Hold Your Breath (Search and Rescue) (24 page)

“Fix his face?” Cal scowled, peering at the snowman. “What’s wrong with his face?”

Struggling to hide a grin, Lou said, “I’m not exactly sure. It just seems…goofy, somehow. Maybe his eyes are uneven?” She bounded toward the woods before she started laughing. When she reached the first line of trees, she looked back to see Callum with his frowning face close to the snowman’s perfectly aligned features. Lou had to cover her mouth with her gloved hand to hold back the laugh that wanted to escape.

She turned her attention to the ground, but snow had covered most of the fallen branches. When she peered deeper into the woods, she could just make out a fallen pine tree, propped against a boulder. Lou made her way to the needleless skeleton and snapped off two small branches that would work as snowman arms. After a short hesitation, she broke off another four so Callum could choose the best two from a selection.

As she pivoted away from the dead tree, a small sound caught her attention. She stopped, listening. The noise didn’t repeat. In fact, Lou’s stillness made her realize how quiet everything was. There were no animal noises or branches creaking in the wind or rustling pine needles. It was just…silent.

A shiver shot up her spine, and she forced her feet to move quickly toward Cal’s yard.
Nothing’s out there
, she told herself firmly. It was just the whole Brent thing making her paranoid. Despite her stern mental reassurances, she increased her speed until she was almost running. Just before she passed the final line of trees, she stopped again.

“What is it?” Cal called across the yard, starting to make his way toward her.

“Nothing,” she said, walking toward him and holding out the branches.

He took them from her, but his serious expression didn’t change. “Why’d you stop back there?”

“It was just my imagination.” Hooking her hand in the crook of his elbow, she urged him back toward the snowman. “I thought I caught a whiff of Smelly Jim.”

“Huh.” Turning his head, he raked the trees with his gaze.

The sound of a vehicle engine approaching caught both of their attentions.

“Expecting someone?” Lou asked.

Shaking his head, he dropped the arm sticks next to the snowman and walked around the side of the house. After gathering a handful of snow, she hurried to catch up with him. When they rounded the corner to the front of his house, Lou saw a sheriff’s squad car parked on the street. Chris left it running and climbed out of the driver’s side. As he rounded the hood, lifting his hand in greeting, Lou threw the snowball, hitting him square in the chest.

Stopping abruptly, Chris eyed the remains of the snowball plastered to his coat before looking at Lou. “Assaulting an officer is a crime,” he said.

She raised her hands. “It was completely unpremeditated, with no malicious intent.”

He rolled his eyes. “Tell that to the jury.”

“Chris.” Callum stepped closer to Lou, draping a possessive arm over her shoulders. Although she lifted her eyebrows, she let it stay.

“Hey, Cal.” The deputy looked amused as he eyed them. “Do you two have a minute? This won’t take long.”

“Sure,” Lou answered. “C’mon in.”

They went in through the front, all of them staying close to the door. Although she felt more comfortable in Callum’s house now than she had the first time she’d been there, the expanse of immaculate floors was still intimidating, especially when she was wearing snow-covered boots.

“Thank you for the tip—about the murder victim’s first name,” Chris said as soon as Callum closed the door behind them. “That proved to be really helpful. I was able to ID him.”

“Really?” Lou bounced on the toes of her boots. “That’s great! Who is he? Do you know what happened to him? Do you have some new leads now about who the killer is?”

Chris blinked at her, speechless for a moment.

With an amused snort, Callum muttered, “Welcome to my world.”

“Ah…” Chris shot Callum a glance that Lou translated as a look of masculine solidarity. “This hasn’t been confirmed. DNA testing’s been done, but that takes some time to get back from the state lab.”

“Who is it? Can you tell us?”

After a second, he nodded. “You need to keep this under your hats until the tests come back and it’s released to the media.”

Lou made a zipping-her-lips motion.

“His name is—probably—Willard Alan Gray.”

