Without A Trace (Echo Lake Book 1)

by Amanda Stevens

  That had been the plan, but instead, Rae sat stuck in a ditch.

  Despite the full moon, the thick canopy overhead blocked the light. She grew uneasy, imagining someone easing along the side of the car to ambush her. Checking the locks, she glanced in the rearview mirror. No one was there. No one had followed her. Still, she removed her dad’s pistol from the backpack of money and gripped the handle. He had insisted she arm herself before leaving the house. Rae didn’t own a weapon, but she knew how to shoot. Rattlers and copperheads were prevalent on the ranch. She’d never been one to go out looking for trouble, but she hadn’t shied away from protecting herself and her animals.

  Clutching the weapon, she scoured her surroundings. The woods seemed to close in on her. She could imagine all sorts of creatures slinking through the trees, but the only predator that worried her at the moment was the human kind.

  Just sit for a moment and let the motor cool off.

  She forced herself to count slowly to ten before retrying the ignition. Thankfully, the engine caught, and with a bit of skill and patience, she maneuvered the vehicle out of the ditch and back onto the road.

  Now take a breath and calm down.

  She could still get to the Ruins in time if she didn’t make any more stupid mistakes. If she could reel in her imagination and stay focused. One step at a time. One mile at a time. She wouldn’t allow herself to think about Sophie or that video. She wouldn’t entertain for even a second what might have happened to her niece after the footage had been shot. For now she had to believe that Sophie was still alive. She had to get to the Ruins and make the drop. One step at a time. One mile at a time.

  Up ahead, the trees thinned and she caught a glimpse of the bridge. Fear rippled across her nerve endings as sweat beaded between her shoulder blades. She had no idea whom or what she might encounter inside that creepy building, but she couldn’t allow herself to think about that, either. Wiping clammy palms on her jeans, she told herself everything would be fine. The kidnappers were only after the money. No reason to hurt her or Sophie or anyone else so long as they got what they wanted.

  Pulling to the shoulder of the road, she eased into the trees until she was certain any chance passersby couldn’t spot her vehicle. Moonlight shimmered brilliantly off the lake. She wouldn’t need to use a flashlight. She grabbed one anyway and tucked the pistol into the waistband of her jeans. Hitching the straps of the heavy backpack over her shoulders, she tried to keep the weight balanced as she skidded down the embankment. Twice she lost her footing and went all the way to the ground, but she made it to the bank without a broken bone or turned ankle. That was something at least.

  Trudging along the treacherous path, she kept a sharp eye. Even the sound of a faint splash chilled her to the bone. She turned to search the woods. Every shadow, every movement set her heart to pounding. She wanted to use the flashlight to chase away those shadows, but she couldn’t take a chance on being seen from one of the houses. So she drew another breath and plunged ahead.

  The smokestack rising through the treetops guided her toward her destination. Scrambling up the ridge, she paused momentarily to search the gaping windows. Nothing stirred. The night was very quiet, but she knew danger was only an arm’s length away. She was being watched. She had no doubt that someone stood at one of those windows tracking her every move.

  Adjusting the backpack, Rae headed for the same arched entry she and Tom had used on that first night. How she wished he were here with her now. How she wished she had confided in him about the ransom demand, but too late now. For all she knew, Sophie might be waiting for her inside, and that thought buoyed Rae’s courage.

  She waited until she was inside to turn on the flashlight, running the beam over the walls and floor and finally up to the ceiling, where Preacher stared down at her.

  Moving as quietly as she could, she started up the stairs, testing each step before she applied her full weight. Then she paused at the top, once again using her flashlight to reconnoiter before she eased down the corridor. Somewhere behind her a floorboard creaked, and she whirled, her hand going to the gun hidden beneath her T-shirt. She didn’t draw the weapon. Instead, she held her breath and waited. Nothing moved. Even the rats had gone silent.

  She turned and continued down the corridor to the elevator shaft. Shrugging off the backpack, she dropped it to the floor and then hovered at the edge to shine her light down into the abyss.

  Glassy eyes gleamed up at her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rae teetered at the edge. If Tom hadn’t grabbed her arm, he was certain she would have pitched headfirst into the shaft. She turned with a gasp, her eyes wide with terror. She tried to fight him off, and for a moment, he worried they might both lose their footing.

  He clasped her wrists. “It’s me, damn it. Hold still.”

  She froze at the sound of his voice. “Tom? What are you doing here?”

  “I was wondering the same thing about you. Seems like we’ve been asking each other that question a lot lately.”

  Moonlight flooded in through the windows and the gaping roof. She looked pale and distressed as she wrested her hands from his grip. “You can’t be here!”

  “Why not?” He studied her in the pale light. Her fear had turned to flat-out terror. “What’s going on, Rae?”

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  “What I’ve done?” He wanted to give her a little shake, wake her up to the dangers of coming out here alone in the middle of the night where three people had gone missing. Where his own sister had been left for dead. Instead, he kept his distance and forced a neutral tone. “Seems you and I need to have a talk.”

