Deadly Dreams

by Mary Stone

  Dammit.

  In the distant sky, he heard the helicopter drawing near. More emergency personnel arrived via ambulance, and he lowered his rope with an orange flag attached until it hovered just above the flash of red, giving the rescuers a more accurate place to search.

  Recovery of whatever was down there was proving to be no easy feat. It hadn’t fallen to the bottom of the ravine, instead landing in a crevasse with some sparse vegetation partially covering it. That was why it hadn’t been spotted. From where Linc stood, all he could make out was a triangle of red. It could’ve been anything.

  But because Beatrice was missing, and because she’d last been seen in a cherry-red jacket, most people seemed convinced that it was her body that had finally been found.

  In the hour after they made the radio call, madness and a whole hell of a lot of crowds had descended. Funny how, not long ago, Linc had considered this part of the world peaceful. Now, ambulances and police cars were arriving en masse, as well as news reporters and curious onlookers. The place had become a zoo.

  Lonnie, the newbie who’d been searching with Dozer, stood next to Kevin and Molly, shaking his head. “She must’ve slipped on the edge of the overlook. They’ve got to put up more signs.”

  Kevin scratched at his jaw. “That doesn’t make sense. She loved that vista. I think she told me once that her husband proposed to her up there. Why would she—”

  “She didn’t fall from the overlook,” Linc added, pointing to the less well-traveled area where he thought she’d slipped from as he rested his shoulder. “Under there is where her body was found. I think she stopped to feed her dog and must’ve seen something, gotten too close to the edge, and fallen.”

  Or was pushed, a voice in his head said.

  They all figurately scratched their heads and nodded. So, it was a hell of a lot of theories, but no one really knew anything.

  Other rescuers were showing up now, relating their own theories. Linc excused himself and walked to a weather-worn picnic table in the midst of some scrubby pines, where Kylie was sitting, head down and mostly hidden by her hood. She’d been excited by the find, then immediately sad by what it meant. His fiancée’s heart wasn’t made out for this type of work.

  “Hey, slugger,” he said, sitting next to her. “You all right?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes rimmed in red. Her face was already wet from the rain, but he knew she’d been crying. Her nose had started to run again too. She sniffled, but it didn’t have much effect. He offered her a mostly clean rag from his pack, and she blew her nose loudly. “I guess. You hurt your shoulder again, didn’t you?”

  “Nah. Well, a little. It’s not so bad.” In the distance, the helicopter was descending into the ravine. “Shouldn’t be much longer now.”

  She sniffled again. “Do all the other SAR people know what we found?”

  He nodded. Dina radioed she was on her way from the trail she was searching, and Forrest had shown up only a few minutes after he reported what they’d found. After that, the rangers had gotten on the horn and said that an emergency vehicle was being sent in.

  Twenty minutes later, they had determined that there was no way to reach the body without the proper climbing equipment. A half hour after that, it was determined that they’d need to bring in a helicopter. It’d been a long, soggy, depressing day.

  She looked at him, biting on her lip, which was trembling. “Does her husband know?”

  Linc put his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “Not yet. We have to make sure it’s Beez first.”

  She hugged herself and shuddered. Linc reached into his bag and pulled out a Mylar blanket, wrapping it around her tightly, cursing himself for not doing it sooner.

  “You want to go back to the motel and take the dogs? I’ll hang out here and catch a ride back with one of the other rescuers.”

  She shook her head. “No, I want to stay with you.”

  He looked up as he heard a commotion coming from the gorge. Just then, Forrest lumbered over to them, clutching his fisherman’s hat in his hands. “Dammit,” he muttered, sorrow plain on his face. “Just heard from the rescuers. They’ve got a positive ID. It’s Beez.”

  Linc nodded as the man ran off to spread the news. Kylie hung her head lower. “Now, can we leave?”

  “Yeah.” He picked up his pack, trying not to grimace as he shouldered it on his back.

  Kylie stood up, staring out at the cliff. “But I still wonder how she fell. She should’ve known all the dangers of this place.”

