Page 27 of Wilderness Search (Eagle Mountain: Unsolved Mysteries #2)

Willa and Aaron arrived at the camp just after sunset.

The bonfire on the shore of the lake sent sparks into the sky, the wood snapping like twigs underfoot.

They heard the buzz of conversation as they crossed the grass toward the shore, high children’s voices soaring in the clear evening.

The scent of woodsmoke perfumed the air, and a cool breeze raised goose bumps on Willa’s bare arms, making her reach for the sweater she had brought.

“Did you go to camp when you were a kid?” Aaron asked.

“No.”

“Did you want to?”

The memory came to her clearly—a summer when her two best friends were going to a sleep-away camp for two weeks. While she stayed home.

“One year I wanted to go,” she said. “But it wasn’t possible. I didn’t even ask my dad.”

“Because you knew he couldn’t afford it?”

“I have no idea. But if I left, who would cook dinner for him and my brother, or do the laundry, or pack his lunch?” She shook her head.

“Looking back, I can’t believe I saw my father as so helpless.

Surely he would have found a way to look after himself and Gary while I was away.

But I took that on as my responsibility and I couldn’t let it go. ”

“He let you take it on.”

“He had a hard time after my mother died. It was probably easier to let me handle some of the things he didn’t have the energy to do.” She didn’t want to think about that sad time, or about how things might have worked out differently. “What about you?” she asked. “Did you go to camp?”

“Boy Scouts. Camp Walla Walla or Winemuka or something like that. Two weeks of canoeing in deep water, archery with arrows with sharp points and dangerous crafts involving leather and sharp knives. All in the hands of preadolescent boys to which everything was a potential weapon. I’m amazed we all survived. ”

She laughed. “I think Mountain Kingdom is tamer than that. I didn’t see a single sharp knife or arrow with a point in my visits here.”

They reached the edge of the bonfire. A trio of girls were roasting marshmallows. Willa recognized Juliet, her purple cast covered with scrawled signatures.

“If you want a marshmallow, you have to ask Veronica,” Juliet said. “She won’t let you help yourself.”

“Because some people take too many,” a second girl, with black braids, said.

“Boys take too many,” the third girl, a pixie-cut blonde, said, and all three dissolved into giggles.

Aaron touched Willa’s shoulder. “I see someone I need to talk to,” he said.

“Fine. I’m going to get a marshmallow.”

He headed toward a cluster of cabins and she walked over to a folding table where Veronica sat, looking bored.

“Could I have a couple of marshmallows, please?” Willa asked.

Veronica handed her a bent coat hanger with two marshmallows impaled on the end. “I thought you were a nurse,” she said. “Are you a cop, too? They told us there would be some cops here tonight.”

“I’m friends with a cop.” She glanced toward Aaron, who stood halfway between the bonfire and the cabins, talking with another counselor, a young man with wire-rimmed glasses.

Veronica followed her gaze. “Lucky you,” she said. “He’s hot. I noticed him yesterday, when they were searching the place.”

“Did they find anything?”

“You tell me.” She shrugged. “I don’t think there’s anything to find. This place is beyond dull. Olivia probably ran away because she was bored out of her mind.”

“Were you her counselor?”

“One of them. And before you ask, I already told the cops she was normal as could be before she ran away. No tears. No moping.”

“I heard she was sneaking out of her cabin for a while before she disappeared.”

Her expression grew sullen. “I don’t know anything about that. I’m not these kids’ jailer. And I have to sleep sometime.”

“If you had to guess, who do you think she was sneaking off to see? Did she have a boyfriend?”

“I never saw her so much as talking to a boy. Some of these girls, they’re regular flirts. They hit on the male counselors, even—guys who are four and five years older.”

“Did Olivia do that?”

“No. She was still a little girl. Which is a good thing, you know? She was kind of a tomboy. Athletic. Not afraid of spiders and stuff. She was having a lot of fun at camp. I don’t know why she left.”

A pair of boys approached, demanding marshmallows, and Veronica turned away.

