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Stone Cold Heart

Page 10

by Laura Griffin

“You seen Maisy around?”

  “Last I heard, she was over at Mustang Wall.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Other side of the creek.”

  “What about Jill?”

  “Think she’s in the van on her iPad.” The kid nodded toward the yellow van. The doors were open, and a tarp had been erected to create a shaded porch. A sticker on the van’s bumper said GOD BLESS JOHNNY CASH.

  Nolan looked at Sara. “I’ll talk to Jill first.”

  “I’ll look for Maisy.”

  “There’s a bridge down the road,” he said. “Want me to show you?”

  Sara shook her head. “I’m good.”

  “I can show you.”

  She turned to see a young man standing beside the pickup. He wore shorts and climbing shoes and had a coil of blue rope slung over his shoulder. Sara recognized the Mayan sun god tattoo on his arm.

  “I’m Tristan.” He stepped forward.

  “Sara Lockhart.”

  “The bone lady. I know who you are.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Sara glanced at Nolan, and he gave a slight nod. Yes, this was the same Tristan he’d mentioned earlier.

  “I’ll meet you at the wall when you finish here,” Sara told Nolan.

  She and Tristan started trekking down the road. He was short but muscular, carrying a bulky coil of rope as though it weighed nothing.

  “So, what’s Luke’s problem?” she asked. “He seems to have a chip on his shoulder.”

  “He doesn’t like cops.”

  “Why not?”

  He gave her an amused look, then shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe you should ask him.”

  Sara looked around. The road had narrowed, and they seemed to have come to the end of the encampments. She heard gurgling water to her right, but scrub trees blocked the view of the creek. A massive wall of limestone rose up beside her, its top gold in the evening sun.

  “Isn’t it late to start up there?” she asked Tristan.

  He shrugged. “It’s a three-pitch climb. More of a sprint, really.”

  They neared some tall cypress trees, and Sara spotted the bridge Nolan had mentioned. It wasn’t much, but neither was the creek beneath it due to the drought.

  “Tristan, I understand you were with Kaylin on the morning she disappeared.”

  “Yeah?”

  Unlike Luke, he sounded low-key instead of hostile.

  “I’m wondering if you remember anything unusual about Kaylin that day?”

  “How do you mean?”

  Tristan motioned for Sara to go ahead of him over the narrow bridge.

  “Did she seem upset about anything?” Sara glanced over her shoulder. “Distracted, maybe?”

  “No.”

  They reached a dirt path through the trees, and Sara glanced up at the lacy canopy of cypress leaves.

  “Watch your step,” Tristan said as she picked her way over some exposed tree roots.

  “Do you have any idea why she decided to hike on her own that morning?”

  “You mean climb? That’s what we were doing there, you know. Not hiking. We started at Rattlesnake Gorge, and then Kaylin went off exploring.”

  “She went by herself?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Any idea why?”

  “No, but I mean, that’s Kaylin for you. She was always off bouldering or checking out some wall she wanted to try. She went off on her own a lot.”

  The sound of voices told Sara they were nearing their destination. The wall of rock to her right swept up sharply, and she paused to study it. It had to be three hundred feet at least. She spied a yellow rope dangling from the top, where it looked like someone had set up an anchor.

  “This way.” Tristan ducked under some low-hanging limbs, and Sara followed.

  A trio of people gathered at the base of Mustang Wall. Two women in climbing helmets stood off to the side swigging from water bottles. A man at the base held the yellow rope in his hand and tipped his head back.

  Sara looked up at the wall to see the climber. She was petite and built like a gymnast, and she wore a white helmet along with snug black yoga pants and a purple sports bra. Long dark hair streamed down her back.

  “That’s Maisy.”

  Sara glanced at Tristan beside her, noting the admiration in his voice. Sara tilted her head back to watch as Maisy floated up a rock face. Her movements were fluid, effortless, and she seemed to defy gravity as she used invisible holds to pull herself up.