“Will Gray,” Cal said thoughtfully. “I know that name.”

“He lived on the outskirts of Simpson, off of Esko Hill Road.”

“Right.” With a nod, Cal added, “Kind of an odd guy. Kept to himself, except when that new development was about to be built right by his place a few years back. He came to a couple of city planning meetings to protest it.”

“That’s him,” Chris agreed. “The sheriff actually lives in one of the new Esko Hill houses. Said that after the development was built, Gray hardly ever left his cabin.”

“Was he reported missing?” A flood of questions poured through Lou’s brain, triggered by the new information.

“Not officially,” the deputy said. “His old army buddy showed up a couple of weeks ago, though. Baxter Price.”

“Uncle Baxter!”

Chris gave Lou an odd look and then continued. “Anyway, Price said he and Gray communicated through email and occasional phone calls. After months of silence, Price became concerned and came here to check on him. He’s staying at Gray’s place for the time being.”

With a frown, Lou asked, “Why didn’t Baxter make the connection between his missing friend and the body found in the reservoir?”

“Apparently,” Chris answered with a grimace, “Price is not a fan of law enforcement officers. It was like pulling teeth to get him to talk to me. He never officially reported Gray as missing, but just started poking around on his own, like some people do.” His pointed gaze fell on Lou, but she just blinked at him innocently. “As far as knowing about the body, I got the impression he doesn’t interact with the other people in town much, so he missed out on all the gossip.”

“His friend was all Willard had?” That struck Lou as sad. “No family, then?”

“Not that we could find. Price doesn’t know of any, but I don’t know how reliable he is.”

Callum gave the deputy a sharp look. “You think he’s lying to you?”

“Not intentionally,” Chris said. “But he clearly has some mental issues.”

“Did no one local know that Willard was missing?” Lou frowned at the thought. “I know he rarely left the house, but I would think the neighbors would notice when he went from reclusive to completely gone, especially when an anonymous body is discovered.”

“Apparently not,” the deputy said. “No one reported it to us, at least.”

Her brain was racing with new theories and questions. “If he was pretty much a hermit, why would anyone care enough to kill him? Is there any connection between Willard and the Liverton MC?”

Chris’s expression shut down. “I can’t discuss this case with you any further, Lou. In fact, I shouldn’t have told you what I did, but I thought you deserved it for giving me the information that led to a probable ID.”

“Okay,” Lou said, deflating. Callum reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “Thanks for telling me. It’s good to know who he is, at least.”

With a short nod of acknowledgment, Chris reached for the doorknob. “Please keep this to yourselves.”

“Of course,” Callum said, and Lou nodded.

“Enjoy the rest of your weekend.” Stepping outside, the deputy closed the door behind him.

Lou and Callum eyed each other for several long, silent moments. The sound of Chris’s squad car faded into the distance.

“Whiteboard?” Callum asked.

A grin spread over Lou’s face. “Yes, please.”

There wasn’t much time to scribble more than the basics before Lou had to head to work. The warm, sunny day brought in locals and tourists alike, and her shift flew by quickly. Tyler Coughlin stopped in for a hot chocolate, but she didn’t have the time or the privacy to ask the sheriff’s son for the latest gossip on the HDG case before he flipped his boy-band bangs out of his eyes and left.

She frowned. It really wasn’t the HDG case anymore. He had a name now. Willard Alan Gray. But as much as she would have liked to ponder how knowing who the victim was changed the direction of the murder case, a family with four small kids trooped into the shop, asking about the menu and distracting her from a whole new flock of theories.

There was a short lull around five when the shop emptied, and Lou frantically cleaned, not sure if the rush would start again. She’d had only a few minutes to tidy the day’s mess when an SUV pulled into the lot. With a heavy sigh, she returned to her spot behind the counter, watching as a couple got out of the vehicle. The man opened the rear door and clipped a leash to the collar of what looked like a golden retriever mix.