  Linc had wondered about that too, but he also knew there were a number of potential dangers in this job. It could’ve been anything, but he had a good idea.

  “Her dog wasn’t as experienced as she was. Maybe he took a wrong step and pulled her over. I guess we’ll find out what happened later. Or maybe we’ll never find out. Sometimes, you just have to go with the best guess. Let’s go.”

  They said goodbye to the others before making their way down the mountain, both of them silent as the dogs trudged along. Back at the truck, they were just getting ready to load the dogs when Dina pulled up in a yellow Jeep very similar to Kylie’s.

  Linc went to her window as she rolled it down. “Is it true?” she asked, her face a tight mask of concern. “It’s Beez?”

  Linc nodded.

  Dina banged her fist on the steering wheel. “Dammit,” she muttered under her breath. She turned down her radio, which was playing “Sweet Home Alabama.” “Guess I’d better go and tell Ollie. Dammit.”

  “You want help?” He wouldn’t have wanted that job, but he knew Kylie would want to offer condolences. She didn’t shy away from things like that the way he did.

  “Nah. I’ve got this one.”

  “Anything else we can help with?”

  She shook her head. “Not unless you want to give Ghost a bath for me. He’s all mud and burrs.”

  Linc gave her a sympathetic look and motioned to Vader and Storm, who were both covered in mud. He wasn’t sure how they’d manage to clean them up in the hotel room. “I think we’ve got enough on our hands with these two.”

  “Thank you both for helping out. Couldn’t have done it without you. You going back up to Virginia now?”

  “North Carolina,” he corrected, “and no. It’s getting late, and we’ve already got a hotel. We’ll stay here overnight. If there is any info about what happened to her, could you let us know?”

  “Sure thing,” she said, stepping out of the Jeep and letting a very dirty Ghost out behind her.

  Linc looked for Kylie, but she’d already climbed into the truck and turned on the ignition. When he opened the door, it was like a sauna. She had the heat going full blast, but her teeth were still chattering. She held her hands in front of the vent, trying to get them warm. Her cheeks were as red as if they’d been slapped.

  “I can’t wait to take a hot shower,” she sighed wistfully.

  She’d taken the words right out of his mouth. He drove out of the state park, still thinking about Beatrice Crosby. Poor lady. To lose her life endeavoring to help others. It was probably the way she would’ve wanted to go, knowing how he felt about the job. It was a damn good reminder that his job of saving people was a dangerous one. And here he was always telling Kylie that her chosen career was more perilous.

  Kylie didn’t speak much on the way. He knew she was thinking about it too.

  She was suffering. He’d never seen her look so despondent.

  “I think I’ll drop you off at the motel so you can get started on that shower,” he said. “Then I’ll find a place to hose off these dogs and bring us back some takeout. Okay?”

  She nodded. “Frank’s Chicken Hut?”

  He forced himself to grin. “I know how much you want it, so I’ll deliver.”

  She cracked a small smile.

  After he dropped her off, he found a gas station with a hose that allowed him to clean off the dogs. Then, he went and got a bucket of wings with some mashe
d potatoes with gravy and biscuits. When he came back with the clean dogs and the takeout, the shower was still running. Kylie’s marathon showers had a way of lasting the better part of an hour. He stripped out of his wet clothes, sat down on the kitchenette chair in his damp boxer briefs, and flipped on the television.

  The local news station’s top story was the death. The newscaster said that it appeared the death was accidental, and that the woman had slipped. Nothing he didn’t already know. When he heard the faucet in the bathroom turn off, he quickly switched to a different channel. He needed to get Kylie’s mind off the case. Iron Man was playing on TBS. Perfect.

  She came out a moment later in a haze of steam, a towel wrapped around her middle and another wrapped in her hair. He’d bet money all that was left was a hand towel for him.

  “Yum,” she said, sniffing the air. “Frank’s Chicken Hut?” She batted her lashes. “How did you know?”

  He laughed. At least she still had her sense of humor. Linc brandished the tub in front of her as the dogs yipped at him for a bone. She climbed over their wagging tails and grabbed a drumstick, then took a ravenous bite.

