Run to Me (11 page)

Yet on this occasion she didn’t care. Intended or not, she planned to make use of this chance he’d given her. Planned to
do the job so fucking well he’d finally be forced to acknowledge her worth.

If Nolan didn’t screw things up totally first!

‘We could
rest a few minutes,’ he tried again. ‘It’s after two; we’ve been slogging through this jungle for hours and I haven’t had anything to eat yet today.’

She sighed and walked back to him. ‘Not a real trooper, are you, Nolan?’

‘Playing Daniel Boone wasn’t on your list of job requirements.’

‘Neither was your being a man. Guess you can’t take anything for granted these days.’

She looked away from
him in disgust, then scanned the slope they’d just ascended. ‘All right, I’ll go back and get the car. You take a short rest, then keep searching. Give me about an hour then head for the road. I’ll pick you up. We’ll grab something to eat and start again.’

Nolan saluted her as she walked away. Noting the sticky feel of his fingers, he looked down and swore. The tree he was leaning against – some
kind of pine – had oozed sap all over his pants. He pushed off and slumped to the ground.

Long after Vanessa had disappeared from view he was still sitting with the pine needles pricking his legs. He’d be damned if he’d traipse around the wilderness alone. Bad enough he’d ruined his clothes and had to take abuse from Attila the Cunt, he’d not spend another minute wandering a place that could
very well have –

A sound pricked his ears and he spun around. At the bottom of the slope, one of the boulders from a granite outcropping was somehow rocking itself against a tree. His eyes narrowed then widened again. Not a boulder. A frigging bear!

He launched himself up, scrambled over the nearest rise, tripped on a branch and tumbled head-first down the next slope.
At the bottom he climbed
from the stream he’d landed in and ran for the road. The hell with this!

A stitch in his side and shortness of breath finally overrode his panic. He staggered to a halt a bare stone’s throw from an embankment rising up to the road and turned to survey the forest behind him.

Nothing. No movement. No sign of the bear. He paused briefly to savour his relief then started for the embankment again.

Three large concrete pipes passed beneath the road at its base. The stream flowed through two of them but, there, near the third . . .

Nolan stopped. A scrap of paper anywhere else would never have attracted his attention. But here, in these wretched Godforsaken wilds, it was the first piece of litter he’d come across. He walked to the conduit and picked it up.

A baseball card. Creased and torn
but not nearly as filthy as he would have expected of something left out in the rain and the elements. It hadn’t been lying here very long.

Frowning, he stared at the face of Eric Gagne. He remembered escorting the boys from the Learys’ house – the youngest had taken some ugly stuffed animal, Zack had brought nothing, and the third . . . Hadn’t he collected baseball cards?

Nolan bent and peered
into the conduit. The area just inside its opening was thickly blanketed with leaves and pine needles. They were spread too evenly and appeared too fresh to have been deposited by flood waters.

This time it was the sound of a car approaching that drew his attention. He rushed to the embankment and climbed to the road in time to flag Vanessa.

‘I found where they spent the night,’ he told her
as she rolled down her window. ‘There’s a conduit just here beneath the road. I found this lying by one of the pipes.’ He gave her the card.

Vanessa opened her door and got out. ‘Okay, you take the car and keep going that way. See if you can spot them. I’ll try to pick up their trail.’

They traded places and she bent to the window. ‘Look for any place they might have gone in – a barn, a shed,
anywhere they might have tried to get food. But don’t ask anyone if they’ve seen them.’

‘You really think I’m that stupid?’

She walked away without giving a reply.

It was late afternoon by the time they reached the doctor’s office.

As they crouched in the bushes across the road, Zack gently lowered Corey’s limp form to a bed of sugar maple leaves.

He guessed it had taken them three times longer to walk the same distance he had that morning. Because they couldn’t risk being seen on the road, they’d travelled through the forest where unseen twigs
and rocks had tripped him and mulch-covered slopes had sent him sliding.

But he’d also started to feel a bit weird and that had slowed him down even more. Though he’d coped with Corey’s weight at first, by the time they’d come within sight of the office he was practically staggering. Now, as he flopped back against a tree trunk, his legs felt rubbery and his body quaked.

