One Mile Under (7 page)

As she neared the road, she noticed something. She kneeled, sweating slightly in the sun, peeling back leaves and crushed branches on the ground to see.

It was like a small clearing had been made. Low branches were flattened against the ground, within a few yards from the road.

Not by hand, she could tell. It looked as if it was done by the front wheels of a vehicle.

So someone might well have been here.

She cleared away some of the leaves and brush on the ground. There were tire tracks. Something had pulled in—and whoever was in it had continued from the road via that pathway down to the Cradle.

To the very spot where Trey had been killed.

Her blood surged with vindication. It didn’t prove a thing. Any more than finding the helmet did.

It didn’t prove that Rooster was right. That,
it wasn’t no accident out there …

But he was damn well right on one thing.

Trey hadn’t been alone yesterday morning. Someone had definitely been here.

“Who the hell would want to kill Trey?” Wade screwed up his eyes, staring at the helmet Dani dropped on his desk.

“I don’t know who’d want to kill him. But I told you he was wearing a helmet and he was. You see any significant dents on it anywhere? Don’t you think if he received a head injury severe enough to kill him, there’d be some evidence on it somewhere?”

Wade’s response was laced with impatience and rising frustration. “I’m not sure
what
I’m supposed to think.” He took off his glasses and looked it over. “And you’re saying this proves what …?”

“It proves he wasn’t wearing it when he sustained his head injury. And the next question would be, Wade, how do you explain it coming off?”

“Don’t teach me my job, Danielle. And I don’t know how the hell it came off. Maybe he hit his head aside a rock. Maybe he took it off himself for some reason. To breathe. To take a leak for all I know. But this is all starting to cross the line. You’re coming to me with this helmet, claiming it was Trey’s, and that someone made their way down the rocks and then did what, lay in wait for him, to
kill
him …? Not even knowing for certain if he’d even be there.”

“I know how it sounds. But Trey did a seven
A.M.
run a couple of times a week, so it wasn’t a long shot that he’d be there. And I was looking around on the ridge above where I think it all might have happened and I found something else.”

“You did …?” Wade’s look of impatience was now amped up into the range of exasperation. “Surprise me, Danielle.”

“I found a path. In the brush above the river. Leading back to the road. From exactly the spot where Trey had to have been killed.”

“You mean where you think he had his accident, Dani. And if I need to remind you, there are paths all over the heights above that river. You and I have been through dozens of them. I don’t see what one more proves.”

“This one leads directly from the road to the spot just above the Baby’s Rattle.”

“The Baby’s Rattle …?”

“It’s a rapid on the upper Cradle where I think Trey was killed. Look, I know how it sounds, Wade. But I also found fresh tire marks near the road where that particular path came out.”

“Dani.”

“Which means someone else was there, and—”

“
Dani!
” She stopped. Wade sat back down. “We’re dealing with a lot here. And this is starting to strain my nerves. Someone kills Trey in the river and then sabotages your pal Ron’s balloon to keep it covered up?”

“He’s not my pal, Wade. He wasn’t even a friend. But that’s not even the point. The point is … I don’t know what it is …” She sat down, trying to lay out her argument with everything swimming around crazily in her head. “The point is we all know Trey could have done that run with his eyes closed. So how does he just upend, lose his helmet, crack his head. And then couple that with what Rooster saw …?”

“What he claimed to see …”

“What he
saw,
Wade. He knew exactly what Trey was wearing. And with Trey’s helmet not being on him … and those fresh tire marks on this path. I just think it’s something worth looking into. If you’re not so interested, maybe someone at the
Aspen Times
might be. Or Sheriff Warrick.”

Wade stared back at her, and this time with a lot more than merely frustration. “You must be kidding, young lady.”

“I’m not kidding, Wade.”

“You know what you’re saying?”

“I’m just saying someone else might find this all adds up to something. Enough to look into. Did you check the balloon?”

“This is really starting to cross the line for me. Did we check the balloon for what?”

“I don’t know. For anything that looked … suspicious.”

