by Mary Stone
Taking out her water bottle, she moved to the very edge of the rust-stained area, then poured a tiny capful on a spot. Her stomach heaved again as the rust turned red.
It was blood. Dried blood.
So much of it.
That sick feeling in Kylie’s stomach overpowered her. She turned around, bent over with her hands on her knees, and started to gag.
Watching the rescuers fan out, looking for the two missing people, I leaned back against a tree trunk, polished off another one of Amy Cooper’s granola bars, and grinned from ear to ear.
There was something that was just so satisfying about it.
Not the granola bar. The chaos I’d created. God, I loved watching this.
They all looked like ants, scurrying around for bits of food. And they all looked so sad. I was surprised they didn’t hold out candles for a vigil. Or that they didn’t break down in tears over the whole thing.
Fake, fake, fake. They didn’t care. Not really.
I mean, a worthless gym teacher and a college student? Who cared whether those people lived or died? What in this world would either of them amount to? The world was better off without them breathing its air. I’d done this planet a favor.
But did these assholes see it that way? No. So fucking concerned about the things that didn’t matter. Oblivious to everything else.
If it wasn’t for their incompetence, you’d be here with me.
That ear-to-ear grin collapsed when I thought of you, bouncing around the house, doing “exercise” to prepare for your first scouting trip. Look at me! you’d chortled, showing me all the colorful badges on your vest. You never could sit still. You’d been so excited that you could finally put all those skills I’d taught you to the test. The knots. The fire-building. All of the shit that really mattered, while your tribemates were probably only thinking about making s’mores and telling scary stories.
I watched the rest of the rescuers disappear from view. Then I pushed off the tree trunk and followed them from a safe distance.
Will Santos was at the rear of this particular expedition. I’d looked him up online. Talk about a waste of a life. Guy spent more time in bars than out of them. He’d had his Facebook page set to public, and every week, his profile picture showed him with another girl. Usually a hot blonde. Probably treated those women like shit. He clearly thought he was God’s gift.
People like that didn’t deserve to breathe, much less breed.
Yeah, he’d be next. Maybe not here, in the park. There were too many rescuers crawling these woods right now, all of them more than a little spooked after two of their own had gone missing, and I couldn’t risk being seen. Not yet.
Besides, it’d be more fun to switch things up a little.
Ah, Will. He always looked so cocky. I wondered whether he’d maintain that cocky attitude while staring death in the face.
No. I bet he’d scream like a little girl.
But not a little girl like you, because you were brave. So brave.
The thought made me mad.
Because I felt sure that you’d fought death to the bitter end, and that end wouldn’t have ever come if they hadn’t given up on you.
But they would pay. All of them.
I swore to you then, and I swear to you now.
After this man-whore, there’d be only two more. That butch, Dina Avery. Fucking disgusting. She was one of those women who thought she knew everything. I’d looked her up too. She’d gone overseas for the army, thinking she was some tough girl, and gotten injured a month later. What a waste of space. I could barely stand to look at her.
And then, for my final act, Linc Coulter.
That one would be fun. A challenge, but fun. Buff and good-looking, and he clearly knew it. He was one of those smart ones—didn’t have much of a personal profile online, stayed out of social media. But it was obvious he thought he was something special in the rescuing business. Had his own business training rescue dogs, and his company website said he was “the authority on all things SAR.” The internet was practically bursting with articles of his “heroic efforts” and great deeds, first in the army, and then in North Carolina.
It was all a lie.
He was the strong, silent type. The type who never showed fear. It was my mission to see fear in his eyes, right in that split-second when he knew he was going to die.
Damn, it’d be so satisfying. I knew you would approve. After all, all of this was for you. Because all of them, getting their names in the newspaper for this shit time and time again? How was that fair? You deserved to have your name in lights. You’re the one who deserved the praise. You’re the one who meant more than all of them put together.
So, they’d get what they deserved. I’d make sure of that.
And I couldn’t wait.
12
Sitting back to back with Kylie on a large boulder, Linc stroked Storm’s ears when she loped up, returning the ball by depositing it into his lap. “Good girl, that’s it,” he said, tossing it out into the woods again. She eagerly wagged her tail and ran out to fetch it.
Because dogs were sensitive creatures, it was important, especially once a rescue dog made a harrowing discovery, to give the dog plenty of playtime immediately afterward in order to help return it to some sense of normalcy. Storm had withstood all the horror of Syria that Linc had and had seemingly come out of it fine, but one never could tell.
And this discovery? It had definitely been grim.
Linc’s hands were still shaking as he wiped Storm’s drool onto his pants and looked back toward the river, where the dive teams were working. Then he looked over his shoulder at Kylie, who was staring at the scene, her fingers twisting in her lap. She’d scarcely been able to take her eyes off it. Like she had to bear witness to the discovery to somehow honor the fallen, whether it be the woman or the man.
He waved a hand in front of her face. “Kylie. Hey.”
She blinked and looked back at him. “It’s one of the bodies, right?”
He nodded. “Yes. Storm doesn’t usually make mistakes.”