Callum pulled up, distracting her from her potential customers. She watched him back into his usual spot at the far end of the lot. As he walked toward the front door, she had to repress a stupidly lovesick sigh. Even in multiple winter layers, the man was just mouthwatering.

With a snort, she forced her gaze away from him. She was being ridiculous, worse than a junior high girl with her first crush. If she’d been a cartoon, her pupils would be heart-shaped. The bells on the door jangled, jerking her out of her self-mockery.

“Sparks,” Callum said. “Get out here.” He stepped back outside, the bells ringing again as the door closed.

“Okay,” she said slowly. That was odd. Although she didn’t like to jump when Callum ordered her to jump—unless it was something dive-team related—curiosity had her heading for the door.

He was talking to the couple when she stepped outside, and she made her way toward them. As she approached, the dog began to wag his tail so hard that his whole body wiggled. All three people looked at her, and she slowed, not able to read their expressions.

Handing the end of the leash to the woman, the man crossed the short distance to Lou and grabbed her in an enveloping hug, lifting her off her feet. She stared over his shoulder at Callum, giving him frantic eye signals to come save her from this inappropriately affectionate stranger, but he wasn’t moving. Not only didn’t he rescue her, but he was smiling.

The man put her back on her feet but kept his hands on her shoulders. There were tears in his eyes, she noted with awkward horror. What was happening here? “Thank you.”

She just blinked at him.

“You don’t recognize me?” He gave a watery laugh as he released her. “I guess I am drier now. And conscious.”

“Oh!” She bounced on her toes as realization struck her. “You’re the one we pulled out of the water the other night. And your dog.”

“Yes. Howard Spalding. And that’s Moses. We’d be dead if it hadn’t been for you guys, so thank you.” He laughed again. “It’s such a small thing to say after something like that, but I still wanted to say it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She wasn’t sure what else to do in this situation. “I’m glad you’re okay. That you’re both okay.”

The woman came over with Moses bounding ahead of her. Once the dog reached Lou, he didn’t slow his forward momentum, but jumped up and planted his paws on her middle.

“Moses!” the woman scolded. Tears flowed freely down her face, and Lou felt a sympathetic burn behind her own eyes.

“It’s fine,” Lou said, focusing on scratching the dog behind his ears so she wouldn’t have to look directly at the crying people. “He’s beautiful.”

“Thank you so much,” the woman sobbed. “I would’ve lost them both if it wasn’t for you and the other rescuers.”

Howard put an arm around her and pulled her in to his side. “This is my wife, Trudy.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lou said, wincing inwardly at the trite words. “And you’re welcome. I’m just glad they’re okay.”

Overtaken by sobs, Trudy grabbed her in a hard hug. Lou patted her back awkwardly. She met Callum’s eyes over the other woman’s shoulder and mouthed, “Help me.”

He shook his head and grinned. “Enjoy it,” he mouthed back.

Once Trudy’s tears had eased to the occasional sniffle, she took a step back.

“Um…do you want to go inside and have some coffee?” Lou asked.

“No,” Howard answered, draping his arm around his wife again. “Thank you, but we have to be going. We’re headed back to Colorado Springs tonight. I wanted to stop by to thank you before we left, though.”

“How’d you know to come here?” Lou asked.

“The EMTs said you two would probably be here,” he explained. “Could you thank the other guys on your dive team for me, too?”

“Of course,” she said.

After additional hugs and thanks and yet more tears, the Spalding family drove away, waving and honking as they left. Once they were out of sight, Lou and Callum entered the shop as small, sharp flakes of snow began to prick their exposed skin.

“
Brr
,” Lou said as she stepped into the warmth of the small building. “I didn’t realize how cold it had gotten.”

Callum ran his hands briskly over her upper arms. As she began to thaw, she smacked him on the belly.

“What?” he asked, looking offended.

“You just left me to those people’s crying and hugging and gratitude!”