Reece sat beside him,
peering through the undergrowth at the white shingled house across the road. ‘How come we’re just sitting here?’

‘Too many cars over there now, too many people. We have to wait till some of them leave.’ Zack closed his eyes and laid his head back.

‘One of them’s leaving!’

He jerked awake. How long had he been out? Two minutes? Five? Probably no more, but it had been the thick black void of
the deepest sleep. Struggling to pull himself from its grasp he pushed forward to kneel beside Reece.

Three cars were left in the office parking lot. If one of them belonged to the doctor and maybe another belonged to a nurse, it meant there was only one patient there. And if that patient was in with the doctor, the waiting room should be empty. Maybe.

Zack shook his head. Too many maybes, too
many ifs.

He reached out and picked up Corey’s hand. The boy’s lips were chapped, his fingers icy and, except for the circles under his eyes, his skin was so pale you could see his veins. Zack wanted desperately to wait and be sure, but maybe Corey didn’t have that long.

He turned to Reece. ‘Okay, help me lift him up again.’

He crossed the road a bit further back so no one would see him from
the office’s windows. Moving through the trees that edged the parking lot he swung around to the rear of the building. With no way of knowing who might be watching, he took a deep breath and ran for the door.

His run was more of a shambling trot and by the time he’d crossed the short distance his whole body was shaking again. For a moment the porch grew dim before his eyes, then the mist cleared
and he struggled up the steps.

Bent nearly double to balance Corey’s weight, he opened the door and peeked around it. A wide corridor stretched before him. At the end he could see the building’s front door and the corner of a desk. The reception area? No doubt the waiting room was through the archway just across from it. He slipped inside and started up the hall.

Doors either side opened successively
on a laundry/bathroom, kitchen/lounge and storage area. To his relief all were empty.

As he slid past the last one, more of the front desk came into view. He heard the clicking of a computer keyboard. Then the soft whoosh of wheels – a chair rolling back.

A few steps further and he saw the computer, but whoever had been typing had moved out of sight. The sound of a cabinet rattling open came
from further back in the room. Heartened, he eased up and peered around the corner.

A woman with grey hair stood with her back to him at a bank of filing cabinets that lined the far wall. To his left, as he’d hoped, was the empty waiting room. He tip-toed across it, laid Corey down on one of the couches and retreated up the hallway.

Nolan pulled the car to a stop by the silhouette waiting at
the side of the road. Vanessa climbed in, slammed the door and slumped in the seat.

‘No luck?’ he ventured.

‘Plenty – all bad. Their tracks were all around the stream and the culvert. I followed them for about a mile then lost them over some rocky ground. You?’

‘I didn’t actually see them but I might have a lead.’

Her head snapped around.

‘There’s a general store just up the road. When I
went in to grab a bite I overheard the owner telling someone about a boy who came in early this morning. The kid was alone and the guy felt sure he was looking to steal something but he watched him too close to give him a chance. In the end the kid left without buying anything.’

‘Could be a local.’

Nolan shook his head. ‘The owner said he didn’t recognise him. And in a town this size he’d know
most kids.’ He waited
while she chewed her lip. ‘I think it was him – the oldest one, Ballinger. Which means the three of them are still in the area.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Come on, they’ve gotta be. By the number of cars that pass on this road what are the odds they caught a lift?’

She drew a deep breath and blew it out again. ‘Well, we’ll have to assume they didn’t, won’t we? If they did, we’ve lost
them – they could be anywhere. And that’s not going to make Tragg very happy.’

Nolan swallowed. ‘So where does that leave us?’

‘It’s too dark to try and pick up their trail any more today. We might as well find a place for the night.’

Nolan watched as her frown slowly cleared. When she finally turned to him she was almost smiling. ‘Then first thing tomorrow we stake out that store. If they
went in there once, chances are they’ll show up again.’