Willa returned to the fire. She held her marshmallows over the blaze. Within seconds, one burst into flames. She blew it out, then popped it into her mouth—one side scorched, the interior half-melted, the other side cold and pillowy. Exactly as she remembered.

She roasted the other marshmallow and ate it, then looked around for something else to do. Aaron had disappeared, though she spotted a couple of other deputies, conspicuous by their alert attitudes and watchful gazes, despite their civilian clothing.

She scanned the crowd for anyone else she knew and her gaze came to rest on a girl who stood by herself on the edge of the firelight.

The girl’s stillness made Willa look more closely.

She had the air of someone waiting for something—but not necessarily something good.

She was tall and thin, growing too fast to have yet filled out, shiny brown hair hanging straight to the middle of her back.

She wore a green Mountain Kingdom T-shirt and khaki shorts, and scuffed green sneakers.

A boy ran up and said something to her, laughing.

She scowled and slapped at him and he ran away, still laughing.

Then something caught the girl’s attention from somewhere in the darkness. She looked away, then back, then darted off, disappearing quickly into the shadows.

Was she meeting someone? Another boy? Or had something else attracted her? Could it be Olivia, signaling a friend to meet her and bring food or a message or something else?

Heart pounding, Willa hurried after the girl. She had lost sight of her in the darkness, then she heard soft footsteps, moving toward one of the pit toilets. She slowed. Maybe that’s all the girl had been doing—going to the restroom.

Unlike the other pit toilets, this one didn’t have a light over the door. Why purposely choose one in the darkness? Willa stood next to a thick-trunked tree and waited. The door to the toilet didn’t open, but the shadows to the side of the little building thickened as the girl stepped into them.

There was a scuffling sound. A sharp “no!” Willa started. There had been fear in that one word, and she felt an answering fear grip her throat.

She started to turn away—to go for help. Then another sound, like weeping. Willa still held the coat hanger she had used to roast the marshmallows. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it would have to do.

She rushed toward the pit toilet. “Hey!” she shouted. “What’s going on back there?”

More scuffling, and one high-pitched scream. Footsteps raced away—someone young and light. The girl. Then strong arms grabbed Willa.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a low voice growled, but before she could answer, a hand clamped over her mouth.

“Was it like this last week when your brother was here?” Aaron had spotted Wade Lawson and pulled him aside.

Wade glanced back at the bonfire—a five-foot wide, four-foot high blaze encircled by a double stack of rocks, the flames licking several feet into the night air. Kids crowded close, waving marshmallow sticks, talking, and laughing.

“Yeah. It’s the same every week. Bonfire, kids, singing, marshmallows. Later one of the counselors will play guitar and lead a sing-along. Someone will tell a scary story. Then we’ve got scared kids hyped up on sugar that we have to take back to the cabins and try to settle down.”

“About what time did Trevor leave?”

“Early. Maybe an hour in.”

Aaron checked his watch. “It’s seven o’clock. Did he leave before or after that?”

“About that, I guess. Maybe a little after? It was just getting dark. When the sun gets below the mountains, it gets dark fast.”

“And you say he left here and headed for the pit toilet?”

“Yeah. That direction.” Wade pointed to their left.

“And I never saw him alive again. He was fine and definitely sober, yet you people tell me he got wasted, got in his car and drove off the pass. I can’t even wrap my head around that.

” He grabbed at his hair. “It’s like you’re talking about somebody else. ”

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said. “It must be tough being here, so soon after it happened.”

“It sucks, but I don’t have a choice. I’ve got a cabin full of kids to look after.” He glanced over Aaron’s shoulder. “I have to go. Malcolm! What did I tell you about burning holes in your shirt with that coat hanger?”

Aaron looked toward the row of pit toilets clustered under the trees. Three log-sided sheds, painted green, each with an LED light over the door.

Wait. There was a fourth. The light over this one was burned out. Something moved beside this one—a big shadow. A man-size shadow, struggling with something. Aaron started toward the scene, walking at first. Then he heard a scream and broke into a run.