He laughed. “You deserved it.”

“I didn’t know what to say,” she admitted. “I mean, what
can
you say when someone is thanking you for saving their life? I really didn’t do anything. You and Wilt went into the water. I just pulled on a rope. They were acting like I’m a hero or something.”

“You are a hero.” Leaning in close, he kissed her temple. “Get used to it.”

* * *

“Holy cow,” Lou breathed later that evening, standing close enough to Callum’s living room window that her exhalation fogged the glass. After peeking over her shoulder to see if he’d noticed, she used her sleeve to surreptitiously rub away the smudge.

“What?” he asked.

“The wind is just crazy,” she explained, taking a half step away from the glass. “It’s not snowing anymore, but it might as well be, the way it’s blowing around. I can’t even see that spindly looking pine tree in your yard. What’s the visibility—two feet?”

“Ground blizzard,” he said, crossing the living room to stand behind her. His arms crossed over her upper chest as he pulled her back against him and rested his chin on the crown of her head. Casual physical affection from Callum still surprised her, but Lou had to admit it was really, really nice. “Glad I don’t have to drive in this.”

When the radio sounded, Lou sighed, giving his forearm a light smack. “You just
had
to say that, didn’t you?”

His only response was a groan of his own as he grabbed the radio off the breakfast bar and headed for the mudroom. Lou followed, automatically pulling on her outerwear as fast as she could as she listened to the dispatcher.

“Dive Rescue One, there’s been a report of an unidentified victim falling through the ice on the west side of Mission Reservoir. Caller is on scene and witnessed the victim enter the water less than one minute ago. Victim is conscious and attempting self-rescue. Dive Rescue One, do you copy?”

Callum depressed the button as he grabbed his gear bag and charged into the garage. “1210 copies. En route with 1244 to Station One. ETA three minutes.”

“Copy.”

After waiting for the paramedics to call in their status, Callum spoke into the radio again. “Dispatch, can you see if Fire and Sheriff are available to assist?”

“Affirmative.”

As they hopped into the truck, Lou waited for other dive-team members to speak, but the radio stayed ominously silent. Callum backed out of the garage as soon as the pickup had an inch of clearance below the rising door.

“Are we it?” Lou asked, wishing her voice didn’t sound so small.

“Wilt’s still gone,” he said grimly, peering through the white sheet of blowing snow. “Derek and Chad ran to Denver this morning to pick up that part for the van, and the pass was closed before they could get back. Phil lives over in Burne, which means it’ll take him two hours to get to Mission in this weather. So, yeah. We’re it. Hopefully, Fire and some deputies will make it out to help.”

“Okay.” Her knee jerked nervously up and down. “Poor Derek.”

“What?”

“He has to share a hotel room with Chad.”

“If he’s lucky. Otherwise, they’ll have to bed down in the truck cab.”

Her laugh was too loud for the joke, revealing her nerves. “They’ll need to cuddle, in order to share body heat.”

He snorted as they pulled up to Station One. Grabbing their gear, they ran for the building. The cutting wind stole Lou’s breath, and she burst through the door into the warmth of the station. As Callum donned a dry suit, she started the van and opened the overhead door before fastening his suit for him. Even by the time they left the station, no firefighters had made it in yet.

Thanks to the clumsy nature of the suit, with its attached gloves and boots, Lou drove the van. It was hard to find a balance between urgent speed and care, and the wind gusted hard enough to rock the van, adding to her tension. Clutching the wheel with both hands, she leaned forward and tried to peer through the white curtain of snow in front of her.

“Let me know if I’m going to run into anything, okay?” she tried to joke, although her voice shook.

“Steady,” he said in a calm voice. She could almost feel her blood pressure dropping just listening to him. “Slow down if you need to. If we wreck, we can’t help anyone.”

“Okay.” Taking a deep breath and then letting it out, she forced her fingers to ease up on the steering wheel. The reservoir was only five miles away from Station One. She could do this.

