t have the strength. As the water pulled him below the surface, he saw Lily’s face.
39
Sage raced back to the police station. His wipers flew across the windshield in an effort to keep up with the deluge. The police radio crackled with conversation. A tree and wires had come down out on the state road, and a different road was underwater. Sawhorses were at a premium.
It was an all-hands-on-deck situation. Sage would need to get out there and pitch in, but first things first. He parked in front of the station and ran inside. Of course the man was long gone, but he ran up to the intake desk.
“I need to know who the man was who came in here before, the one looking for old records,” Sage said.
The officer glanced down at the log in front of her.
“Lance Walker,” she said.
Lance Walker? Sage shook his head. That didn’t make any sense. He knew that name. He had been hearing it all night. That was the kidnapped kid’s father.
“No,” Sage said. “You must be looking at the wrong piece of paper. There was a guy in here a little while ago who wanted to see some records.”
“Yeah,” the officer said, annoyed. “Lance Walker. See for yourself.”
She slid a clipboard across the counter, and Sage stared at the name written in a shaky hand on the sign-in sheet as water dripped off him onto the paper: Lance Walker. Sage’s heart raced as he stared at the paper.
“Where’s Arlo?” Sage asked. “I need to talk to him.”
“He’s out putting up sawhorses,” the officer said.
“Where?” Sage demanded. He hadn’t meant to slam his palms on the counter.
“I don’t know,” the officer said. “Somewhere down by the creek. It’s flooding.”
Sage didn’t have time to waste. He ran back to his car. He tried to raise Arlo on the phone and the radio but couldn’t get through. It would be easier to just drive around looking for flooded roads.
Sage raced off in the direction of the creek. He caught a glimpse of red-and-blue lights and spun the wheel. He took the turn too fast, sending up a spray of water and fighting to keep the cruiser under control. He saw Arlo out in the road next to the car, trying to haul a large tree branch over to the curb.
Sage stopped his car and ran over to help. Together they were able to get the branch mostly out of the road.
“Please tell me you have sawhorses with you,” Arlo said.
“No,” Sage said. “I need to ask you something about the Craig Walker case.”
“You fucking kidding me?” Arlo said. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of an emergency situation here.”
“What was the kid’s name?” Sage said. “His name wasn’t on the file.”
“Jesus,” Arlo muttered. “Now? You gotta do this now?”
“Was his name Lance?” Sage demanded.
“What you have to understand,” Arlo said, “is he didn’t know what he did. He was just a little kid.”
“Was his name Lance?” Sage repeated.
“You know how they say you should never wake up a sleepwalker? It’s true. Growing up, my sister sleepwalked sometimes, and yeah, if you tried to wake her when she was having an episode, she got kind of violent. Never hurt anyone but herself though.”
“Arlo,” Sage said. Whatever patience he had was long since gone.
“What did you want me to do?” Arlo said. “Send the boy away to prison for accidentally pushing his father down the stairs? What kind of life you think the kid would have had?”
“But—”
“Yeah, I know. I realized as soon as his mother started telling that bullshit story about seeing the car. Well, I couldn’t do anything about it. If I started investigating the kid, it would have all come out, how I never said anything when the father was killed, how it was my incompetence that got a little girl killed. Look, it wouldn’t have changed anything. He wasn’t some cold-blooded killer. He was sleepwalking again. I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah, well it’s happened again,” Sage said.
“What?”
“The alleged kidnapping? It’s his kid who’s missing, Lance Walker.”
“God damn it!” Arlo slammed his hand on the edge of his open car door.
The radio screeched. Even over the pouring rain they could both hear the frantic voice that shouted, “All units report to creek between Juniper and Lawnside Roads! Reports of multiple people stranded in creek!”
Ar
lo jumped into his cruiser, and Sage ran back to his. His mind was reeling.
Had it happened again? Had Lance Walker killed his son while sleepwalking? If that was the case, then what was he doing back here? Sage wasn’t sure if he bought the whole sleepwalking thing. Arlo had come to that conclusion because of his sister, but what were the chances that someone who suffered from sleepwalking would accidentally kill someone twice, let alone three times? What if Arlo had it all wrong and Lance Walker was some sort of sociopath?
