Sara (18 page)

twenty-eight

It didn’t take long for Sara to gather the items she needed for the next day’s hike out of these mountains. By noon she had cleaned the cabin and written a note to the owner, thanking him for providing her shelter and food. She had also detailed her plans for the following day, just in case something was to happen to prevent her from making it to safety.

             
It had been a good day. She was adjusting to the pain in her left arm, and the knife wound under her right breast was bound tightly with fresh gauze and a bed sheet torn into strips. Sara’s homemade shoes weren’t comfortable, but they served their purpose well. Not that she had ever concerned herself with the comfort of her footwear. She smiled at the thought. Her dad would tease her incessantly about the number of buckles and straps on her sandals or boots.

             
“I can be marvelous,” she would always say, “or I can be boring. I choose to be marvelous.”

             
Memories of home lifted her spirit. Sara figured that one full day of hiking should deliver her from this nightmare. The first thing she would do, after calling her father, is stand under a steaming shower until the hot water ran cold. She visualized using up an entire bar of soap to remove the stench of the man who had raped her. And when that stench was finally gone, she would concentrate on removing the man himself.

             
The sun was high and it was a cloudless day. The warmth felt good on her skin after a frigid night without a fire. Sara walked almost a mile west of the cabin and climbed to the crest of a weathered granite formation. On top, she found a comfortable spot on the smooth stone and sat to watch the sky. Small wisps of clouds glided eastward, gathering strength then evaporating before her eyes. Sara laid back and closed her eyes, enjoying the golden warmth that enveloped her, and she slept.

Jordan stood at the side of the empty grave and shook his head repeatedly.

              “Maybe the coyotes drug her off…or a cougar, or a bear---”

             
“Yes, Jordan, and the bear piled the dirt neatly for us there at the head of the grave.” Pop scanned the tree line looking for clues. “Tell me everything you did to the girl.”

             
“I told you already. I tried to cut her throat, just like you said, but your knife was not sharp enough. She started crying and begging me to let her live so I sat on her and stabbed her in the chest, right between her tits, just like you told me to do.”

             
“And why do you think she was dead?” Pop ignored Jordan’s derogatory reference to the girl’s breasts.

             
“Well, she stopped screaming, and I saw her eyes roll back in her head just like they do on the girls you kill. I watched her exhale and not take in another breath. She was dead, Pop. I killed her. I’m sure of it.”

             
Pop shook his head and walked around the grave. “I don’t see it, Jordan. There is not much blood in the hole. If you had stabbed her in the heart, there would be more blood. If she was dead and an animal found her, there would be bits and pieces of her lying all over the place. Do you see bits and pieces, Jordan?”

             
“No, Pop. I don’t see any bits and pieces.”

             
“What do you see, Jordan?”

             
Jordan looked into the grave. “Just one of her shoes, Pop.”

             
Pop began walking east, toward the tree line. “Let’s look in the trees. Maybe she crawled over there and died. Are you sure you stabbed her, Jordan?”

             
Jordan jogged to catch up. “Yes, I’m positive. You saw the blood on your knife, Pop. You even said, ‘Good job,’ after you wiped it off.”

             
Pop entered the tree line and began searching the ground for clues. They walked slowly, looking for traces of blood, or drag marks, or ‘bits and pieces’. Finally stopping, Pop kneeled next to a game trail that led east up the mountain.

             
Pointing at the ground, he said, “Look here.”

             
A small dip in the trail had collected enough water from the rain to create mud. The water had since evaporated and left the perfect outline of a bare footprint. Pop stood and looked east up the mountain, then back at Jordan.

             
“Let’s go find her and do the job right this time.”

twenty-nine

Mike stood next to his car and shook hands with the last few remaining volunteers.

             
“Thank you,” he said solemnly. “At least we know where she’s not.” He thought of the young kidnapped girl in Utah who later recalled listening to searchers calling her name as they walked past the hole she was being kept in. His world was collapsing around him and he wasn’t sure he could stop it from happening.

