What We Found (3 page)

Besides, she had probably died of exposure after getting lost, or after getting drunk and passing out. Maybe she’d OD’d. Maybe she’d committed suicide. Maybe she’d been jogging and a mountain lion attacked her. She wasn’t dressed like a jogger, but…

I had to stop thinking about it. The police would find out.

I left the restroom and turned toward the lunchroom for a cup of coffee. Two steps from the doorway, I heard the shuffle of movement within. I turned and fled back to my office.

I sat at my desk and started doodling on a piece of blank paper, the meaningless swirls and curlicues that had filled the edges of my notebooks in school. The minutes ticked past as I waited, trying not to think, not to remember.

I glanced down at the paper. Among the random squiggles a form took shape—someone lying on her back, one hand curled on her chest. Her head was turned to one side, dark hair half hiding the empty space where the lower part of her face should have been.

I stared at the drawing for a second. What was wrong with her face?

I shook my head, as if I could fling the thought out of my mind. I crumpled the paper and tossed it in the wastebasket. Then I pulled it out again and spent several minutes carefully tearing it into tiny pieces, destroying the image.

Five o’clock finally came. I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. My hands were trembling again, my legs numb with the flood of anxiety. I’d go back to the woods, I’d call…

I stopped in my doorway. Jay still had my phone.

Should I go and demand it from him? It would be reasonable to want it back. But would he guess what I intended? Would seeing him make it harder to do what I needed to do?

Someone was coming down the hall. I pulled my face into a smile as I glanced up.

“Hi, Audra,” Nascha said. “A few of us are heading to the Cactus Club. Thursdays are Ladies Nights, so two-dollar margaritas during Happy Hour, if you’re into that kind of thing. Want to come?”

I shook my head. “Not this time. But thanks.” Had my voice been too loud? Too soft? It seemed to echo from a distance.

She waited while I locked my door and we continued down the hall together. I liked Nascha. She was a few years older than I was, but still in her twenties, with a beauty that clearly showed her Navajo heritage. She was quiet but friendly, with a confidence I lacked. I’d hoped we could be friends. But I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to her.

She turned toward the front of the resort and the parking lot. I hung back and when she paused to glance back at me, I finally forced myself to speak. “Uh, I’m going out the back. Take a little walk before I head home. Too much sitting today.” I managed a chuckle that sounded false to my ears.

Nascha gave me an odd look. “All right. See you tomorrow.”

Several heads turned in the lobby as her graceful figure strolled past. I wanted to catch up with her, head to the bar for a casual drink and some girl chat. I hoped she wouldn’t think me unfriendly, when I so desperately needed friends.

I blinked away tears and turned toward the back of the resort.

When I stepped out on the edge of the golf course, I glanced toward the greenhouses a hundred feet away, but I couldn’t face Jay again. There were other phones.

I kept to the edge of the golf course until I reached the path Jay and I had taken earlier. Waves of hot and cold washed over me as I stepped into the trees. Thirty feet in, I stopped and glanced back. The narrow strip of golf course still visible at the end of the path glowed like the light at the end of a nightmare tunnel. It pulled at me, but I held my ground. No one could see me now. Good. I wasn’t walking all the way down the path again. No way was I going near that body.

But I couldn’t call the police yet. I needed to wait long enough that I could have made it all that way and back, just in case anyone had noticed me head into the woods.

How long had it taken me to get to the path? Maybe five minutes. Another ten and the regular office staff should be gone. I couldn’t do anything about the people who worked evenings, or the guests, but the less commotion I caused, the better. And this would be easier if Jay was gone for the day, if he didn’t find out what I’d done until he heard the story in the morning. As a groundskeeper, he might work irregular hours, though. What would he do if he saw police cars pull up?

Hide, probably.

I paced. A dull ache filled my stomach. I wished I could throw up and be rid of it.

The memory of that smell lingered. I was too far away to smell anything, but still I breathed shallowly. Everything smelled bad, the trees, the musk of the woods behind me, the faint smell of exhaust drifting from the parking lot. Would my nose ever get back to normal?