  “That Frank sure knows how to make chicken,” she said dreamily, her eyes wandering to the television. She grinned. “Iron Man! You, my dear fiancé, are a dream date.”

  Linc smiled as she climbed to the center of the king bed, still nibbling on the drumstick, and crossed her legs. She looked and sounded more like the old Kylie. That was good. He finished his chicken and headed to the bathroom. “I’ll be back.”

  A ten-minute shower and shave later, he emerged to find Kylie quietly snoozing as Vader gnawed on the discarded drumstick beside her. “Off,” he said to the dog, wrestling the bone from him before he pulled out the pillow and made room for himself. As he did, her eyes flickered open.

  She looked around and murmured sleepily, “Oh, gosh. How long was I out?”

  He smiled. “Not long. Go back to sleep if you want.”

  She turned to him, a sleepy grin on her face. “You looking for a little something?”

  He chuckled softly. “Yeah. For you to go back to sleep. Sorry I woke you.”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s good. Got to dry my hair or I’ll regret it tomorrow.”

  She climbed out of bed, unwrapped the towel from her head, and finger-combed her hair. Then she found an old hairdryer and turned it on, probably trying to get all memory of “wet” away from her body so she wouldn’t have nightmares. It did nothing more than purr softly as she ran it over the long strands.

  As she was finishing up and grumbling that the dryer had no power, the television station turned to a special report. Linc scrambled for the remote as an announcer said, “New developments in the search for a seasoned rescuer in Tallulah Gorge…”

  He held up the remote to snap it off, but it was too late. Kylie’d already turned to look at it. “Wait. Don’t,” she said and sat on the edge of the bed, rummaging aimlessly through her bag as she stared at the television. She pulled out a toothbrush and paste but otherwise just sat there.

  And there it was again. The crinkle in the forehead. Dammit. He’d wanted a nice, relaxing evening. Now, she’d be on edge.

  When he flipped it off, she shouted, “Hey!”

  He shrugged. “It’s nothing we don’t already know, Lee. They think it was an accident. Let’s just let it go, okay?”

  She pressed her lips together, then pulled off her towel and squeezed into her boxers and camisole. As she climbed over the dogs, trying to get close to Linc on the bed, he noticed that worry crinkle was still there.

  “I’m just wondering,” she said. “Did they find Tiger?”

  He stiffened. “What?”

  She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. “You know. You said that she was experienced, but her dog wasn’t, and maybe the dog took the wrong step and they went over. So, did they find Tiger too?”

  It was a good point, and he’d been thinking the exact same thing. No one had said anything about the dog. But one thing he was sure of, he wanted Kylie to get some rest right now. “You’re tired. You should go to sleep.”

  Just then, Linc’s phone rang, and Dina’s name flashed on the screen.

  “Hi, Linc,” she said when he answered. “Just wanted to let you know that the police have decided Beez died of an accidental fall.”

  “They’ve declared it an accident so soon?” he asked, to which Kylie sat up, listening. He motioned for her to go lay back down. She didn’t, of course. “You know if they found her dog?”

  “That’s a negative,” she said, sighing. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go and drink heavily. It’s been a shitty day. I just got done at Ollie’s place. He’s obviously not taking it very well.”

  “Yeah. I understand.”

  “And no. He does not think it was an accident.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Even after they found the body?”

  “Kept fighting me, saying there’s no way she could’ve fallen by accident. ‘My wife’s like a mountain goat,’ he kept saying. ‘She sticks to those mountains, and Tiger would never just go off a cliff like that!’” She sighed. “Denial. That’s what that stage is.”

  “Yeah. Sounds like it.”

  He hung up, and of course, Kylie was staring at him, nowhere close to sleeping. “So, they didn’t find the dog, huh?”

  His mind whirred through all the options.

  “No, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t with her. Wild animals could’ve gotten…”

  The wrinkles on her forehead were back. “Yes, but wouldn’t they have found the leash or vest or something?”

