Novak smiled. “No, sir. The FBI are trying to discover the identity of the woman who died up on the mountain yesterday. Have you seen a photograph of her yet?”
The man shook his head.
Novak pulled up an image on his cell. “You recognize her?”
The man’s eyes widened, and he covered his mouth with his hand. “She stayed here in the camp. Was it murder? That’s what they said on the radio.”
“We’re not sure yet.” It was more than Novak should have said. Shit. “Who am I addressing?” He pulled out a notepad and pencil. Charlotte’s hunch that these people might know something was already paying off.
“Professor Alan Kennedy.” The man sighed. “I should have packed up and left yesterday but I was worried…”
When he trailed off and stared up the mountain, Novak asked impatiently, “Worried about what?”
The professor scanned Novak’s face, looking for something. If he was after warm and fuzzies he was staring at the wrong goddamn federal employee.
“I was worried that someone was going to start blaming Sasquatch for that poor woman’s death, but they’ve never shown any signs of aggression that we know of…”
Novak held his pencil poised over his paper. “You’re worried someone is going to pin this on Bigfoot?”
The professor rolled his eyes. “I am aware of how crazy it sounds to anyone who doesn’t believe these creatures exist.”
Novak forced himself to write it all down. The professor had no idea how crazy it sounded, but at least Agent Fontaine had warned him about this possibility. He’d have to thank her later. “Most of us like a little more evidence.”
“Like the Patterson-Gimlin film? No one can discredit that old movie and yet no one believes it.”
“That movie was taken in the sixties. It doesn’t really explain how in this day and age there isn’t more evidence of a large primate existing in a country with a population of 300 million people.”
The professor sighed. “Unless you’ve studied the sightings and videos as I have, I’d say there’s a lot of hubris associated with ignorant people declaring Sasquatch doesn’t exist, don’t you? I like the idea that we don’t know everything about our planet and primates. Keeps life interesting.”
Novak was pretty sure he’d just been insulted. “There was a credible sighting around here?”
The professor ran his fingers through his hair that was blowing in the wind. “August fourth, two hikers came upon a female Sasquatch carrying a baby. She ran before they got a good photo of her although they snapped a few shots on their phones. Researchers from the Bigfoot Researchers Organization, of which I am a member, came out and cast some footprints.”
“You’ve been here all this time?” Sounded like the guy had a cushy job.
“No. I’ve been back and forth. This trip I arrived last Thursday night and met up with a group of like-minded friends.” The professor seemed to take umbrage at Novak’s expression. Novak got that a lot. “We often spend weekends and vacations camping out and hiking at night, scaring ourselves witless by howling in the woods. It’s harmless fun.”
“Were you hiking in the woods night before last?”
The professor shook his head. “We spent Friday and Saturday night out there. Most of the others left on Sunday, but I decided to hang around for a few extra days. I like this part of the world.”
Sure. “See anything?”
Kennedy sighed. “Not this time.”
“What can you tell me about the woman who died?” Novak needed to get the guy back on track.
The professor’s expression cleared, and he looked away. “I don’t know her name. She and her friend very much kept to themselves in terms of social activities.”
“Friend?” Novak’s ears perked up.
“They shared that tent over there. The yellow one with blue guidelines. I think the friend’s name is Kate or something similar.” The man scanned the milling crowd. “I don’t see her.”
“Does she have a surname?” Novak probed.
“I am notoriously bad at remembering names. Ask my students.” The professor’s lips pinched. “And now I better get out of here before my college sees me on the evening news and fires me. Or the sheriff comes back and arrests us all because we don’t side with greedy corporations who fund his reelection campaigns.”
Novak got the man’s contact details and a business card. Then he strode toward the yellow tent, weaving through people and their belongings that had been scattered around the place like trash. People were gathering their stuff and avoiding eye contact.
Charlotte looked up. He jerked his head, and she moved to join him. When she got close enough, he leaned in closer, noting the smell of limes from her skin. Definitely not eau de goat.
“According to the professor over there, the dead woman shared a tent with another girl, who he thinks is called Kate but didn’t sound sure.”
“The yellow tent?” she asked as he pointed.
“Yup.”
He went to let her take the lead, but she waved her hand forward. “After you, SSA Novak.”
“You don’t think I might scare a woman alone, especially under these circumstances?”
She smiled, and he was caught again by her calm confidence, not to mention her pretty face. “It’s your lead, Payne. And I think you can be as scary or charming as you want to be.”
Charming? Was that a compliment? He didn’t even know if anyone had called him charming before.
The tent was close to the edge of the forest, and the trees rose up all around them. A crow cawed loudly from the top of a large pine. He stared at the tightly zipped entrance. Clearly the deputies hadn’t got this far before he and Charlotte had arrived.
They stopped outside. “Whoever is in the tent, this is SSA Novak and Blood with the FBI. Come out. We’d like talk to you.” From Charlotte’s expression, he wasn’t quite as charming as she’d hoped.
“Please,” he added belatedly.
No one answered. He put his hand on his weapon as he leaned forward and gently eased up the zipper. There was that sound that reminded him of death again, just like the body bag. He didn’t let it distract him.