  A bit of the old Rae surfaced and she looked as if she wanted to lash out at him, but then she whirled back to the shaft as a shudder ripped through. “There’s a body at the bottom of the shaft.”

  He glanced past her to the opening. “You mean in the basement? It’s not a body. We checked it out the other night, remember? It’s just a pile of rags and debris.”

  “This is different. I saw the eyes.” She swayed and he caught her elbow. “It can’t be Sophie. I did everything I was supposed to.”

  Tom had a feeling she was talking to herself now. Pulling her gently back from the edge, he took out his flashlight and angled the powerful beam through drifting shadows until he could see all the way to the bottom of the shaft. Someone was down there all right. He spotted twisted arms and legs. A contorted face.

  “Is it Sophie?” Rae asked in a fearful voice.

  “No,” Tom said grimly. “It’s Marty Booker.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Her hand shot to her heart. “I didn’t mean... I know how that sounds. It’s just...” She closed her eyes. “Thank God,” she whispered.

  “I know,” Tom said.

  She stepped back up to the rim, steadier now, but her voice was still taut with tension. “Do you think he fell?”

  Tom remembered the way Marty had leaped into the shaft and agilely swung down from the rope to avoid him on that first night. The man had known what he was doing. He’d timed his jump perfectly. Why would he suddenly get careless now and miss his mark?

  Putting away his flashlight, Tom reached for the rope.

  “You’re going down there?” Rae asked on a sharp breath. “What if you fall?”

  “I’m not going to fall. I need to get a closer look and I need you to call 911.”

  His request seemed to take her aback. Her eyes widened. “But... People will come. The EMTs, cops...”

  “That’s the idea. We need to get that man some help. He could still be alive, for all we know.” Doubtful given the twisted position of the body, but Tom had to be certain. He gave her a hard scrutiny. “What’s going on, Rae? Why don’t you want to make that call?”

  It took some effort, but she seemed to shake herself out of that odd lethargy. Her gaze wen
t back into the shaft as her voice softened with remorse. “I wasn’t thinking. Of course I’ll make the call. There’s nothing else I can do right now.”

  He wanted to ask what she meant by that. Something was definitely going on with her tonight. Her clandestine trip made little sense to Tom, though suspicion was beginning to niggle. Outwardly, she’d quickly regained control of her nerves, but she still wasn’t herself. Tom clung to the rope and wondered. Who texted her earlier when he’d stood on her front porch? What kind of message had driven her headlong out to the ranch and then to the Ruins in the middle of the night? And what the hell was in that backpack?

  But those questions and all the others buzzing around in his head would have to wait until he checked the body and secured the area. “Keep your light trained downward so that I can at least see where I’m going.”

  He could hear her on the phone as he rappelled down the shaft. When he got low enough, he dropped to the ground with a thud and hunkered beside the body. Marty Booker’s head lolled at a sickening angle. The eyes were open and staring, his hair matted with blood. Tom searched for a pulse. The skin was already cooling, but rigor mortis had yet to set in. He hadn’t been dead long.

  Tom gazed up into Rae’s flashlight beam, shaking his head to let her know the man was gone.

  Her hushed voice echoed down to him. “He’s dead?”

  “Looks like a broken neck.”

  “Then he must have fallen.”

  Tom wasn’t so sure about that. Maybe someone had figured out that Marty Booker saw something he shouldn’t have on the night Sophie Cavanaugh went missing.

  Just as Tom turned back to the body, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He whipped around, pinpointing a crouching shadow for one split second before the silhouette dashed for the outside steps. Tom lunged after him, dodging debris and rusty equipment before sprinting up the stairs behind him.

  Arms and legs pumping frantically, the man headed in a full run toward the woods. Tom dived, hitting him square in the back, and he crashed to the ground with a pained grunt. Tom was on him in a flash, pinning his arms to his sides while he pressed his face in the dirt. All the fight seemed to go out of him then and he lay gasping for breath until Tom eased the pressure and rolled him over.

  Dylan Moody threw his arms in front of him as if to ward off Tom’s phantom blows. “I didn’t do anything. I swear. I didn’t do it.” He tried to scramble away, but Tom yanked him back down.

  “Just stay right where you are. Got it?”

  “I didn’t kill him. You have to believe me. He was dead when I found him.”

  Tom glared down at him in the moonlight. “Then why did you run?”

  The kid looked frantic. “Because I didn’t know who you were! I thought you might try to kill me, too!”

  Tom grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. “What are you doing out here this time of night?”

  “Nothing!” Dylan turned and spit blood from a cut lip, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I just came out here to look for Sophie, that’s all.”

  Tom handed him a handkerchief. “Why did you think she’d be here?”

  Dylan blotted his lip with a trembling hand. The action provoked an unexpected response in Tom. He’d been young and scared once, too, and his first inclination was to give the boy the benefit of the doubt, but there was a dead body in the basement and a girl was still missing.

  “You’re all right,” Tom said. He doubted it was the kid’s first split lip with Dwight Moody for an old man. “I need you to start talking.”