  And she wasn’t attached to a rope. Besides the helmet, her only equipment was a pouch of chalk clipped at her waist. Sara looked at Tristan.

  “She’s free soloing?”

  “Yep.”

  “No rope at all?”

  “None.”

  Sara’s stomach tensed. She watched as Maisy reached a leg up, securing her foot to a mere bump in the stone, and then moved her entire body up the wall. She was probably a hundred feet up with another two hundred to go.

  “She’s tiny,” Sara said.

  “Yeah.” Tristan folded his arms over his chest. “It’s not about big muscles, though. It’s about flexibility. Core strength. Keeping calm under pressure.”

  And calm she was. Maisy reached behind her back and dipped her hand into the pouch of chalk. Then she reached up and wedged her fingers into a vertical crack in the stone. In one smooth motion, she hoisted her entire body up another expanse of rock. She made smooth, steady progress as her audience watched silently from below.

  Sara stared at the overhang near the top, unable to imagine how anyone could get over it. They’d have to be Spider-Man.

  “That Maisy?”

  She turned around to see Nolan walking over.

  “It is,” she told him. Sara tried to read his expression to see if his interview with Jill had yielded anything, but his face gave nothing away.

  Nolan looked at Tristan. “Will she hike down the back or rappel?”

  “Rappel.”

  Sara looked up again, and her pulse started to race. Just the thought of what a drop like that could do filled her with dread.

  Maisy moved swiftly over the rock, as though she belonged there. She extended her leg again, and Sara watched, stunned, as she sank into a full split, her tiny feet pressed against bumps in the stone. Sara’s breath caught. Beside her, Tristan muttered a curse. She glanced over to see Nolan staring up, his face frozen.

  Maisy reached back and chalked her hands one at a time. Then she stretched her arm up and found a hold. Her body flowed upward, moving gracefully over the stone until she reached the overhang.

  Sara’s stomach clenched as she tried to imagine the route. She had to go around. There was no other way.

  “What the . . .” Nolan’s words faded as Maisy reached an arm up, swung sideways, and then used the momentum to throw her leg over the outcropping of rock. The next instant, her entire body disappeared over the ledge.

  No one moved or spoke. The air was thick with tension. And then a high-pitched whistle echoed down.

  “She did it.” Tristan grinned.

  The man watching from the bottom let out a howl, and the women beside him clapped. Sara found herself clapping, too, even though her hands felt numb and her heart was still pounding just from watching the show.

  Sara looked at Nolan. His jaw was clenched tight, indicating he’d been just as worried as she had.

  “I’ll check you guys later.” Tristan smiled and walked off, clearly eager for his turn on the wall.

  Sara glanced at Nolan. “You all right?”

  “No.” He shook his head, looking up. “If I had a kid who did that, I’d ground her for life.”

  She smiled.

  “Anything from Tristan?” He turned to face her.

  “Not much,” she said.

  “What’s your read on him?”

  “He seems genuine. I don’t get the impression he’s hiding anything.”

  “In other words, if he knew something, he’d tell us?”


  “That was my take, yes.”

  “Mine, too,” Nolan said. “I’ve talked to him several times now.”

  “You mentioned Luke has a solid alibi. What is it, exactly?”

  “Witnesses saw him in the park all morning. Then he showed up on time for his ten-to-six shift as a lifeguard at a local pool. His story holds, and he even volunteered for a polygraph, which he passed with flying colors.”

  Sara held Nolan’s gaze. Polygraphs weren’t foolproof.

  “I know what you’re getting at,” he said. “Always look at the boyfriend. But in this case?” He shook his head. “I’m not feeling it.”

  Pop! Pop! Pop!

  Sara whirled toward the noise. It sounded like gunshots, but it had to be firecrackers.

  Pop! Pop!

  “Are those—”

  “I have to go deal with that,” Nolan said. “Last thing we need tonight is a brush fire. Meet you at the truck?”

  “Sure.”

  “See if you can talk to Maisy.”