Charlotte stood on the other side of the canopy and had her weapon drawn but pointed at the ground.
At least she wasn’t a pacifist. Not that the FBI employed many pacifists.
He drew back the edge of the canvas. Inside were two sleeping bags. One was open and empty. Someone was tucked deep into the other, barely visible under a pile of clothes and bedding.
“Ma’am? I need you to step out of the tent for a few moments so I can speak with you.”
Her head moved from side to side, and she groaned.
Was she faking it? Did she have a weapon down in that sleeping bag or hidden beneath the covers?
“Ma’am.” He spoke louder but the only response was the rasping sound of her breath.
“I’m not sure she’s conscious,” Charlotte said tightly.
They were starting to gather a crowd.
“Leave her alone,” someone shouted.
“Leave us all alone!”
Novak frowned and looked over his shoulder, then crouched down, peering inside to better assess the threat. He needed to know they weren’t going to be rushed by a mob before he could deal with what looked like a sick woman.
“I think she might be ill,” Charlotte addressed the agitated crowd. “Did anyone check on her recently?”
The mood changed. Shifted to reason and calm. Part of it was her gentle tone, part of it was the obvious concern ringing in her voice. People shuffled their feet and glanced around guiltily.
“I haven’t seen either of them since the night before last.”
“The one girl talked about visiting Arizona over Thanksgiving. Haven’t seen them since.”
“Didn’t realize they were back…”
“I should have checked on them after the reports.”
The crowd edged away to deal with thei
r own business.
Novak exchanged a look with Charlotte, and she tucked her weapon away and indicated she also thought it was safe.
Novak crawled inside and saw that the woman was young, a teen. She didn’t react to his presence but groaned as if she was in pain. He put his palm on her forehead, and her skin sizzled beneath his fingers. “She’s burning up. She needs a doctor or an ER.”
Charlotte leaned down. “Can you carry her?”
He shot her a look.
“We need to get her to the ranch and have a medic look at her. Arrange a helicopter to transfer her to a hospital if it’s urgent.”
Novak slipped his arms under her shoulders and under her knees. He lifted her easily and shuffled awkwardly out of the low canvas on his knees. He straightened as soon as he got outside the tent.
“Where’s Brenna?” A woman who’d stuck around asked. She looked to be in her mid-sixties. Five-six. Long gray hair under a multi-colored scarf wrapped around her head.
“Brenna share the tent with Kate?” he asked.
“Kayla,” the woman corrected and then looked away. People were starting to figure out exactly where Brenna was.
Charlotte pulled on latex gloves. She ducked into the tent and quickly searched until she found two purses. She photographed them in situ before removing two wallets, opening them to IDs and then placing them in evidence bags she had in her pockets.
“You get her to a doctor, ASAP. I’m going to secure the scene.” She was already dialing McKenzie.
Novak shifted the sick girl higher in his arms. She was reed thin and small. He didn’t want to leave Charlotte alone with a crowd of strangers who may or may not be harmless.
“Let’s both go, and evidence techs can come back later.” Even as he said it, he knew she wouldn’t agree. If this was where the dead woman lived, they needed to process the scene. And the woman in his arms urgently needed to be seen by a physician.
He looked at Charlotte indecisively, something he never was. “I’m sending backup.”
“If only we hadn’t sent the sheriff away.” Her tone was light and gently mocking. “Go. Get that poor girl some help. I’ll be fine.”
Novak was wasting time, so he headed for the Chevy. The people here seemed generally harmless, and Charlotte could look after herself. The memory of the dead woman flashed through his mind.
He got to the car and slid Kayla into the backseat. Her eyes half opened. “TJ?”
A bolt of satisfaction shot through him. Here was a solid connection to the case. She had to know what was going on. “No, honey, but you’re gonna be okay. Rest up. I’ll get you to a doctor.”
He climbed in the driver’s seat and pulled away. He drove fast but not as fast as he wanted.
One minute into the journey he was already cursing himself for leaving Charlotte behind. He pulled out his sat phone to call Angeletti but as he did so, one of their armored Suburbans shot past. Novak should have known they’d come back him up, even though he’d told them to stand down. He didn’t stop or slow as the call connected.
“What’s up, boss?”
“Find SSA Blood at the campsite. Canvass the people there about what they know about the dead woman and her friend, Kayla.”
“Okay.” It sounded like a question.
“We pulled the friend from their tent. She’s delirious, but she’s definitely involved somehow. I don’t like the idea of a single agent being out there when we don’t know what threats are present.” He’d have been worried about anyone. It wasn’t because Charlotte was a female agent, although he definitely worried more about female agents working in the field. He knew it was a bias, and he was trying his best to get over it.
“Roger that. We’ve got her back, boss.”
Somehow, Charlotte had burrowed under his armor plating and become another one of his responsibilities. Just what I need. He knew Angeletti would make a big deal out of it at some point but right now, the priority was getting the job done.
Novak turned into the entrance of the ranch without slowing and pulled through the open barn door and slammed on the brakes. The door closed behind him.
Novak jumped out.
“What have we got?” McKenzie barked, striding toward him.
A former combat medic was already in the backseat, leaning over the sick girl.