She pressed her lips together, and in the next moments, the divers resurfaced from under the swirling water at the base of Bridal Veil Falls. One waved to the policemen at the bank as something bobbed up to the surface. Linc couldn’t see more than a swatch of hunter green, but his mind filled in the rest of the picture.
He jumped from the boulder just as Storm was coming back from her quest. He put the tennis ball in his pocket and clipped on her leash. “Hey,” he said, standing purposely in Kylie’s line of vision. “Let’s go for a walk.”
She leaned forward and pushed him to the right. “No, I want to see this.”
“Why?” he asked, trying to step in the way again. She stood up and moved around him. When he tried to stop her, she held up a hand.
“For the last time, stop trying to protect me!” she said, fisting her hands on her hips. “I’m fine. In case you’ve forgotten, I was hired to work on this case. I know it’s not pleasant, but it’s important I be here.”
He threw up his hands. When she got like this, there was no telling her what to do.
Against his better judgment, she watched the whole thing, as the body of the woman was dragged onto the riverbank. Kylie saw it all—the bloated, naked body, the fish-nibbled, blue-tinted skin. It was Amy Cooper.
When they rolled her over, the massive gash on her scalp became visible among her tangle of thick hair. Half of her skull had caved in. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing, which led Linc to wonder if she’d been sexually assaulted. The idea of it made Linc sick with anger and sorrow for the young woman.
A backpack strapped to her back had been filled with river stone. Kylie watched all this, and as the crime scene techs did their work, Linc kept an eye on his fiancée. This was upsetting enough to him. They didn’t need two people with PTSD in the house.
Once the coroner gave her approval, the body was loaded on a stretcher, and the crowd dispersed. Linc
found Kylie nibbling on one of her fingernails, deep in thought. “Hey,” he said softly. “You ready to go back yet?”
She didn’t answer his question. Instead, she met his gaze with a concerned one of her own. “Well, that confirms it, right?”
“Confirms what?”
“Amy Cooper was murdered, so there’s a good chance that Beez was murdered too.”
He attempted to follow her line of thought before shaking his head. “There’s nothing to say the two are related at all.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The deaths are entirely different. The nature of the bodies. Beez was an older woman, who died from the blunt force of a fall. Amy was apparently murdered, but judging by the body, sexual assault may be in play. It’s hard to determine.”
She gave him a doubtful look. “Give me a break. Add Kevin into the mix, and there are four people who’ve died of suspicious circumstances.”
“Wait, wait, wait. We haven’t even found Kevin yet. He could most definitely be alive. Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”
She took Storm’s leash from him and headed toward the trailhead. “My spidey sense is tingling. Ollie Crosby thought something was off, but no one took him seriously. I’m taking it seriously, Linc. Because he knew Beez better than anyone. And if he says she never would’ve taken a wrong step, I believe him. And even if Kevin is alive and well somewhere, I believe the deaths of Amy and Beez are connected. It can’t just be a coincidence.”
She started up the trail confidently but flagged after about ten steps. She handed Storm’s leash back to him and looked up the forty-five-degree incline toward the top of the trail. “I hate hiking. I really do.”
“I gathered that from the first ten-thousand times you told me,” he said, motioning her to go up. “Go ahead. I’ll stay behind you and make sure you don’t fall.”
She did. It was slow going because Kylie was overly cautious about where she stepped. As they neared the top, Linc’s phone buzzed in the pocket of his windbreaker. He lifted it out and read the text. It was from Will.
“Kevin’s been found on the South Rim Trail,” he called up to Kylie. Before she could ask the inevitable questions, he added, “Alive, but badly hurt.”
“Really?” He realized as she straightened and nearly toppled backward on the rock that he probably should’ve waited until they were at the top of the trail.
He steadied her and said, “Yeah. He’s been shot by an arrow. Hunting accident.”
“Hunting accident?” Kylie repeated.
“That’s what Will said. Said he must’ve gone off the trail and gotten pierced by an arrow. It happens.” He let out a breath as the sound of sirens echoed through the air. “That’s probably the ambulance now, coming for him.”
Kylie stopped, standing still as a statue in front of him. He nudged her to keep moving, but she didn’t budge. When he looked at her face, she was deep in thought. He snapped his fingers at her. “Hello? I’d like to get up to the top of the trail before the sun sets.”
“Right,” she said breathlessly before taking another step and tugging on her vest. “But I was thinking. Don’t all the rescuers wear these orange safety vests to prevent such a thing?”
Linc sighed. There she went, being all suspicious again. “Yeah. But that doesn’t mean everyone is skilled with a bow.”
“But aren’t there special hunting areas?”
“Maybe. Doesn’t mean everyone follows the signs. A thousand things could’ve happened. I’m not going to speculate until I know all the facts.”
“Still,” she said, “you have to admit that it’s a strange coincidence. Another strange coincidence. Don’t you think?”
Linc nodded and continued silently on the trail. Yes, it definitely was strange. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t deny that.