Wade glared. “Course we checked it, Dani. Teams of people who know what the hell they’re doing have been over it all day. The outer fabric is pretty much a burnt-out mess. And what are we looking for anyway? A rip? A tear? If what you’re suggesting is true, some person sure went to an awful lot of trouble and risk to cover up the death of a basically broke, adrenaline-junkie, joy rider.”

“What about a bullet? That could have caused it, right? It could have torn right through.”

“You’re starting to sound crazy now.”

“All I’m asking is if anyone heard what may have been a shot going off nearby?”

Wade stood up again, came over to her, and sat himself on the edge of his desk. “What the hell is it about this, Danielle? This has gone too far. I know he was a friend. I know there are parts of all this that don’t somehow add up to you. But no one else is seeing it that way. What they’re seeing is a guy who may have gotten a bit too reckless and maybe misgauged how much water there was out there, which is exactly what the investigator the Parks Service sent agreed it was today.”

“I know that river, Wade. No one knows it better than me—”

“But you’re not a cop, Dani. You’re a river guide. A smart one, maybe, but you’re way overreaching here. And when you say silly things like you just did, about bringing in the press, more than they already are, it’s starting to strain my patience to even listen to you. There are families coming here to retrieve their loved ones and there’s zero tangible evidence to get everyone riled up that says it’s anything other than two tragic, but unrelated events.”

Dani stood up. Frustration ran heatedly through her blood, too. It all made sense to her, at least to a point. But Wade had one thing right. One thing she couldn’t answer. Trey wasn’t exactly the type to have enemies, so why, why would anyone want to do this to him?

Wade’s shoulders sagged and he let out a resigned breath. “I tell you what …”

“What?”

“I’ll talk to Allie.” Trey’s wife. “I’ll see if there was any reason anyone would want to do him harm. Not that I believe there was, you hear me saying. But that’s a start, right?”

Dani looked at him. The blood eased out of her face. She nodded. “You could check out those tire marks, too,” she added. Then finally she gave him an accepting and contrite shrug, even a smile. “Yes. It’s a start. Thanks.”

“All right then. But the only reason I’m even agreeing to this is for you to stay out of it from this point on. No more detective, okay? It’s getting people riled up. Especially
me.
We’re opening the river back up tomorrow. Please, get your ass back on it.”

Dani nodded again, against her better instincts. “Just ask her, okay?”

“And I don’t want to hear any more threats about taking this to someone. Or I’m gonna have to figure out something else, Dani. To keep you out of it. We agree?”

“What do you mean by something else, Wade?”

“I don’t know. Just don’t. Understand? I need you to promise me.”

She looked at him. “Rooster wasn’t drunk, Wade. He knew what Trey was wearing. He saw something. He just didn’t feel he could bring it to you.”

“I said I need you to promise me, Dani …”

Her face was still flushed and red. She kept looking at him and he didn’t know what she was going to say. Then she finally nodded, the air going out of her cheeks. “All right. I promise.” She reached for the helmet.

Wade put his hand on it. “Where do you think you’re going with that?”

“Trey’s wife. It was his. She may want it.”

“Sorry.” He pulled it over to his side of the desk. “That’s evidence. It stays with me.”

Later, in an oversize Bowdoin T-shirt and sweat pants, Dani sat polishing off the last of a beer, her second, Blu curled up on the kilim rug in front of the TV.

“What is all this about, Dani …?”

There were a couple of messages from Geoff that she hadn’t returned. The first was business: “Okay to do the bus leg on the afternoon run tomorrow and give Rob a chance to guide?” The second was more personal. “Look, is everything all right, Dani? You’ve been a little distant since Trey. We haven’t spent any time together, and you kind of brushed me off the other night. I know you’re upset. I’d like to come by tonight if that’s all right. We could catch a bite. Or I could give you the ol’ down-under back rub and we could catch up on a couple of episodes of
House of Cards
…”

She started to text him back that she just wasn’t feeling up to it tonight.

