Red (10 page)

He nodded once. Momentarily satisfied with
my answer, he crossed over to Rich and applied the bolt cutters to
the chain. I wrapped my arms tighter around my middle. There were
so many opportunities for this lie to blow up in my face. Patrick
was a dozen feet away from my father, talking to Ralph. What if he
said something about the project? About my internship? And, dear
God, what happened if Dr. McGrath showed up? He’d probably do
something really horrible, like compliment my dad on having such an
academically accomplished daughter. Jesus. There was a distinct
possibility I was going to be sick again.

Sawyer was watching me, but I didn’t dare
look at him. I could tell he wanted to say something, and I really,
really needed him to be a stranger right now. Just some guy I was
supposed to lead on the trails today, who’d decided to help with
the search.

With a metallic clink, the chain slithered
to the ground. All the grownups converged to move Rich, trap and
all, to the collapsible stretcher. I felt really superfluous now.
As he helped heft the stretcher up, Dad shot me a look that clearly
said,
Don’t go anywhere
. They disappeared into the trees,
back toward the access road where a transport waited to take Rich
to the hospital.

Unable to be still any longer, I moved over
to the tree, running my fingers over the spike and the short bit of
chain still dangling from it. There were too many scents competing
now. Everybody had touched it, compelled to test for themselves how
stuck the thing really was while we’d been waiting for the bolt
cutters. I began to circle the tree in an ever widening radius,
keeping my eyes on the ground, my nose open, looking for something,
anything that might be a clue to who had done this or where Molly
might be.

Sawyer fell in beside me. “You okay?”

Unlike my father, I knew he really was
asking how I was coping with all of this. Because he seemed to care
about my well-being. Was it just my well-being? He had, after all,
freaking thrown himself
in front of a bear
to protect me. I
was torn between admiration at his bravery and horror at his utter
stupidity. I wondered if it was symptomatic of his apparent hero
complex or if there was something more to it.

“
I don’t know,” I admitted.
“We found Rich. Great. Molly’s still out there, somewhere. And
there’s obviously some kind of psycho out there too because nobody
sane or normal did this. So, I really don’t know what to
think.”

“
They’ll find Molly,” he
said.

He didn’t say what I knew we were both
thinking.
In what condition?

My stomach rolled again.

We made it outside the worst of the charnel
stench, and I still couldn’t find signs of anyone’s scent but those
people already present. I didn’t know anything about how somebody
might cover that kind of trail or why they’d think to, unless they
knew about the search and rescue dogs and were trying to throw them
off the scent somehow. Maybe that’s what that butchered animal was
about. Confusing the dogs. I really hated the implications of that.
That it could be someone related to K9 Search and Rescue. I’d known
those people for years, and I couldn’t imagine any of them being
off their rocker enough to have done this.

I glanced up at Sawyer. He’d been affected
as strongly or stronger than I was when we’d stumbled into this
mess, then put it away, as I had, to do what needed to be done. He
seemed to be making a concerted effort
not
to look at the
butchery now. A muscle in his cheek twitched and his Adam’s apple
bobbed as he swallowed. He was clearly fighting to hold it
together.

And then I remembered.

My mother was shot.

Dear God, had he been there? Had he seen his
mother’s body?

For all my research into my mother’s death,
I really only had my imagination and the coroner’s report to tell
me what it was like. But to actually see it happen or see the
immediate aftermath . . . If he had, then this whole disgusting
mess was bound to remind him.

“
Sawyer—”

“
Elodie.”

I snatched back the hand I’d been reaching
toward Sawyer and scrambled to wipe the guilt from my face as I
turned toward my dad’s call. My pulse beat fast and thick in my
throat, but my voice came out normal. “Yes, sir?”

I searched his face, looking for any traces
of condemnation, of disappointment. Mostly he just looked pissed
and worried. But he wasn’t hustling me away, so maybe Patrick
hadn’t said anything.

“
The sheriff is here. He
wants to talk to you.” Dad’s attention shifted to Sawyer. “Both of
you.”

“
The sheriff?” Okay, yeah,
that squeak didn’t sound at all nervous. Not.

Sawyer shifted beside me, the back of his
hand brushing mine. Probably it wasn’t intentional, but it steadied
me. He seemed to have his own issues with the idea of law
enforcement. Though he didn’t outwardly react, his scent changed.
Not nerves or fear. Something else. A quick reaction, gone almost
before I could catch it. I filed it away as something to analyze
later.

Dad just gave me a
hurry up
look.

Okay, suck it up and deal. You haven’t
done anything wrong. At least not in the eyes of the sheriff.
Squaring my shoulders I started trudging through the trees.

I don’t know why the idea of talking to the
sheriff made me anxious. It’s not like I’ve ever been in trouble.
But the whole purpose of my life was to stay below the radar, so
being put in the spotlight with an authority figure, even when I
didn’t do anything wrong . . . well, it made me nervous. It didn’t
help that I was totally flipping out that my dad might find out my
lie, and if I didn’t get a handle on this
stat
, I was going
to look like I
really
had something to hide.

Dad fell into step behind me, shoulder to
shoulder with Sawyer, like some kind of entourage. They were both
looking at me. I could feel it, like an itch between my shoulder
blades.

I’d met Sheriff Beasley, of course. He was a
routine fixture on all search and rescue operations. But he’d never
actually, you know, talked to me before. Then again, I’d never been
the one to find the missing person before, so I guess he’d never
had reason to.

A couple of deputies passed us as we emerged
onto the access road. One carried a roll of crime scene tape.
Usually at this point in a search, the mood was jubilant, with
everybody looking forward to a shower and good food as a
celebration of victory. But this search had only been half
successful so far, and the deputies’ grim expressions reflected
that.