13
Kylie could almost hear Vader’s pitiful howls ringing in her ears as she and Linc headed home. She’d promised the forlorn dog over and over that they’d be back that night, but the promises hadn’t seemed to help. Vader had been simply stricken to be left behind.
To distract herself from the memory of his sad face—and from the worry of what the house would look like when they returned—Kylie fired questions out to Linc. Many of questions were repeats, but that couldn’t be helped. She’d learned from her criminal justice classes that it was important to go over and over each case, asking questions in different ways, studying notes repetitively with the hope that something would spark a lightbulb moment that would then move the investigation in a positive direction.
Would Tallulah Gorge State Park be closed, due to four suspicious incidents in only a month? Would they bring in the feds? Why was Amy Cooper on the trail? Had she been she sexually assaulted? Did she have any enemies? Did Kevin Friedman have any enemies? Maybe students at the school where he taught? Was hunting even allowed on the popular South Rim Trail?
And on and on it went. She had so many questions, she felt like her mind was going to explode.
She also listed the individuals she needed to interview, along with the series of questions she needed to ask them. Her notebook was getting full by the time they crossed the state line.
“Poor man,” she murmured as she got off the phone with Ollie.
“How’s he doing?” Linc asked.
“He’s not sad anymore.” She pushed her hair back from her face. “More like angry. He’s chomping at the bit for me to solve this case.”
Linc shot her a cautious glance. “We don’t even know if there is a case. We—”
“Stop!” For emphasis, she reached out and pressed a finger to his lips. “Of course there’s a case. Amy was murdered.”
He let out a long breath, like he was trying to be patient. That exhale simply fanned the fire of her determination that she was right.
He bit her finger, then went on patiently when she pulled it away. “Yes, but there’s no saying that any of that has to do with your case. Which is related to Beez, remember?”
She ignored him. “We should’ve gotten a hotel room. I have so much to do. Ollie’s depending on me, you know.”
“We couldn’t. We have Vader at home,” he reminded her. Storm’s ears pricked up, and she stuck her nose between them at the mention of her best friend. “Remember? I’m still not convinced he didn’t tear up the place while we were gone.”
She pushed Storm’s muzzle back. “I think we should let someone from the vet come tomorrow and watch him while we go back and look into things. There’s no sense in commuting back and forth four hours every day.”
He didn’t speak, just pressed on the gas and passed a slow-moving old pickup.
“There is so much I want to research,” she mumbled, reaching into her bag and pulling out her pad and pen again. She opened up her phone and typed a few words in. “And I feel like my hands are tied.”
He turned on the radio, twisting the dial for a country station. She knew his nerves were on edge from finding Amy Cooper’s body, and from the way he kept massaging his shoulder, it probably still hurt him. “Like what, exactly?”
She’d already begun adding to the scribbled list of questions that was now at least twenty-five lines deep. Her hand couldn’t move fast enough to get all of her ideas out. “Like, all those questions I’ve been asking for the last half hour. Whether I can talk to park management and see what they know. Or Amy Cooper’s family and friends to see if she had any jealous boyfriends. What if the suicide of that first victim was staged, and it wasn’t really a suicide? And if there was a hunting accident, who’d been granted a permit? Linc, there is so much left for us to find out!”
He nodded, entirely too calmly for her liking. Why didn’t he ever get riled up about things?
She scowled in his direction. “You could show a little interest. There is a murderer walking free out there, preying on innocent women.”
His mouth curved in amusement. “I get it. Kylie Hatfield doesn’t rest when there are injustices that have
been done.”
“Right!” She didn’t like that he was giving her the condescending look-how-cute face. Whenever she got passionate about something, he had to make fun of her for it. Even after all the cases she’d solved over the past year, he treated her like some dabbling hobbyist instead of a professional investigator. “I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“Oh, you will, will you?” His tone was even more condescending now.
She gritted her teeth. “Yes. In fact, why don’t you stay up in Asheville next time, and I’ll handle it all myself?”
He gave her a cautious look. “No way.”
She knew he’d say that. He was her self-appointed protector, after all. “Well, if you aren’t interested in helping me, then—”
“Cut it out. I’m interested. But there’s only so much you can do in a day. We’ve been at it since early this morning,” he said, lifting his hand and massaging the back of her neck. “Let’s just go home, get some dinner, and relax. Okay?”
Kylie’s lips twisted. No. She most definitely did not want to relax. Now that she knew that there was weight to Ollie’s claims, she needed to see this through. Her entire body itched with the need to get out and do something, but she could see how tired Linc was.
“Fine,” she relented. “But let’s please call up the vet tomorrow to watch Vader and the other animals for the next few days while we go down and look into this case?”
He was silent for a minute. “All right.”
“Is that an ‘all right’ to get me to shut up, or an ‘all right, let’s do it?’” she asked, running a suspicious eye over him.
“The last one.” He gave her that condescending look again.
“Admit it. You don’t think I’m capable.”
He shook his head. “That isn’t it.”
“Then what is it?”
“You’re very capable,” he said quietly. “But I’m not.”
He was trying to be cute again. Of course, he was more than capable in everything he did. “What’s that supposed to mean? Of course you are. You’re—”