Forty-Four Box Set, Books 1-10 (44) (163 page)

“Are they relatives or friends? Do you have their names?”

“No, I just know they’re hurt and that time is running out for them.”

“Sorry, what’s your name?”

“Abby Craig.”

She wrote it down.

“Ms. Craig, to the best of our knowledge everyone who was up there has been accounted for. We checked and double checked permits, checked the trails and campsites in and near the fire zone, and have had no reports, up until now, of anyone being missing. What makes you think there are still people up there?”

“I saw it in a dream. And they’re not on a trail. You would probably miss them from a trail if you didn’t know where to look.”

“I see,” she said after a long pause. “Okay, can you describe what you saw?”

I was surprised by the way she said it. Her tone had changed. She sounded interested, and I didn’t pick up on the slightest
you’re so crazy
vibe.

“They’re near the fire. It’s getting closer. They’re hurt pretty bad. I’ve gone online and looked at maps and tried to match up details with things I’ve seen in the dreams and I’m pretty sure they’re somewhere just off the PCT across from Broken Top. I think they might be at a place called Separation Meadow.”

I showed her on the map.

I didn’t mention that I thought one of the hikers was dead. Two was probably better than one when you’re thinking about believing someone like me.

She wrote something. Then she sighed and put down the pen.

“As I mentioned, signs have been posted, we have walked the trails, checked those campsites. I can say with a great amount of certainty that there’s no one up there.”

“But you’re not one-hundred percent sure,” I said.

“We’re as sure as is humanly possible.”

“But—”

“Ms. Craig, I believe that you’re sincere, and I believe that you think someone is up there. But our resources are maxed out right now. We have a major fire and a lot of people risking their lives trying to put it out. What you’re giving me to go on is not enough. If someone who actually knows these men had reported them missing, and then you came in and told me what you’ve told me, well, it might be another story. But as it is, we need something more to go on. I hope you understand.”

There wasn’t much I could say to that. I realized I was asking a lot. But I tried anyway.

“I’m telling you the truth,” I said. “They’ll die if they don’t get help soon. Look, I’ve helped the police before with this kind of thing. Here with a school bombing and in Eugene last year I helped find a missing college student.”

She stared at me for a moment and then held out her hands.

“I’m sorry.”

I got up.

“Did you ever consider that it might just be that?” she said as I turned to leave.

“Be what?”

“Just a dream.”

“Unfortunately I don’t seem to have too many of those.”

CHAPTER 22

I had to keep trying.

The Deschutes County Sheriff’s Office, which was just next door, was my next stop. I looked at the building for a moment, hoping Frazier had called. I thought about what I was going to say. Whatever it was, I needed to sound confident. I walked in with purpose in my step and strode up to the counter.

“Hello, I need to talk to someone about a couple of missing hikers out on the Pacific Crest Trail in the Three Sisters area.”

“What’s your name?” a man behind the counter asked.

“Abby Craig. A friend of mine, Detective Ellis Frazier, might have called to let you know I was coming in.”

“Hold on,” he said as he stood up slowly.

He disappeared down a corridor and soon returned with a man in his fifties with a gray mustache and silver-rimmed classes.

“Miss Craig? Lieutenant Bob Willis,” the man said, extending a hand. I gave it a solid shake. “Why don’t you come back here so we can talk?”

I followed him as he led me to a room. There was a small metal table with two chairs on either side. He gestured for me to sit down.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, closing the door.

He was gone for ten minutes.

“I just got off the phone with Bend PD,” Willis said when he returned. “They’ve heard of you. Seems you knew about that bombing over at the new high school before it happened.”

Skepticism dripped from every syllable.

“Have we met before?” he asked, suddenly staring at me with a dark look.

“No, I don’t think so.”

He stared some more.

“Well, in any case, I received a call from a Detective Frazier a little while ago. He told me that you helped him find an abducted university student last year. I remember the Ross case. So you’re the unnamed party that assisted with the investigation, huh?”