             
Finally, Carol Iverson stepped up when the last car was pulling from the parking lot at the community center.

             
“Are you okay, Mike?” she asked.

             
Mike brought his hand to his cheek absent mindedly to cover his puffy lower lip. “I’ll be alright,” he said.

             
Carol leaned close and gently took Mike’s hand away from his face, then kissed him lightly on the lips. She held the kiss for a moment then stepped back and looked into his eyes. “You are a good man, Mike Haller. You are a good father and you didn’t deserve what you got today.”

             
Mike’s heart was pounding from the kiss. He finally looked away. “Jean is just afraid, that’s all.”

             
“Do you really believe that?”

             
Mike stood for a long moment and stared at the mountains. “I’m not sure she’s completely wrong. I should have done things differently, I guess.”

             
Carol smiled. “We should all have done things differently,” she said. “That seems to be the moral to the human story.”

             
She stepped closer and kissed Mike again. Her lips were soft and warm and her mouth tasted like strawberry pie, and Mike’s bones turned to liquid. Carol’s hands strayed up his back and stopped at his neck. She cupped his face in her hands and broke the kiss. Mike could feel his body shaking, like he had never been kissed before.

             
“You are a good man, Mike,” she whispered. “You need to find Sara and bring her home. You are the only person who can do it. I believe in you, and I can guarantee that right now, your daughter believes in you.”

             
Mike stood a little straighter now. “You’re right,” he said, then cleared his throat to break the trance he was in. “I need to speak to Harry. Were you able to reach him?”

             
Carol smiled and stepped back. Retrieving her cell phone from a pocket, she checked for service and the time. “He landed in Phoenix about a half-hour ago. Let’s give him a call.”

             
Carol spoke with Harry a moment and explained what was happening before handing the phone to Mike.

             
“Mike, dammit,” Harry said. “I can’t leave the country for a minute before you go out and get into trouble.” His tone turned serious. “Tell me everything you’ve got and what I can do to help.”

             
Mike recapped the story of Sara’s disappearance and his suspicion about the tow truck driver’s involvement. He briefly shared the sticky situation involving Sheriff Barnes, then finally got to the point.

             
“I don’t know, Harry. I was thinking that a man in your line of work might be able to get access to the GPS records for the tow truck.”

             
Harry grunted. “I am in the mining industry, Mr. Haller. I mine for precious metals in Central and South America. That’s it!”

             
Mike deflated.

             
“Now,” Harry continued, “with that said, give me the information you have and I’ll get what you need by tomorrow morning.”

             
Mike read off all the information he had about Jordan’s truck and the GPS service that handled the DW Towing account. He was interrupted several times by cheers and laughter at Harry’s end of the connection.

             
Mike finally asked, “It sounds like people are happy to see you, Harry. Is that Taylor I hear in the background?”

             
Harry laughed. “Yes, that is Taylor Paul Iverson, and he is a very happy boy right now.”

             
Mike couldn’t help but laugh at the cheer that was coming through the cell phone.

             
Harry finally broke away to a quieter place. “Mike, I will call you first thing in the morning with the information you need. I will be in Denver tomorrow afternoon. If you find yourself in need of a man with my talents, all you have to do is ask.”

             
The noise on Harry’s end picked up again. “Now, hang up the phone so Carol won’t hear this ruckus and become suspicious.”

             
Mike folded Carol’s phone shut and handed it back to her. Thoughts of a life with this woman fluttered through his mind. A life where Sara was home and healthy, and Taylor was growing into as fine a young man as his father could ever have hoped for, and he and Carol…

             
“For the first time in six months I have no obligations,” Carol said. “Would you like to have dinner?”

             
Mike’s heart hesitated as adrenalin flooded through his veins. He stepped forward, held Carol by the shoulders, and kissed her. He felt like a teenager, in-love for the first time.

             
Finally, he looked into her eyes. “I’m afraid my company would be somewhat depressing,” he said. “But, if I can take a rain check until this is all over, I would love nothing more than to have dinner with you.”

             
Carol smiled. “Right answer, Mike,” she said.