  He headed off, and Sara glanced back at the wall in time to see Maisy unhooking herself from the rappel. Tristan handed her a bottle of water, and she gave him a fist bump. Sara watched them talk for a few minutes, and then Maisy broke away from the group to walk over to a pile of gear. She pulled her helmet off and shook out her hair as Sara stepped over.

  “Maisy?”

  She looked up, instantly wary.

  “I’m Sara Lockhart. Detective Hess and I stopped by to see if we could ask you a few questions.”

  Maisy glanced around, probably looking for Nolan.

  “He went to check on some fireworks,” Sara said. “You mind talking a minute?”

  She shrugged. “I’m headed back to camp.”

  Maisy dropped her helmet on the pile of gear and dusted her hands, leaving streaks of white on her black pants. “You’re the one who found the bones in Rattlesnake.”

  “I helped recover them.”

  “I’m friends with Liz. The one who spotted them down there?”

  Liz had to be the woman with the dreadlocks.

  “Think I saw her at the scene,” Sara said. “How’s she doing?”

  “Pretty freaked-out.”

  They ducked into the shade of the cypress trees.

  “Someone posted a video of it,” Maisy said. “I didn’t see it, but I heard it was pretty bad. It wasn’t Kaylin, though, right?”

  “The victim is unidentified. But it isn’t Kaylin, no.”

  Maisy stopped and gazed up at her. She was barely five feet tall, but the look in her eyes was fierce.

  “The guy who did it, they think he might have killed Kaylin, too, don’t they?”

  “You think it’s a guy?”

  “Isn’t it always?”

  Sara didn’t answer. She wanted to see if Maisy had something specific to say or if she was generalizing.

  “That’s what they’re thinking, right? Hess? The cops?”

  “We’re investigating a possible link between the cases.”

  They started walking again, headed toward the distant sound of music coming from the campground.

  “I understand you were with Kaylin the morning she disappeared,” Sara said. “Did anything seem unusual to you?”

  “No.”

  “Did she seem upset about anything? Any recent problems?”

  Maisy sighed. “They asked me all this back when it happened. No. Kaylin was fine. Normal. She hadn’t had a blow-up with her parents or anything. I mean, they disapproved of her, but that was nothing new.”

  “What did they disapprove of?”

  Maisy snorted. “Everything. Her friends, her boyfriend. All the nights she spent camped out here. They wouldn’t let her move out, but she may as well have. She spent all her time here anyway.”

  “What about Luke? Do you know why they didn’t like him?”

  Maisy didn’t answer for a moment, and Sara wondered if she was protecting him.

  “He got her into climbing, for one thing. And they didn’t like that at all. They wanted her to go to college, but then she got into all this and decided she wasn’t interested.”

  “On the day of her disappearance, I understand Kaylin went off on her own. You have any idea why?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve answered this question a hundred times. She just wanted to be by herself, you know, explore.”

  “Had she been in a fight with Luke?”

  Maisy bit her lip, and Sara’s pulse picked up.

  “Not a fight.” She stopped and looked at Sara. “I told Hess, they weren’t fighting or anything. Not openly.”

  “But . . . ?”

  “But there was friction.” She shrugged. “There always was with those two.”

  “What was the friction about?”

  She sighed. “Kaylin was independent. And she was better than him.”

  “At climbing.”

  “Yeah, she was the better athlete. I mean, yes, he taught her to climb, but she surpassed him. She’d entered a few competitions, won a few awards. She’d started making plans. She was headed to El Cap.”

  “El Cap?”

  “El Capitan in Yosemite. She wanted to free-climb the Zodiac. That’s the southeast side.”

  “Kaylin told you this?”

  “It’s all she talked about. She was planning to spend the summer training, maybe hit some of the walls in West Texas, and then take a trip up to Yosemite in the fall.”

  “What did Luke think of this?”

  “I don’t know. He was probably jealous. He’s good and all, but he’s not up to something like that. And anyway, I doubt he could scrape together enough bank to make the trip. He spent all his money on pot. Kaylin wasn’t like that. She’d been saving up tip money for months and months. She really wanted to do it.”