How much time had passed? It felt endless, but probably no more than a minute or two. Without my phone, I couldn’t check.

The woods loomed over me. The afternoon heat pressed in. I gave a sobbing gasp.

I ran out and across the golf course, headed for the men gathered around the nearest tee. I ran as if something was chasing me. My legs burned and I gasped for breath, but I couldn’t slow.

Another few minutes wouldn’t matter at all. But I ran.

Half an hour later, I paced the larger clearing, where Jay and I had turned off the main path. My hair hung damp against my neck, but despite the heat I hugged myself. I could hear the murmur of soft voices from the police officers with the body. My mind played back over events, starting with the surreal feeling of dialing 911. Those three tones hit me like a punch to the gut. You didn’t dial 911 unless it was a real emergency.

The golfers, a group of middle-aged men, had seemed more intrigued than horrified. The one who’d lent me his phone had asked if he should take a look at the body, to confirm what it was. I’d refused to go back there.

The police had arrived ten minutes later, two officers, one probably in his forties and the other younger. I had already forgotten their names.

A branch snapped. I whirled toward the path back to the golf course. A man was coming toward me. He wore some kind of uniform; his long-sleeved shirt had a patch on the shoulder, but the shirt was tan rather than the dark blue of the police uniforms. I drew back to the edge of the clearing, my heart racing, even though logic told me he was probably there in some official capacity.

He stepped into the clearing, a small man in his fifties with gray hair and a mustache. He nodded and gave his name, but by the time he finished his introduction, the only word I remembered was “sheriff.” I pointed to the side path with a shaky hand and he left.

I wanted to get out of there. I wanted to start running and not look back. But they’d asked me to stay around to answer questions.

I took a deep breath. I’d done nothing wrong.

But I didn’t want to answer any questions.

A few minutes later, one of the officers and the sheriff came back. The scene seemed to blur for a moment, as if they were walking through a haze. The older police officer stopped in front of me while the sheriff hung back a few feet. The officer said, “We’d like to ask you a few questions, ma’am.”

I nodded, but my throat felt too tight to speak.

“How exactly did you find the body?”

I swallowed twice and cleared my throat. “Um, I just wanted to go for a little walk. Get some fresh air. Clear my head. I had a headache.” I swallowed again. Stop talking so much. Just stick to the basics. “I, uh, wandered into the woods. And then I smelled something.” My throat closed up and I dragged in a couple of shallow breaths. The smell of evergreen trees and parched weeds filled my nose, and I told myself I couldn’t possibly smell anything else from here.

“I looked around a little. I was curious. And then I saw….”

He half smiled. “You saw her looking back at you.”

A spasm twisted my stomach and I pressed a hand to it. “I suppose.” So it was a woman. “Do you think you’ll be able to identify her?”

He nodded. “Finding her is a real breakthrough.”

Breakthrough? What did that mean? They were looking for her? A missing person case? “Did you….” I forced the words out. “Could you tell … how she died?”

He just looked at me.

I gave a helpless shrug. “I keep hoping it was … that she didn’t suffer. That it was quick and … some kind of accident.”

His face tightened. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

I gulped. Somehow the thought of violence—human violence—made the death worse. It was one thing to discover an accidental death, to see that the victim had a real burial and to bring closure to a family.

It was entirely different to uncover a crime. This was far from over.

“How close did you go to the body?” he asked.

I hunched my shoulders. “Not very. Just close enough to see what it was.”

“Did you stay at the top of the bank or go down?”

I hesitated. I honestly couldn’t remember. It was like waking from a dream and only having bits and pieces still clear. But I wouldn’t have gone any closer than necessary. “I stayed at the top.”

“And then what did you do?”

“I ran back out to the golf course and found someone with a phone and called the police.”

“Did you see anyone else?”

I shook my head. I hadn’t seen anyone else hanging around suspiciously. I hadn’t seen anyone
else
, besides the person I was with.