She really didn’t want to make trouble. And not with Wade. It was true, he hadn’t been much of a husband to her mom. There were always rumors of him screwing around and he didn’t exactly shine with compassion when she deteriorated and really needed him. By that time he was either too drunk or too stoned to be of much help; then he was let go from the Aspen sheriff’s office and had to call in every favor he was owed not to have been brought up on criminal charges.

But he’d always been nice to Dani. Growing up, he was like one of those larger-than-life figures who would come in your life every once in a while and was always involved in fun, cool stuff. He took her camping and riding. He introduced her to famous people as “his little girl.” Then he’d go on a binge. She’d gone to a few Al-Anon meetings and the part about how addicts weren’t even in control always hit home. Wade was at the top of the list. The only parts of his personality stronger than his charm and charisma were his urges to be temperamental and self-destructive. Dani had tried to forgive him for being such a shitty husband to her mom. And at times maybe she had. And then sometimes his betrayals and constant pushing her mom away when she needed him most crushed her and broke her will. The same will everyone said they saw in Dani.

But now this was Wade’s last chance in life, and it was clear he didn’t want to rock the boat. To Dani, the mosaic all fit together. Trey. The Cradle. The path that seemed to have been made down there from the road. Rooster claiming he saw something and then his balloon crashing down in flames. Maybe she couldn’t prove any part of it, but it was all there for anyone to see if they wanted to take a look. She knew she was pushing the line with him. Wade didn’t like to be crossed and he surely didn’t like his authority questioned. Not in this job, which was the last rung on the ladder for him. And maybe Dani had made him look small to his staff.

But she couldn’t just walk away from it. She couldn’t just pretend it was all just some unrelated incident so the Chamber of Commerce could still brag about what an idyllic valley they lived in here.

What’s this all about?
Wade had asked of her.

She got up and went out to the deck. The moon was bright. The crickets were buzzing. The sky was dark and wide, the shadow of Mount Sopris looming in the distance. It was like you could see every star on the sky.

She sat in the Adirondack chair and put her feet up on the railing and swigged her beer. Blu shuffled out and curled up at her feet.

She wasn’t about to stop, no matter what Wade had made her promise. How could he understand? She owed Trey. She owed him big.

Maybe everything.

They were on the upper Colorado River in Gore Canyon, two Aprils ago. There were four of them. Chase Gould and Tom Twilliger, both expert rafters. The lure was the biggest early spring runoff in years, over a thousand cubic feet per second coming down the river, which turned a Class Four into a Five, and a Five into sheer heaven.

Trey heard about and he called Dani and they decided to join in. They packed up their gear in Chase’s truck and made the ninety-minute drive to Kremmling. Gore was an unspoiled mountain canyon, lined with snowcapped mountains and jagged cliffs. The three-mile rapid run through it had some of the most challenging whitewater in the country.

Dani had done the run once before, but never with so much water. It started out moderate: Applesauce and Sweet Dreams, easy Class Threes, just to stick your toe in the water, as they say. The gems were up next. Scissors, which could cut anyone up or flip you over, and Pirate, with its deep holes and rocks the size of buildings, and a ton of water slashing around. It wasn’t just good technique that got you down; this run was also about strength. In the hardest water Dani had ever had to push around. There were plenty of yelps and whoops of exhilaration, paddles raised triumphantly at every chute they made it through.

Then they hit Tunnel Falls.

Most people do Gore Canyon for the Kirshbaum, a half-mile narrow chute of rocks and holes with a 120-foot vertical that builds up the speed like a raceway. But the Falls is its signature rapid. Massive rocks on both sides of a narrow chute and then over a twelve-foot drop. You have to navigate through it at just the right line; otherwise it’s a headfirst wipeout. Guaranteed.

And that was with half the water the four of them had that day.

Chase was up first. The best and most experienced of them. He’d won a few competitions. The basin at the bottom of the falls had a ton of water thrashing about in it. He hit it just like they drew it up, the rest of them looking on from thirty yards upstream. He disappeared over the edge, spray and foam exploding around him, and from where they were they had no idea. And then ten seconds later they saw him reappear fifty yards downstream, his paddle raised high, his ecstatic whoops drowned out by the turbulent water’s roar.