  They neared the campsite, and Sara stopped, not wanting the conversation to end yet.

  “What was Kaylin’s favorite place to climb in White Falls Park?”

  Maisy thought for a moment. “Sangria. That’s a wall on the east side of the park, the only thirteen in the area.”

  “What’s a thirteen?”

  “A five-thirteen. It’s a difficulty rating. But they searched Sangria last year. They searched every inch of that park.” Maisy looked away.

  Sara waited, sensing she had more to say.

  “I dream about her all the time.”

  Sara didn’t respond. A breeze wafted through the trees, making the dappled shadows shift on the dirt path.

  Maisy turned to Sara. “You think she’s dead, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Maisy shook her head. “There were rumors she ran away. Or she got kidnapped and forced into sex slavery. I even heard someone say she was doing porn. It’s all bogus, though.” A tear trickled down Maisy’s cheek, and she brushed it away. “I think someone killed her.”

  Sara’s heart squeezed. She wanted to hug the girl, but she sensed she might clam up.

  “You mentioned the problems with her parents,” Sara said. “Do you think there’s any chance she ran away?”

  Maisy shook her head. Another tear slid down. “Kaylin didn’t run away from anything. No way. It wasn’t her style.”

  • • •

  It was almost sunset as they left the camp, and Sara relayed her conversation with Maisy.

  “Anything new?” she asked hopefully.

  “The rivalry,” Nolan said. “I hadn’t heard about that before. But Luke’s alibi is airtight, so I’m not sure it helps us.”

  She thought of what Maisy had said about the friction between Kaylin and her boyfriend. Sara could relate. Sara’s job had been a battleground between her and Patrick. He routinely canceled plans when he got “tied up at work” or had a “very important meeting,” but if Sara’s work ever infringed on their personal time, he would get pissy and lay guilt trips. It was not only exhausting to deal with but worrisome, too, in terms of their pattern together. Why was his career more important than hers? A
nd why did he always expect her to cater to him and never the other way around? Their relationship had a major disequilibrium that Sara hadn’t fully recognized until she was free of it.

  Nolan dug his phone out of his pocket as they pulled onto the highway.

  “Hey, it’s me,” he said as he put the phone on speaker and dropped it into the cupholder. “What’s happening there?”

  “Not much.” The voice sounded like Talia’s. “A couple public intox arrests down at the riverfront.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Not yet. I’m headed to the bluffs to see if they need a hand at the fireworks launch.”

  “All right. Do me a favor. Swing by the middle school on your way there and check the athletic field. Crowley busted some kids there earlier shooting off Roman candles, and we need to make sure they’re not back.”

  “Anything else?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Okay, later.”

  Nolan hung up.

  “All hands on deck tonight, huh?”

  “That’s what happens in a small department.” He looked at her. “What’s that smile?”

  “You’re good at giving orders. You auditioning for the chief’s job?”

  “No.”

  The firm response surprised her.

  “Talia’s a junior detective,” he said. “She’s my trainee.”

  “I see.” Still, Nolan seemed to take the lead on a lot of things. “Hank is pretty hands-off. Or is that just my imagination?”

  “He didn’t used to be, but he’s getting up there in years. And he’s had some health issues lately.”

  “Why doesn’t he retire?”

  “Kaylin Baird is his grandniece.”

  “Oh.”

  “He intends to solve her case or drop dead trying.” Nolan glanced at her. “His words, not mine.”

  Sara felt a pang of sympathy. She imagined how awful it would be to investigate a family member’s case. The stress had to be intense, and Hank’s age already put him at risk for heart problems.

  She suspected Nolan was well aware of these issues, as well as the vacuum that would surely be created when Hank eventually did leave, for whatever reason.

  “Do you like working in the place where you grew up?” she asked.

  “That was always the plan.”

  “What was?”

  “Go through the academy. Get experience in a big department. Make detective. Then come back here and build something.”

 

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