He looked down. He seemed to be studying my feet. Then he looked up and held my eyes. “You’re telling me you came out here alone, and you didn’t see anyone else while you were here. Is that what you’re saying?”

I swallowed and nodded. Oh God, I was lying to the police. Not just the sin of omission, but flat-out lies. How had I been so stupid that I didn’t see it coming? I’d assumed all I had to do was point out the body. I hadn’t thought beyond that. But his questions sounded suspicious.

Was I being paranoid? Was this always the way the police talked? Or had I missed something?

Footprints. It was dry, not muddy, and I hadn’t noticed any footprints, but I hadn’t been looking for them. The police probably had some way of identifying footprints even in the hard packed dirt and dry grass.

And hadn’t the ground been a little softer on the bank? I thought I recalled my foot slipping a little. Maybe I had gone down the bank farther than I’d thought.

I stared at the officer while the world blurred. I felt as if I was going to pass out. I wanted to pass out, if it would get me away from the questions.

“It’s important we find out exactly what happened,” the officer said.

I nodded, but I couldn’t speak. Details were coming back to me. I had walked down the path behind Jay, but I’d gone back in front of him. That meant his footprints were both under and over mine. If the police had seen that, they knew I hadn’t been alone.

What had happened to the joint? Had he taken it with him or left it behind?

The world seemed to spin and my knees felt weak. A hand gripped my arm. I blinked and tried to focus on the officer’s face.

“Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?”

I glanced around at the patchy grass and dirt of the clearing. The only clean place to sit was on the log near the body, and I wasn’t going back there. “I need to get away from here,” I whispered.

The officer and the sheriff exchanged glances. Then the police officer said, “Mike will walk you back to the resort.”

I nodded and kept my head down as I edged back to the path. My heart was still hammering, screaming at me to run, but it took all my focus to put one foot in front of the other. I felt like I had the flu. I felt like I was in a dream. On some level I still couldn’t believe this had happened.

At least I’d done what I had to do. The woman in the woods would not be lost any longer. I’d done that much right.

I heard the soft rustle of leaves as the sheriff walked behind me. I could feel him looking at me. What did he think? Did he see a quiet, polite young woman? Or did he see a liar and a coward?

I should tell the police the truth. Jay wouldn’t like it. Maybe he’d get in trouble. That shouldn’t be my problem.

But if I changed my story now, would they believe anything I said? Jay would deny it. I couldn’t prove he’d been there. And his father managed the resort, he had friends there, while I was new. If it came down to choosing sides, I didn’t think I’d have anyone on mine.

I stepped out onto the golf course. The smell of meat and smoke touched my nose, and my stomach roiled, before I realized it was only dinner smells drifting from the resort’s kitchen vent. I turned to the sheriff. “Thank you. I’m all right now. Can I go?”

“They’ll want to talk to you again, probably later tonight. They’ll call to let you know when.”

I nodded. They’d taken my address and phone number earlier, even looked at my driver’s license. But Jay still had my phone. I couldn’t think of a single good excuse for why they shouldn’t call it.

I stared at the sheriff for a moment. Then I turned and walked toward the parking lot. I’d survived one trial, but I faced an obstacle course ahead.

Light glinted off the windows of the greenhouse. Was my phone in there, with Jay? Had he left and taken it with him?

I needed my phone. A visit to the greenhouse was worth a chance. If Jay was there, I didn’t have to tell him what I’d done. Just grab my phone and leave. The police hadn’t used their sirens, and the way the greenhouse windows were tinted Jay wouldn’t be able to see out. He wouldn’t know the police were there unless he’d seen them when he was leaving.

I glanced back toward the path. I didn’t see the sheriff, so he must’ve gone back to the body. I changed direction and a minute later opened the door to the greenhouse and a wave of humidity. Light and greenery filled the large room, at least forty feet across and twenty feet deep. I didn’t see anyone among the long tables filled with plants, but I heard someone moving to my left. The sounds were coming from big racks of equipment at one end of the room. At the other end, I spotted a closed door in a plain white wall. Maybe an office? Worth a try.