“A man at the camp recognized the dead woman from the image we have of her. He told me she shared a tent with another girl. When we investigated further, we found this woman unresponsive. SSA Blood insisted I bring her here so she can be medically assessed. Charlotte stayed behind to guard the scene.” Novak leaned closer to McKenzie so only he could hear. “The girl is delirious and called me TJ.”
McKenzie’s eyes widened. “Any idea what’s wrong with her?” This last question was directed at the medic who pursed his lips.
“No obvious injuries. She has a fever and is severely dehydrated. Right now, I’m guessing she’s fighting influenza or some other infection.”
“Great. I hope to god everyone here is up-to-date with their vaccinations,” McKenzie muttered.
“Always, but it might be a good idea for anyone treating her to wear a face mask until we know for sure what she has.” The medic pulled an N95 mask out of his kit and put it on.
Novak grabbed a bottle of hand sanitizer from the glove box and doused his hands with it. He rarely got sick and didn’t want to start now.
“What are the options, boss?”
“I need to talk to her, and I can’t do that until she’s better.” McKenzie put his hands on his hips.
The medic jumped out of the vehicle. “My advice would be to get the nearest doctor to pay a house call. I can set her up with a saline drip and get fluids inside her. If she needs to be hospitalized, we can arrange it. If it’s the flu without any complications a hospital would send her home anyway and, as she lives in a tent that is probably about to be torn apart by evidence techs, she’ll be homeless. At best we might lose her in the system, at worst she could die on the streets. She’s probably better off somewhere close by where we can keep an eye on her.”
McKenzie frowned. “She can have my room in the ranch house. It has a private bathroom. I want to limit potential exposure of FBI personnel, but keep her somewhere we can question her. I want to know how she knows TJ. What her friend was doing on the mountain. Attend to her until I can get a doctor out here. Assume she’s contagious for now.”
“What if she is the one who killed her friend?” Novak asked quietly.
“We’ll keep the door locked to help with quarantine and put a guard on it. I’ll talk to the attorney general and get the director to sign off on a nurse.”
“He might want her locked up in a holding facility,” Novak said.
“I’ll convince him. I don’t want to spook her. If she goes into the system, she might clam up. I need to know what the hell happened on that mountain,” McKenzie said.
“And why she thought TJ might be the one to rescue her,” Novak murmured, watching his boss stride away.
Chapter Eleven
Charlotte bit down on her impatience when all she really wanted to do was crawl into the tent and start investigating. They finally had a lead on the dead woman. Someone had to know what she was doing up on the mountain and who might be responsible for her death. Kayla definitely had information they needed to gather. She sent McKenzie images of both women’s drivers’ licenses. Brenna Longie and Kayla Russell. Then she forced herself to stand still and stay outside. Without backup, she needed to keep her eyes on her surroundings, so she wasn’t ambushed by someone with a hidden agenda.
Most of the activists had moved away, but there were a few stragglers.
“Did you know the women who lived in this tent?” she asked a woman nearby who was dismantling her site.
The woman, wearing dirty jeans, a purple fleece, and well-worn hiking boots stood and wiped her hands on her thighs.
“My name is Charlotte Blood. Did you hear about what happened
up on the mountain?”
“Yes.” The woman edged a step closer, and Charlotte held out her hand to shake.
“Judith Thomas.” The woman introduced herself even though she looked like she didn’t want to give her name. Habit and social norms were useful in Charlotte’s line of work. “There was a shootout between the cops and the yahoos who live inside that concrete monstrosity. We heard the shots. It was terrifying. Then the news last night said they found a dead woman. Was it Brenna?”
Charlotte felt a wave of sympathy at the sadness she saw in Judith’s eyes. She pulled out her phone and brought up a tightly cropped image of the victim’s face as she lay on the autopsy table.
After a reluctant glance, Judith bent over, bracing her hands on her knees as she took a deep breath. “Yes. That’s Brenna. Oh, she was a such sweet girl.”
“I am sorry for your loss,” Charlotte said gently.
“How did she die? Was she shot?”
“We’ll know more after the autopsy. We’re still trying to figure out exactly what happened on the mountain yesterday.”
Grief was a powerful emotion that took time to grapple into submission. Longer to move through. Silence was the greatest tool a negotiator had. Charlotte waited patiently as Judith wiped at the tears that had started to flow.
Seconds ticked by. Ten, twenty. Thirty.
“The girls have been here since spring,” Judith said weepily. “They were both quiet and a little shy. They cared deeply enough to come out here and try to save the old growth forests, but they kept to themselves and didn’t want to get involved with camp politics.”
“Camp politics,” Charlotte mirrored.
“Yes.” Judith laughed bitterly. “Believe it or not there are people here—usually men—who believe they get to tell us how we should behave. They say we can only act effectively if a committee agrees on what action to take.” She looked out across the array of tents. “Most of us came out here to protest, to raise our voices against huge conglomerates, and we end up silenced by our fellow protesters.”
“There was infighting amongst the protestors?”
Cold Wicked Lies: A gripping romantic thriller that will have you hooked (Cold Justice - Crossfire Book 3) Page 10