The carving had taken command of his desk. Nearly every patient who’d come through his doors since he’d opened that morning had commented on it. Even people he wouldn’t have credited with the slightest artistic appreciation had remarked how perfect and lifelike it was – loggers with work-roughened hands, mothers with babies, the elderly
right down to grade school children, all had been intrigued.

Yet not one of them had known the woman who’d carved it.

How could it be? Chase reflected, turning the object in his hands. Shyler had been to see Muir on two occasions, the last six months ago. How did a woman live in a town as small as this for all that time and make no friends and only two contacts? Not only would she have to want
it that way but also she’d have to work damn hard to accomplish it.

But was that in itself any cause for concern? Dan Muir didn’t seem to think so. Even if she was withholding her details, her desire for solitude could be perfectly innocent. She could be a writer, Muir had argued, holed up in her remote cabin for the purpose of finishing her latest book. Or a scientist doing some kind of research
on the wilderness environment.

Chase shook his head. She wasn’t a writer, or a scientist, she was a carver. And no occupation he could think of explained her reticence and heightened anxiety.

Yes, despite what Doctor Muir had assured him, he still had concerns regarding the woman.

‘Who are you hiding from, Shyler O’Neil? Everyone, or someone in particular?’

Chase set the figure back on his
desk, rose and went out into the office. ‘Right, who’s next?’ he said to Elaine.

‘That’s it,’ she answered, straightening over an open file drawer. She grabbed the folders she’d stacked on the cabinet, pushed the drawer closed and crossed to her desk. ‘You’re done for the day. These are tomorrow’s files I’m doing.’

Chase looked across the hall to the waiting room. ‘Maybe you better check again.’

Following his gaze, she gave a small ‘Oh!’ at the sight of the boy asleep on the couch. ‘I’m sorry, I could’ve sworn . . .’ She sat at the computer, drew up the schedule then shook her head. ‘No, I was right. Ella Thomas was your last appointment.’

‘Must be a walk-in. I’ll take care of it.’

Chase crossed the hall and approached the couch, noting as he did the pronounced pallor of the child’s
face. His frown deepened as he scanned the otherwise empty room. Surely the boy wasn’t here alone. Whoever had brought him must be up the back using the bathroom.

He eased a bit closer but stopped short of actually bending
down. The last thing he wanted was for the boy to wake and see a total stranger standing over him. And technically, without a parent present . . .

But the boy wasn’t just
pale, his breathing was shallow. In the end Chase couldn’t stop himself reaching out to check his pulse.

‘Elaine!’ he shouted. She was at his side almost before his voice had faded. ‘Run up the back and get his mother.’

As Elaine ran off he conducted a more thorough examination, his alarm growing by the second. He raced to the closet, pulled out a blanket and was just draping it over the unconscious
boy when Elaine returned.

‘I checked the restroom. No one’s in there. And no one’s out in the parking lot either.’

‘There’s got to be.’

‘I’m telling you there isn’t. The only cars in the lot are ours.’ She stepped to the window. ‘And no one’s out front.’

‘Well, then who . . .?’ Chase shook his head – questions could wait. ‘All right, get Presque Isle hospital on the phone. Tell them we need
emergency evac for a John Doe child, approximately six, with hypothermia and internal injuries.’

The store was closed by the time he reached it but a light out the front illuminated a rubbish bin beside the door. As hungry as he was, Zack stood staring at it for several long minutes, unable to bring himself to open the lid. Finally accepting that he had no choice, that Reece needed food even more than he did, he reached inside and began pushing things around.

He chose only scraps
that were semi-protected or hadn’t come in contact with any of the nastier, more putrid rubbish – half a ham sandwich in a plastic bag, an apple with only two bites out of it, a bit of cherry pie still in its wrapper, a half-box of Cracker Jack and a nearly full carton of chocolate milk.

Reece was still sitting in the bushes across from the doctor’s office when he returned with his booty.

‘Did
you find anything?’ the boy asked eagerly as Zack sat down.

‘Yeah. Here.’

In the faint light cast from the office windows Reece stared at the half-eaten sandwich. ‘There’s bites out of this.’

‘I got a little hungry on the way back.’

Reece raised the sandwich to his face and winced. ‘It smells gross!’