I nodded. He didn’t look impressed.

“Frazier said you have psychic abilities that were instrumental in locating her and that without you, Ross would have died out there in the woods.”

“It was a team effort,” I said. “Plus, we had some luck.”

“Well, Miss Craig,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms. “I can’t say that I believe in that sort of thing. But I’m willing to be proved wrong if it means saving a life. So why don’t you give me some more details.”

I gave him a quick rundown of the visions, including how badly hurt the men appeared to be and where I thought they were and how there was ash from the fire everywhere. I also told him about my visit to the U.S. Forest Station and how they had told me that they had already checked the trails and wouldn’t go back out unless I could give them some compelling evidence.

“You don’t have anything like names or where they might be from?” he said.

“No, but I don’t think it would take much to find them. They’re on the Pacific Crest Trail, not far from Broken Top. I’ve studied maps and compared them with landmarks I saw in the visions. I believe they’re only five or six miles from the nearest trailhead at Devil’s Lake.”

He stared at me and didn’t say anything.

“You’ve got to do something,” I said. “That man is dying.”

“That man?”

“Huh?”

“You said that
man.
I thought you said there were two of them out there.”

“That’s right. There are two of them, but I’m pretty sure one of them is dead. There’s no movement and the way he looks…” I paused. “But the other one is still alive.”

Willis pursed his lips. He seemed to be thinking. He put up one finger, signaling me to wait, got up, and left the room again.

He came back a minute later with a topographic map and a highlighter.

“Why don’t you mark the spot where you think this man is,” he said, holding out the marker.

I leaned over the map and found Separation Meadow.

“I think he’s here, in this area,” I said, highlighting it. “Below this cliff.”

“I don’t know Detective Frazier, but I have no reason to doubt him,” Willis said, looking down at the map and then up at me. “The same goes for you. But at the same time, I just don’t have enough of a reason to believe you. You want me to send people out there in the middle of a fire, a fire that’s far from contained, based on nothing more than a dream. I can’t think of any way to justify it.”

“But doesn’t police work sometime involve following hunches and gut instinct?”

“Most of the time we rely on logic. And when we do follow those hunches it’s our guts we trust. Not someone off the street. No offense.”

Another dead end. I wondered how many more dead ends the man in the meadow had left. I shook my head and stood up, trying not to take these rejections personally.

“Look,” Willis said, folding the map. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll make some calls. Maybe I can ask one of the air tanker pilots to do a quick flyover after he drops his load.”

It was better than nothing, but I didn’t hold out much hope they would be able to see anything from that altitude on a single flyover, especially with all the smoke in the area.

He pulled a business card out of his jacket pocket and handed it to me.

“Call if you…” His voice trailed off. “You know, if you think of something else.”

As I left the building, I was already thinking of that something else.

CHAPTER 23

I drove as the muted sun sank through thick haze in the direction of the mountains. I couldn’t remember what fresh air looked and felt like in my lungs. A smoky wind sandblasted its way down the street, sending pedestrians scattering and traffic lights swinging violently above the intersections.

R.L. Garrigus came on the radio and said that the blaze had eaten up another three thousand acres. It was as if the trees were being chewed up and spit out by a huge, fiery demon. To make matters worse, the wind was supposed to stick around for the next few days with highs expected to reach triple digits.

I was out of time. For all I knew, the injured man was already dead. But I wasn’t ready to give up. There was one more thing I was going to try.

I would leave early, before sun up, and drive as close to the trailhead as possible. The Lakes Highway was closed just west of town all the way to Devil’s Lake, so I would have to cut up through Sunriver and come in from the south.

I stopped at Albertson’s on the way home to pick up supplies. Bottled water, candy bars, a couple of sports drinks, a basic first aid kit made up of bandages, gauze, aspirin, and antiseptic. Back home, I put down the bags on the counter and dug out an old pack from the coat closet. When I shook it, a large spider tumbled to the floor. I almost gave it a good stomping but instead opened the front door and ushered it outside.