Willa grabbed at the hand clamped over her mouth and tried to pull it away.

Whoever had hold of her was big. And strong.

He jerked her off her feet and started dragging her, one arm clamped over her throat, cutting off her air.

She continued to bat at him feebly, until he struck her with his fist. She reeled, vision blurring, but concentrated on keeping her wits about her.

She remembered she had the coat hanger in her hand.

With all the concentration she could muster, she gripped the coat hanger near the end, then waited until she felt the man’s thigh against her leg.

She reached back and plunged the wire end into his leg with as much force as she could muster.

The man swore, but not loudly, and kept his hold on her.

But he loosened it enough she was able to slide down his body, out of his grip.

He grabbed her shirt and she heard it rip as she lunged away from him.

Then she was running, into the darkened woods, ducking and weaving and praying she wouldn’t run over a cliff or into a tree.

Aaron almost collided with Scott as the camp owner staggered around the side of the pit toilet.

“Deputy!” he exclaimed, and clung to Aaron. “Did you see which way he ran?”

“Who?” Aaron helped Scott stand. The camp owner was red-faced and breathing hard, his hair disheveled.

“There was a girl. One of the campers. I saw her over here by the pit toilets. By herself. That’s not safe.

We tell the kids to always go to the pit toilets in pairs, especially at night.

Then I realized she wasn’t alone. Someone had hold of her.

She was struggling. I ran up and yelled and the guy let her go and lunged for me. He stabbed me.”

He looked down and Aaron saw the trickle of blood down Scott’s thigh. He pulled out his radio. “We’ve got a bleeding man over here by the pit toilets near the bonfire,” he said.

Jake responded that he would be right there, echoed by someone else.

Aaron stowed the radio. “What happened to the man who attacked you?” he asked.

“He ran off,” Scott said.

“Which direction?” Jake asked.

“Up toward the lodge, I think.”

Jake jogged up to them, Jamie close behind. “What’s going on?” Jake asked.

Aaron gave them a quick recap of Scott’s story. As he was talking, Scott interrupted, “Now that I’m thinking more clearly, I don’t think the camper was a girl,” he said. “It was a boy. A little boy. It can be hard to tell when they’re little, but I’m sure now it was a boy.”

“What happened to the boy?” Jamie asked.

“He ran off,” Scott said.

“Which direction did he go?” Jake asked.

Scott looked around. “I’m not sure. Back toward the bonfire?”

“Do you know the boy’s name?” Jamie asked. “Which cabin he’s in?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t. It all happened so fast.” Scott put a hand to his head. “I’m not feeling so well.” He carefully lowered himself to the ground and buried his face in his hands.

“The ambulance should be here soon,” Jamie said.

“I don’t need an ambulance.” Scott looked up. “I just need to rest a moment and I’ll be fine.”

“The paramedics are on their way,” Jamie said. “You can let them check you out.”

“I’m going to look for the guy who stabbed him,” Aaron said, and headed toward the lodge, leaving them to deal with Scott.

The grounds of the camp were deserted, with all the campers and staff at the bonfire. Aaron slowed to a jog, then a walk. The lodge was bathed in floodlights, but he didn’t see anyone up there. Scott’s attacker could be hiding in the shadows.

Aaron thought better of running into trouble and keyed the mic again. “I’m up here at the lodge, where Scott said his assailant headed,” he said. “I don’t see anyone, but it might be a good idea to get a few people up here.”

“We’re headed your way,” Gage replied.

Aaron settled in the shadow of a tree, where he hoped he would be invisible to anyone watching. After a moment he keyed the mic again. “Scott said something about one of the campers who ran away. Someone should look for him—or her, Scott seemed confused on that point—and make sure they’re okay.”

“Jamie’s already on it,” Gage said. “Sit tight until we get to you.”

He leaned against the tree and stared up at the lodge.

He hoped someone would tell Willa what was going on.

He would text her when he got the chance, but didn’t want to light up his phone, in case someone was watching.

She would be all right, he told himself.

She had always been good at looking after herself.