“What I don’t get,” Callum said, still in that composed, easy tone, “is how anyone managed to go through the ice on Mission. Verde, I’d get. There are always weak spots on Verde once the temps start warming up. But Mission? What’d this guy do? Chop a hole before jumping in?”

Her laugh came out in a nervous rush. “Thanks.” When he cocked an eyebrow in question, she explained, “For settling me down, I mean.”

“You’re doing fine, Lou.” His dry-gloved hand reached over and squeezed her leg above her knee.

“Thanks,” she said again, her gaze fixed at the tiny portion of road she could see in front of her. “Now keep your hands to yourself and quit distracting the driver.”

It was his turn to laugh. “I thought you liked how I distracted you.”

“I said ‘settling me.’ Your touch is more unsettling than settling.”

He laughed again but removed his hand from her leg. The horrible visibility didn’t allow her to dwell on how she missed the weight of it.

They were quiet for the remainder of the drive, the silence broken by short, stressed transmissions from the other emergency vehicles trying to make their way to the reservoir. Callum managed to convey their progress over the radio, even wearing his clumsy gloves, for which Lou was thankful. She didn’t need one more responsibility, not when her entire focus was keeping the dive van on the road.

When the van’s headlights reflected off the sign for the reservoir turnoff, she almost burst into tears of relief. Instead, she bit the inside of her lip hard enough to send a shock of pain through her. Lou reminded herself that this was just the beginning of the call, and the hardest part was yet to come.

Although she knew, thanks to the radio transmissions, that none of the other first responders were even close to the reservoir, it was still a disappointment not to see any flashing lights through the blowing snow.

“Where do I go?” she asked, leaning even closer to the windshield. “I know I was just here, but it looks different in the dark and with the snow flying.”

“Take a left.”

She did, bumping across the frozen ruts in the gravel road. The wind had blown most of the snow clear, leaving only a few hard-as-rock drifts to maneuver. Lou was concentrating so hard on navigating the narrow road that Callum’s voice made her jump.

“Dispatch, are you still on the line with the caller?”

“Negative,” she replied. “I lost the connection four minutes ago. I’ve been trying to call him back, but he’s not answering.”

Lou’s stomach clenched. If the complainant wasn’t answering his phone, there was a good chance he was doing something stupid, like going onto the ice to help the victim. She braced herself for the likelihood that she and Callum were going to have to pull two hypothermic people out of the water.

“Fuck,” Callum muttered off the air before he depressed the mic button again. “Copy. Let me know if you reach him. 1210 and 1244 are on scene. I don’t see the caller on shore, but visibility is sh—uh, not good.”

“Copy.”

“Park up there,” he said, pointing to a section of shore mostly blown free of snow.

“Copy,” Lou said, making him send a wry look in her direction. She shrugged as she eased the van into the spot he’d indicated. It was hard not to fall into the radio pattern of speaking when on a call.

“There!” he said abruptly, and Lou jumped, hitting the brakes. “There he is.”

She squinted through the blowing snow, realizing that the cover had lightened slightly between gusts of wind. A dark circle of water surrounded an even darker spot before it disappeared under the surface.

“Oh shit!” she yelped. “I think he just went under.”

They both climbed into the back of the van. Callum sat to slide his arms into the buoyancy control device that was strapped to the oxygen tank. Ripping off her gloves, Lou secured the BCD, arranging the regulator and gauges to hang over his shoulders for easy access. Lifting the weight belt, she paused, frowning.

“Is this going to be enough with the buoyancy of your dry suit?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I already have weights in the BCD pockets,” he said, motioning for her to attach the belt. She did, as he checked the tank pressure and tapped the regulator button, getting a burst of air in response. His mask was next, and she tucked the edges beneath his hood, trying to ignore how hard her hands were shaking. He stood, lifting the oxygen tank from its stand as he did so.