  Dylan spread his hands in supplication. “I was desperate, okay? I’ve been out searching for her all day and I didn’t know where else to look. I’d already walked the woods all the way to the river and then I went up and down the lake on both sides. I didn’t find her,” he added unnecessarily. “It’s like she vanished into thin air.”

  Tom nodded toward the basement entrance. “How long were you down there?”

  “Not long. Five or ten minutes, I guess. I heard voices and then I saw the body in the elevator shaft. I got scared and hid.”

  “You didn’t see anyone else here tonight?”

  “Just you.”

  “How’d you get here? I didn’t see a vehicle out on the road.”

  “I left my car on the other side of the bridge. There’s a place where you can pull off into the woods.”

  “Why take the time to hide your car if you were searching for Sophie?”

  Dylan seemed stumped for a moment. “I didn’t even think about that. It’s where I always park when I come out here.”

  “To play the game, you mean.”

  “Yeah.”

  Tom’s voice hardened. “That’s not the real reason you came out here tonight, is it? You kids aren’t still playing some kind of game.”

  “No. I told you. I came looking for Sophie.”

  Tom nodded but he was far from convinced. Something wasn’t adding up. The kid seemed even more nervous than Rae. Strange how they’d both ended up at the Ruins on the same night at the same time. “You weren’t afraid that whoever took Sophie might still be lurking about in those woods? Or that a property owner might see you trespassing and decide to shoot first and ask questions later?”

  He met Tom’s gaze straight on, squaring his shoulders as if trying to put them on equal footing. “I thought about all those things, but I didn’t care. I had to look for her anyway. It’s my fault she’s gone.”

  Tom rested a hand on his belt where normally his holster would hang. Inclining his head, he stared back at Dylan through narrowed eyes. It was a stance he’d seen his dad assume many times and it had never failed to intimidate Tom. “How is Sophie’s disappearance your fault?”

  The kid’s gaze dropped. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? If I hadn’t agreed to play that stupid game, none of this would have happened.”

  “So you decided to come out here and look for Sophie in the middle of the night even though you knew the police had been over every square inch of this place for two solid days.”

  Dylan’s gaze came back up. “The cops don’t always get things right.”

  True enough.

  Tom glanced back at the looming structure, wondering again about the timing of the night’s events. At some point before Rae had entered the building, Marty Booker had fallen or been pushed into the elevator shaft while Dylan Moody had been conveniently hiding in the basement. Neither Dylan nor Rae had come clean with him yet about their real reasons for being here and he was getting a little tired of their caginess.

  Just then, Rae came hurrying around the corner of the building and froze when she saw Tom and Dylan in the moonlight. Then she ran toward them.

  “Dylan?” She sounded breathless and upset. “What are you doing here?” She turned to Tom. “What’s going on?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

  She came to a dead stop as if paralyzed by a sudden revelation. Then her gaze went from Tom to Dylan and back to Tom as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was thinking. “Where did he come from?”

  “Dylan? He was hiding in the basement.”

  Something flickered across her face that Tom couldn’t define. “Is Marty Booker dead?”

  “Yes.”

  She turned on Dylan. “Did you kill him?”

  He shook his head violently. “I didn’t kill anyone! How many times do I have to say it?”

  Tom put up a hand. “Let’s stay calm until we figure out what happened here.”

  “I think it’s pretty obvious what happened,” Rae said.

  “What’s she talking about?” Dylan asked. “Why am I being blamed for something I didn’t do?”

  “Keep quiet, both of you. I need a minute.” Tom stepped back, making sure Rae and Dylan were in his line of sight while he called the station
. In the minute or so it took him to explain the situation to the dispatcher, Rae approached Dylan and spoke to him in a low, furious tone. Whatever she said appeared to shake the kid up. He looked pale and scared in the moonlight.

  “What’s going on?” Tom demanded as he slipped his phone back in his pocket.

  Rae’s eyes were as cold as a steel moon in January. That shook Tom up. He’d never seen her look quite so much like West Cavanaugh. “I told him if you didn’t make him talk, I would.”

  Her tone worried Tom. “I wouldn’t be too hasty with the threats if I were you. He says he came out here looking for Sophie.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “Is there some reason why you don’t?”

  She cut her gaze back to Dylan. Tom almost expected her to lunge for the kid the way she’d gone after Marty Booker in the boiler room. Instead, she said in a deadly quiet voice, “There’s only one reason he would have been down in that basement tonight. He’s the one who took Sophie.”

  Dylan jerked back at the accusation. “What? No! I would never do anything to hurt Sophie!”

  “I didn’t say you hurt her. I said you took her.”

  “That’s crazy! I didn’t take Sophie and I didn’t kill that guy in the elevator shaft. I didn’t do anything but play a stupid game! You can blame me for that. I deserve it,” he said in a rush. “I should never have let Sophie come out here alone. But I didn’t take her. Why would I? I would never hurt her like that. I wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  “Take it easy.” Tom could hear sirens in the distance.

  Rae would have none of Dylan’s denials. “You were waiting in the basement when I arrived. That can’t be a coincidence.”