Page 22 of The Lovely and the Lost
In the old man’s presence, Gabriel didn’t poke and prod at me, but he did seem to get some pleasure out of watching me. No matter what I did or how hard I stared back, he didn’t look away. I kept hoping Jude would explain to Bales thatSaskiawas my partner, that I didn’t need Gabriel, and that if I had to work with another human, I would have preferred one I knew.
Instead, Jude decided to make conversation. “If you were a crustacean,” he asked Gabriel, “what kind would you be?”
Gabriel blinked. Twice. “I’m going to pretend that’s a rhetorical question.”
Jude grinned. “But it’snota rhetorical question.”
“For what it’s worth,” Free interjected, “the correct answer is usually lobster.” Without waiting for a reply, she asked Bales about the specs of the helicopter awaiting us at the rangers’ station.
“Two-blade, dual engine,” Gabriel answered on the old man’s behalf. “Military-grade.”
I absorbed that information without joining in the conversation that followed. The helicopter was a means to an end.
A too-small, too-loud means to an end.
Knowing what to expect didn’t keep my shoulders from squaring or my teeth from grinding against each other as the car came to a stop and I took in our ride. The deafening roar of the blades saved me from having to speak to Gabriel—or anyone else—as we loaded up. The helicopter was a seven-seater—bigger than most of what I’d encounter if I went into SAR.
Still not big enough.
I didn’t let my heart race. I didn’t let the tight quarters matter any more than the company. Fear was one thing. Adrenaline was another.
Adrenaline, I could do.
Focused and in control, I latched myself into the seat. Saskia sat at attention between my legs. I kept my hand on her collar, but she seemed to sense that there was no leeway here—if any of our K9s showed the least bit of anxiety at the noise or tight space, that was game over, before we’d even taken off.
After a safety check, the pilot nodded to Bales, who was observing from a distance, then coaxed the aircraft slowly off the ground. The front of the copter tilted forward, and my harness bit gently into my shoulders as the world below us got smaller and smaller. We cruised over the top of the tree line. From this vantage point, Bear Mountain didn’t just look massive; it looked ancient and unmovable, beautiful, deadly.
I could feel my pulse thrumming in my wrists, my stomach, my neck. I concentrated on the feel of Saskia’s fur beneath my fingers as the copter angled hard to the right. The mountain was a blur of colors—silver and white and green. The trees were dense enough on this side that I wasn’t sure where—or if—we could touch down, but slowly, a flat brown area came into view.
“Sorrow’s Pass is about a half-mile hike inward,” our pilot informed us as we touched down. “This is as close as I can get you. Exact coordinates—”
“I know Sorrow’s Pass,” Gabriel said, and somehow, the words weren’t lost under the sound of the slowing blades.
Thirty seconds later, we were feet-on-the-ground, and the helicopter was in the air again.
“I am only mostly as motion sick as anticipated,” Jude said, looking distinctly paler than usual. “I count that as a win.”
“This way.” Gabriel barely looked back at the rest of us as he hoisted his pack onto his shoulders and headed across the packed dirt toward the tree line. For a good ten minutes, we followed him, Jude and Gabriel and Free taking turns filling the silence. The trek to the pass was steeper than I’d expected—not for the faint of heart. Free, Jude, and I had trained for this. Endurance was almost as important in search and rescue as the ability to assess the terrain and know your limits—and your K9’s.
“A little kid wouldn’t have come this way,” Gabriel commented as rocky forest flattened out in a clearing. “Obviously. If she was coming in from the southeast, there’s a path.”
“Path,” Jude murmured. “What is this path you speak of? I am abigfan of paths.”
Free tossed her blond ponytail over one shoulder. “I’m guessing the scenic route takes a bit longer and isn’t helicopter accessible.”
Gabriel glanced over at her. “Good guess.”
* * *
Cady met us at ground zero. There were a half dozen rangers in the area, already combing through the surrounding woods and calling Bella’s name. Instinctively, I began to scan the scene for the development in the case that had brought us here. I’d expected physical tracks, or another piece of our target’s jacket.
I hadn’t expected blood.
Gabriel knelt to the ground, touching the tips of his fingers to the dirt at his feet as he observed the trail. “Shallow wound.” There was no emotion in his voice, no hint that he was talking about a little girl. “Blood’s dripping, not pooling. And whatever happened, it didn’t slow her down.”
“That was my read as well.” Mac approached. He introduced himself to Gabriel.
“Any reason you’re standing around here instead of searching?” That was apparently Gabriel’s version of an introduction. “I somehow doubt that ‘wait for teenagers to arrive’ is search and rescue SOP.”