Page 10 of Wild Temple (Tyson Wild Thriller #84)

B y the look on her face, I got the impression that spelunking in a narrow, dark cave wasn't Brooke's first choice of activity. But she followed me anyway.

I crawled through the tight passage, the beam of my flashlight leading the way.

The air was damp and wet. The cave meandered a bit, and the sound of rushing water echoed off the slick walls.

After a short distance, the cave widened, and the air grew even more damp.

A shaft of light penetrated the darkness.

The tunnel finally opened to an area where we could both stand. We were in a small cavern behind one of the waterfalls. The mist swirled the air, catching rays of light. A wall of water offered a distorted view into the basin.

The stone floor was slick as we approached the waterfall. Brooke took my arm to steady herself.

It was likely the kidnappers had taken Hannah through this route and escaped .

We turned around and went back the way we came, returning to the main trail. We picked up both backpacks and lugged them the long way around to the front of the waterfall.

The place was still empty and devoid of tourists.

I checked my cell phone but couldn't get a signal here.

We climbed up the steep steps back toward the parking lot. It certainly was a lot easier coming down than going up. My quads burned, and my heart pumped. I was out of breath by the time I made it back to the golden statue and the stone monkeys.

We reached the parking lot, and I checked my phone for cell reception again.

Still nothing.

Not a single bar of service out here.

It probably wouldn't have done much good to call the cops. It would take an hour to get here, and I didn't expect they would do much. We’d file a report when we got back to Jatala.

There were two mopeds in the parking lot, but the van was gone.

"Were they driving the van that was parked here earlier?" I asked.

Brooke nodded. "We met them in the parking lot. Bayu led us down to the waterfall, and we took the trail through the chasm. ”

Her eyes filled again as she looked at Hannah’s scooter. A painful reminder that her friend was gone.

The kidnappers had likely injected her with ketamine or some other fast-acting sedative.

It would cause rapid dissociation, impaired motor control, and altered perception.

Hannah would have been disoriented within a minute or so.

From there, they could have dragged her through the chasm, taken her through the cave that led back to the waterfall, and absconded with her up the steps to the parking lot.

But those two little runts would have had a hell of a time with the steps.

Carrying a sedated girl up the steep steps wouldn’t have been easy.

Maybe they had help. Maybe someone else was waiting for them.

We hopped on our scooters, and Brooke followed me back to Jatala.

We drove to the local police station. The place buzzed with activity.

Faded powder blue paint peeled from the concrete walls.

Plastic chairs lined the waiting room, and the official seal was painted on the wall.

Phones rang, and fingers typed on old computers.

Shafts of light filtered through the blinds, and the smell of coffee drifted through the air.

Brooke gave the skinny little guy behind the desk all the details, but he didn't seem overly worked up about it. She gave him the men’s names and descriptions and recounted exactly what happened.

The officer made notes. Each time he read them back to her, he had some detail wrong. Brooke had to make corrections.

"We’ll look into it," the officer said, ready to move on to the next case .

"You’ve got to do something," Brooke demanded. "They kidnapped Hannah!"

"Are you sure she's not romantically involved with one of these men?” he said with doubtful eyes.

Brooke’s jaw flexed with anger. Steam was about to come out of her ears. "No! She's not romantically involved with one of these men. Have you not heard a word I've said? They injected her with something! They attacked both of us. I escaped.”

He regarded her with skepticism, then glanced at me. "Who are you?"

"He's a friend who saved me from these assholes," Brooke said, her face red with rage.

"Like I said, we’ll look into it. I'm sure your friend will turn up.”

"How is she going to turn up if she was drugged?”

"Does your friend have a history of drug use?”

Brooke did her best to keep her cool. “No! Neither one of us uses drugs. Are you not listening? I'm telling you, they injected her with something.”

The officer scribbled a few more notes on the page. "Is there anything else?”

"We met Bayu at Nomad.” She pointed to the street. "Less than a block from here. I'm sure he's going to be back on the street recruiting more unsuspecting girls. They're clearly part of a trafficking ring. ”

The officer made another note. "Do you have a picture of your friend?”

Brooke launched the photos app on her phone, found an image of Hannah, and sent it to the officer's phone.

"I'll put her picture up on our website and get the word out to all the local officers and agencies. In the meantime, I would contact the US Embassy.”

"So, that's it? That's all you're going to do?”

He gave her an annoyed look. "What do you want me to do?”

"I want you to send a squad of police officers out to the waterfall and search the jungle for my friend.”

"If your friend has been abducted, I doubt she’s still in the jungle. You told me they left in a white van. But you don’t have a license plate.”

Brooke growled at her wit’s end. “No. I don’t have a license plate. I never saw them leave in the van, but the van was gone when we got back to the parking lot.”

“So she could have left with the men in another vehicle?”

“Anything is possible. And she didn’t leave with them. She was taken.”

The officer scribbled more notes.

I put a comforting hand on Brooke’s shoulder. "Let's go to the Embassy.”

I thanked the officer and asked him to check recent arrests for anyone named Isabella. It was a long shot, but worth checking. She’d likely be traveling under a cover identity, but might stick to her first name. It was common practice in undercover or covert situations.

No one with that name had been arrested in the last week or so.

I escorted Brooke out of the police station, and we stepped onto the sidewalk. Tourists strolled up and down Sunset Row.

Brooke sobbed. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I gotta call Hannah's mother and tell her that her daughter has been kidnapped. How am I supposed to do that? This whole trip was my idea. It's all my fault.”

"It's going to be okay," I said, having no business making such assurances. I felt bad for Brooke. I couldn't just leave her in the lurch. "I'll do everything I can to help you find Hannah.”

Brooke looked up at me with grateful eyes. "You've done so much already. That would mean the world to me.”

"I'm already searching for one person. Why not make it two?”

She smiled and gave me a hug. More tears spilled from her lids and dampened my shirt.

We set out to find the US Embassy, but I wasn’t holding my breath that anything would come of it.