Henderson. He had to call Agent Henderson.
As he sped down the wet Culver Creek roads, Sage slipped his phone from his pocket and managed to dial Agent Henderson. He waited impatiently for the FBI agent to pick up, praying he didn’t get voicemail. When Henderson finally answered, Sage skipped the pleasantries.
“It’s Lance Walker. It’s the father,” Sage said.
“Sage? Is that you? I was just going to call you.”
“Lance Walker’s a murderer,” Sage said. “He’s killed at least two people before.”
“No, we’ve had more than one report. They’ve seen the boy with a woman. We think it’s the father’s girlfriend. She lives out your way. She’s some sort of dream interpreter. Has some weirdass name.” Henderson turned away from the phone to shout to someone there, asking what the woman’s name was.
“Phelicity Green,” Sage said quietly.
“That’s it,” Henderson said. “You know her?”
“Look, I think she might be in trouble,” Sage said. His car hydroplaned slightly as he drove through an unusually large puddle. He fought to keep things under control.
“I’d say she is,” Henderson said. “She kidnapped a little boy.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” Sage said, “but Lance killed her sister, when they were just kids, and I think he might have come back here to kill her as well. I saw him here this morning, but I didn’t realize who he was at first.”
“What? That bastard! The cops here in Jersey instructed him to stay put.”
Sage saw another big puddle up ahead, and this time at least he had the foresight to slow down before entering it. The puddle was even bigger than the last one, and as he moved through it slowly, he realized his mistake. It was more than a puddle. The road was flooded. He tried hitting the brakes and cranking the steering wheel, but it was too late. The front end of the car was in too deep.
“Sage!” Henderson’s voice barked in his ear. “Sage, you there?”
“Yeah.” Sage checked his rearview mirror to see if Arlo was still following behind him, but he didn’t see his headlights. He looked up and noticed the street sign on the cross street. He had missed the turnoff that led to Juniper.
“Sage, I want you to find her, goddammit!” Henderson bellowed.
“I might have to swim there,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing,” Sage said. “I gotta go.”
Sage opened the door and stepped out into ice-cold water. His feet and ankles were numb by the time he walked back to the comparatively dry road surface. He took off at a jog back toward the turn he had missed, his feet sloshing with each step. He saw a pickup truck approaching and flagged down the driver. The driver rolled down his window.
“Road’s flooded,” Sage said.
“Well, the cops should be out here directing traffic,” the old man behind the wheel said.
“It’s been a busy morning.” Sage fumbled his badge out of his pocket to show the driver. “I need you to give me a lift.”
“Shouldn’t you be setting up sawhorses?”
“We’re fresh out of those,” Sage said. “And right now we got some lives to save.”
The driver shrugged and popped open his passenger side door. Sage walked around and got in.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
Sage had to make a decision. The rest of the force was already at the creek for the rescue operation. Meanwhile Phelicity and the boy might still be out there somewhere, and it was only a matter of time before Lance Walker tracked them down, if he hadn’t already.
His unanswered knocks on Phelicity’s door and the darkness that lay beyond came back to him. It was possible she and the boy were in there hiding. It was also possible Lance had already found them and they were in there dead, but Sage didn’t want to think about that. No, Phelicity Green had lived in this town her whole life, and she knew a thing or two about hiding. She wasn’t going to be easy to find, which meant she might be able to evade Walker. It also meant she would be able to evade Sage.
“Left here,” Sage said suddenly as he recognized the turnoff that would lead to Juniper. He would pitch in with the rescue, then get Arlo or someone else who knew this town better than he did to help him find Phelicity.
“Ah, shit,” the truck’s driver said as they neared Juniper. “Is that the creek?”
Sage couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The once peaceful stream had become a raging river. He thanked the driver and dashed out of the car toward two police cruisers.