A small group of people gathered around the
sheriff’s cruiser, studying a map. A fresh bout of nerves started
bouncing in my gut as I saw Patrick and David among them. Not like
it was a shock. Where were they going to go? As I neared, I could
see that someone had made markings on the map in red Sharpie,
showing where the search had begun and all the points where the
dogs had alerted. It was a duplicate of the one I knew Eileen was
maintaining at the base camp. I buttoned down the panic. I was
definitely not the object of conversation here, so it was unlikely
that my internship was going to come up. Right?

“
You wanted to see me,
sir?” I said.

All eyes turned to me, and it was like a
repeat of walking into the research station yesterday.
Too much
attention.
My palms started to sweat.

“
You’re the one who found
the Phillips boy?” asked the sheriff.

“
Yes, sir. Sawyer and I
did.”

Sawyer stepped forward.
That’s right.
Don’t leave me standing here by myself. You were there too.

“
What did he say about what
happened to him and his sister?”

Sawyer let me do the talking. The more I
told Sheriff Beasley, the deeper the creases around his mouth
became, until he resembled nothing so much as an angry English
bulldog who’d aged a decade before my eyes. He didn’t ask me
anything about how I’d found Rich.

When I finished, he radioed back to base and
had them reorganize the search along the river.

“
Where do you want us to
reconvene?” I asked.

“
Nowhere,” said Dad. “We’re
done for the day.”

“
But Molly—”

“
The rest of the team is
still out there looking. They’ll find her. You’re done. We’re going
home,” he said.

The chill crept back. The search wasn’t
finished and Dad was pulling us both out? Crap, this couldn’t be
good. The sheriff was thanking us for our efforts, telling me what
a good job I’d done, but I heard almost none of it. I was too busy
trying to figure out what this meant and how I was going to cover
my butt.

Patrick walked over, and I felt a fresh
spurt of panic.
Oh God, don’t let him ask if I can come to work
the rest of the day
. Instead he looked over at Sawyer. “Give
you a ride back?”

“
Sure.”

Sawyer turned to me, looking again like he
wanted to say something. Instead he said, “Later,” and pulled one
of those male head jerks that’s supposed to count as a wave.

Okay, good. Great. One potential threat
down. Two more to go.

I made a generic wave to everybody, and
walked past David and Patrick without catching their eyes as I made
my way up the road to where Dad was standing by our ancient Ford
pickup. He said nothing as I climbed in, just cranked the engine
and pulled a three point turn to head back toward home. I quietly
watched him out of the corner of my eye and tried to figure out
exactly how deep in it I really was.

~*~

Sawyer

No, really, I’m not a stalker,
I
thought as I crept through the woods to the edge of Elodie’s
property. There were so many things
wrong
with what I was
doing. It was broad day, and I shouldn’t be on four feet, but I
could move faster this way and I trusted that my fur gave me enough
natural camouflage that no one would notice me. I shouldn’t be here
again, particularly after Elodie had busted me this morning. I knew
that. But, she was afraid again. And this time it wasn’t of me. She
was scared of her father.

I didn’t like it. And maybe she hadn’t asked
for a guardian werewolf, but if something was going on with her dad
that shouldn’t be, I wasn’t going to leave her to face it
alone.

I’d watched the old black pickup disappear
from view, already calculating how I’d get away. The opportunity
presented itself when we’d returned to base camp so I could pick up
my Jeep. The call came in that they’d found Molly Phillips, alive
and terrified, but unharmed, somewhere along the river, exactly as
her brother had said. It was easy to lose myself in the midst of
all the celebration.

The argument was in full swing by the time I
got within listening range of Elodie’s house.

“
. . . the hell did you
think you were doing?” Her father, showing none of the emotional
control he’d displayed in public.

“
I was on the search just
like—”

“
No. No, it wasn’t like any
other search because you were not out there with an adult. You were
on your own with some other
kid
.”

Never mind that this “kid” can do more to
protect your daughter than any member of that search team,
I
thought.

“
And we found Rich,” said
Elodie in a reasonable tone. “What are you so upset
about?”

“
What am I upset about?”
His voice went up several decibels, and I found myself leaving the
shelter of the trees and slinking closer to try and peer in the
picture window on the back porch. “There’s some kind of lunatic out
there and you’re just wandering around with no protection. I don’t
know what the hell Eileen was thinking.”

They were in the living room, squared off on
either side of a coffee table. Mr. Rose paced in agitation, rubbing
both hands over his short hair. By contrast, Elodie was still. I
could read the tension in her body, see the temper she was holding
back as she tried to stay reasonable.

“
What would you have had me
do, Dad? Nobody knew it was as bad as that until after we were
already out. I followed protocol. I radioed in as soon as we found
him. I stayed with my partner. There was nothing about that search
prior to finding Rich that indicated we were in any kind of danger,
so you can’t go blaming Eileen for sending me out. This is what
I’ve trained for, what you’ve made me.”

“
I did not train you to put
yourself at risk.”

She folded her arms, the first suggestion of
belligerence I’d seen. “And exactly what risk would you be
referring to? The idea that I was out in the park, off trail and
unarmed, or the fact that I could have been compromised?”

What the hell did she mean by
compromised?

Her father whirled at the statement, his
face going pale. “Were you?” he demanded.

She spread her arms and pivoted once before
walking over to get in his face. “Do I look compromised?”

He stared at her, looking for . . . I didn’t
know what. She just looked like herself.

“
Would you tell me if you
were?” he asked.

Something flickered across her face. “Of
course. I’m not Mom.”

Mr. Rose flinched. Obviously Elodie’s mom
was as big a sore point with him as mine was with my dad. His
shoulders slumped and he reached out, curling a hand around the
back of her neck. “Ellie,” he sighed, drawing her into a hug. “I
just don’t want to see you—”

“
I know,” she
said.