  He scrubbed his face, pissed when his shoulder throbbed with the movement. “Maybe. You have to remember that this is basically a wilderness, and it could’ve been dragged away by wild animals or something.”

  She tilted her head, thinking. “But if the dog wasn’t with her, then really, it makes no sense how she fell, right? Everyone keeps saying that she wouldn’t slide on her own. That she was too seasoned for that. And that’s what Ollie thinks too.”

  Linc pushed a long strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m seasoned too, and it’s one of those things you can’t put past yourself. Falling could happen. To anyone. No matter how long you’ve been at it. Pro baseball players still strike out all the time, right?”

  She gave him a doubtful look. “I guess.” She worried her bottom lip. “And Dina broke the news to Ollie?”

  He nodded. “He’s a wreck.”

  The very tip of her nose turned pink, and her eyes grew glassy with tears. “I want to visit him tomorrow,” she announced.

  Linc had been expecting that. “All right. We can stop there on the way out of town.”

  “And I have to call Greg, too, just to let him know. I know he’s worried.” She lay back and stared at the ceiling, then let out a big breath of air. “So, we’re going home?”

  He rolled onto his side and looked at her. He thought that went without saying. “Right? It was an accident. Case closed. I think our part of the case is over.” He stroked a finger down her cheek. “You found her, Lee. We’re done.”

  A tear escaped. “Yeah. I guess,” she said and rolled until her face was pressed against his chest. “Let’s go home.”

  8

  One month later…

  Amy Cooper stopped at the base of Tallulah Gorge and watched the rushing water from the previous week’s rainfall slipping by like whitewater rapids. So fierce and loud and alive.

  She had a new perspective now. She’d decided to turn over a new leaf and no longer be a victim. This morning, it was good to be alive. Alive and young and single. And she was happy to be a part of this beautiful world, to acknowledge there was life outside of the microcosm of her college campus.

  It was nice out today, especially for late November. Calm and quiet and cool, perfect since it was barely seven in the morning. She’d left her apartment nearby Piedmont College early, leaving her dreary l
ife behind as most of the kids headed to their home for Thanksgiving break.

  Not her. She wanted the silence of being alone. Wanted away from the alcohol-fueled fights that highlighted every family gathering. Wanted away from her thoughts of him.

  Lowering her backpack, she pulled out a granola bar and willed away thoughts of the man who she’d thought she would be spending the holiday with. Ted, with his flowing brown hair, melted-chocolate eyes. The way he’d walk to the front of the lecture hall in those jeans that fit just right, pushing his glasses up the end of his thin nose as he recited Keats or Shelley. He’d say a verse in his deep timbre, and all the girls, who always sat in the front row to be close to him, would swoon.

  As sexy as he was in front of his British Romantics class, nothing quite beat how he looked reciting those words to her on the bed in her off-campus apartment, the white of the sheet contrasting perfectly with his tan skin.

  She shivered a little at the thought. Ted Merced is good in bed. That was the refrain among the other female graduate students at Piedmont. She’d thought they were all chomping at the bit to get into his good graces. She’d thought she was lucky. She’d thought that after twenty-three years of not being considered particularly pretty, or thin, or smart, or anything that boys would write home about, she’d finally landed the one.

  The one who would change her from an ugly duckling to a beautiful butterfly. Or swan. Whatever.

  It wasn’t until much later, when she’d fallen hopelessly in love with the man, that she found out that those other women who’d recited that rhyme about Dr. Ted Merced—teaching assistant extraordinaire—being good in bed…were actually speaking from experience.

  She winced as she realized she was thinking deeply about him again. How she wanted to scrape those thoughts from her head! She walked a little farther down the path abutting the rushing river, cursing herself. So much for a good bit of exercise to clear the mind.

  She lifted her sweat-soaked shirt from her chest, letting the cool morning air waft inside. The trail down had been muddy from so much rain over the last several weeks and this particular trail had been closed because of rockslides during much of the fall leaf season. When she read it had recently reopened, she’d decided to be the first to get a permit. It sounded like just the challenge she needed.