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“We’d like to speak to Mr. Edison Nash,” Corrie told the housekeeper.
“He not here. What this about? He in trouble?”
“No one’s in trouble,” Corrie said, speaking calmly. “We’re just hoping he can help us with a few questions. Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“When’s he due to return?”
“He was supposed to be back yesterday.”
“You have no idea where he went?”
“Camping. He got the gear and they pack it in the truck.”
“‘They’? Who was he with?”
“The tall skinny friend. I not remember his name.”
“Skip?”
“That’s it.”
Nora broke in. “He didn’t say where they were going?”
“No. They look at maps and then they leave.”
“Which maps?”
“They in the study.”
The housekeeper led them into Edison’s grand study. There, on a large marble coffee table, were scattered several USGS topographical maps. Nora went over and had a look. They were of Gallina Canyon and the badlands to the east. Squinting more closely, she made out pencil marks tracing a set of roads that led through the fracking badlands to a dead end at the eastern rim of Gallina Canyon.
“Oh boy,” said Nora. She turned to the housekeeper. “Did they take Edison’s car?”
“Truck.”
“What kind?” Nora asked.
“A brown F-150.”
Nora paused. “Why did they go camping?”
“Mr. Nash often go camping. He like to see old ruins.”
Corrie glanced at Nora, who looked more worried than ever. “What now?” she asked.
Nora checked her watch. “It’s just one. If we leave now, we can be at the trailhead by four thirty and down into the canyon by seven.”
“You mean go get them?”
“Yes.”
Corrie said nothing, thinking this was an overreaction. Skip wasn’t the most reliable individual—but he was an adult, and she had long felt Nora was too protective of her brother. “Maybe we should wait until tomorrow and see if they show up. Doesn’t it seem likely they just decided to stay a little longer than planned?”
“Maybe. But I just don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“What do you think they might be doing? They’re just camping, right?”