I loaded the supplies into the pack and swung it over my shoulder to test the weight. It was pretty heavy. I thought about leaving some of the water, but decided to bring it because I had to stay hydrated. The last thing I needed out there was heat exhaustion. Anyway, the farther I went, the more I would drink, and the lighter the pack would become.

I plugged in my phone to make sure I had a full charge for the morning. I also checked the battery on the GPS watch Kate had given me last Christmas. Got the trail map, found a compass and flashlight, and put them in the outside pocket of the daypack.

“What else?” I said, pacing around the house. “What else?”

I couldn’t think of anything I had forgotten, but then remembered to write a note letting Kate know where I was going. I would leave it for her in the morning. I included detailed instructions and folded the paper in two. On the outside I wrote, “Gone on a hike. See you tonight.” I didn’t want her to worry and I was hoping she would just glance at it on the refrigerator door and not read the entire note. If things worked out, I could get rid of it when I got home.

That reminded me that I had to call the restaurant and let them know I wouldn’t be in tomorrow. I was hoping everyone had gone home and that I could leave a message on the machine, but Alberto picked up on the second ring.

I took a deep breath.

I didn’t want him to think I was a flake, especially on the heels of my spacey behavior the last few days. I told him an emergency had come up.

“Okay, whatever,” he said.

There was a mix of exhaustion and disappointment in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” I said after he hung up.

I sat there trying to regain my focus when the phone rang. I thought it might be Alberto calling back to fire me. But it was Ty.

 “Hey, babe. How did it go?”

I gave him a fast rundown of the day’s failures.

“That’s too bad,” he said.

“Yeah, I’ll have to think of something else.”

I didn’t tell him what that something else was going to be. It always came down to the same thing with Ty and me and ghosts. I didn’t want to worry him and I didn’t want to lie. It was a tightrope act and I wasn’t exactly one of the Flying Wallendas.

“So how’s the road?” I said, trying to change the subject.

He was up in Seattle, still filling in for one of the sick delivery guys.

“The weather’s nice and there’s no smoke. But driving a truck in this traffic is nuts.” He was talking a mile a minute like he had had too much road coffee. “They should rename it the Kamikaze Highway. I mean, these people drive like there’s no tomorrow. Oh, I’m bringing home a friend.”

 “A friend?”

“You’re gonna love him, especially on a cedar plank with some sea salt and lemon.”

“That’s my kind of friend. I’m drooling already.”

“Okay, gotta go,” he said. “See you tomorrow night.”

“Can’t wait. Love you.”

Tomorrow night. I sat there biting my lip and thinking about what the next twenty-four hours would bring.

CHAPTER 24

I was already up when the alarm went off at 4:45. I drank some coffee and forced down a few spoonfuls of yogurt. Then I placed the note for Kate on the refrigerator and secured it with a magnet. I grabbed the backpack and headed out into the unknown.

The highway was dark and lonely at that hour. I tapped my fingers on the wheel and sang along to MS MR’s “Hurricane,” humming and making up the words when I wasn’t sure of the lyrics. A few minutes after I passed Sunriver a deer ran out in front of the Jeep. I barely saw it in time, swerving at the last second and just missing it.

“At least it wasn’t a black cat,” I said out loud.

I switched on the high beams and brought down my speed.

When I passed the sign for Lower Lava Lake, the first light of dawn began to color the eastern sky from black to dark gray. I was getting closer. A few minutes later I saw a “Road Closed Ahead” sign. My stomach began to churn. I hoped it would be an unmanned roadblock. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if I came across someone who told me to turn around.

“Don’t sweat it, Craigers,” Jesse said, suddenly sitting next to me. “That part comes later.”

“And here I was feeling lonely,” I said.

“You know if there’s something I’ve learned it’s that you never, never leave your wingman.”

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be
my
wingman?”