Arlo and Rod had a neon-yellow rope tied to a tree and were trying to fight against the current to get to what looked like a piece of debris out in the middle of the swollen creek. He caught sight of movement out on the water and spotted a couple of the guys from the volunteer fire department trying to pilot a Zodiac with a motor on it through the engorged creek.
“He’s that way!” Arlo shouted, and he pointed at what Sage had mistaken for debris. He recognized it now as a person. Whoever it was did not appear to be moving.
A whimpering noise caught his attention, and Sage looked around expecting to see an injured animal. Then he caught sight of a woman and child clinging to a tree root at the edge of the stream, trying to climb up the muddy bank. He ran over and grabbed the kid, effortlessly lifting the boy to safety. The hood on the kid’s jacket fell back, and Sage recognized the face of Adam Walker. He went back and pulled the woman up to solid ground. The last photo he had seen of Jade Esposito had been from her high school yearbook, but he had no trouble recognizing her as well.
40
The roar of the rushing water filled Caitlin’s ears as she burst out of the car. She looked all around as she tried to get her bearings. None of this looked familiar. Her heart pounded in her chest. Was this the right place? Had she made another mistake?
Then she noticed the blue of police lights in the distance up ahead, and she took off at a run. Dimly over the roar of the water and the rain she heard the others shout after her, but she didn’t have time to stop.
Her shoes were no match for the waterlogged grass. They became drenched and muddy in no time. Her cold, numb feet stumbled over the uneven ground, but she kept running until the grass turned to asphalt, and she suddenly skidded to a stop as she came to a small parking area. There was a police car here, but that was not what made her stop. Her Land Cruiser was here, parked haphazardly in the tiny space.
“Lance!” she tried to yell, but she was winded from her run, and it was barely more than a gasp. She took a moment—she could spare no more—to catch her breath and try again. This time the word “Lance!” rang out louder, but there was no reply. The SUV was empty, and there were no police officers in the squad car, but she could just make out the sound of shouting from the creek. As she came around the cars, she saw a man as soaked as she was perched on the small strip of land that remained between the parking area and the raging creek. It wasn’t Lance. She could see that at once, but she called his name again, just because she had to at least try.
Fear gripped her. Images from her dream danced in her head, and she found it difficult to distinguish what was real from what she had dreamed. Of all the places he could be, that Lance was here terrified her. The thought made her dizzy. This was Lance, after all, her Lance. How could she be frightened of her own husband? He had never once tried to hurt her or Adam, but was that true? Adam had tried to warn her, and she hadn’t listened to him. She was as bad as the campus security officers, as bad
as everyone who had ignored her warnings. Anxiety swelled inside her.
Without thinking, she scrambled down the embankment toward the creek. Her shoes slipped down the muddy bank. She grabbed at the twisted branches to keep her balance, the rough twigs tearing her flesh. Her foot slammed into a jagged rock and she let out a yelp of pain, but she tried to use the rock to stop her rapid decent. Instead, her soggy shoe came off, and her foot with nothing more than a drenched sock to protect it took a stumbling, painful step closer to the roaring creek.
She looked out toward that rushing water that was now frighteningly close, and what she saw filled her with a heavy, foreboding feeling. It was Lance. She recognized his jacket. He was way out there in the water, and there was a rescue boat trying to get to him, one of those inflatable rafts with a motor on it.
“No!” she screamed at the men in the boat, though there was no way they could hear her. “No! Don’t trust him! He’s dangerous! You need to find my son! You need to look for a little boy!”
Of course, there was no response from the men in the boat. Her words had been drowned out by the creek, the rain, and the boat’s motor. She needed to tell them about Adam. They needed to find Adam before it was too late, but she knew she couldn’t rely on them.
Caitlin staggered out into the creek. Adam could be anywhere, but most likely he was near Lance. She could only see Lance’s back, and not even that well. For all she knew, Lance was holding Adam down beneath the water as she watched. The image caused adrenaline to surge through her as she waded through the too-deep water. She pushed forward against the strong current as the water crept higher and higher. Then she took a step, and without warning, the ground disappeared beneath her.
Up the Creek Page 25