Kate Carlisle - One Book In The Grave

“Yeah, you were.”

“Thanks.” He shook his head in disgust. “Everything Angie ever did was calculated and manipulative.”

“True.” I sighed. “Look, I’m going to give Derek a call. He needs to see this note.” I walked toward the hall.

“Wait,” he said, following me. “Let me have the letter. I want to show it to Emily. She should know the truth about what happened.”

“Okay, but be careful with it. We’ll need to show it to Inspector Lee. I’ll be in my room, on the phone with Derek.”

“Where’d Emily go?” He looked around, confused. “She was sitting right there at the dining room table a few minutes ago.”

I frowned. “I thought she was in your room with you.”

“No.”

“Maybe she’s in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He headed down the hall, calling her name, but got no response. He came jogging back to the living room. “Is she in the kitchen?”

“No.” We could both see the kitchen from the dining room. “Maybe she’s outside.”

“Okay, you check the garage. I’ll check the yard.”

I grabbed his arm. “Don’t worry. She knows better than to walk too far away.”

Fear was alive and glittering in his eyes. “I know, but earlier she was talking about hiking down to the stream.” He opened the sliding-glass door.

A woman’s piercing scream echoed through the canyon.

“That’s her. Emily!” Max shouted, and dashed out the door. He crossed the small terrace in two strides and raced toward the top of the narrow footpath we’d found the other day. Within seconds, he disappeared down the steep hill.

I sprinted back into the house and down the hall to my room, where I grabbed my cell phone. Then I bolted outside and over to the edge of the canyon to watch Max’s progress as he hurtled dangerously down the treacherous dirt path. I cringed as a miniature rock slide caused his feet to wobble and he had to stop a few times to regain his balance.

“Be careful,” I shouted. Okay, that wasn’t helpful advice at this point, so I did the only other useful thing I could think of. I wanted to call Derek, but Gabriel was closer, so I pressed his number on speed dial.

He answered on the first ring and I’d never been so happy to hear his voice.

“Emily’s been kidnapped,” I said in a breathless rush. I didn’t know that for sure, but why else would she scream? Why else would she be gone? “Please come quickly. And can you call Derek and ask him to get up here? Hurry, Gabriel. I’m going into the canyon with Max to look for her.”

“Damn it, Brook-”

“Can’t wait, Gabriel. I have to go.”

“Br-”

I ended the call before he could start shouting. And if I didn’t want to hear Gabriel’s shouts, I really didn’t want to hear Derek’s. I hated knowing he would worry for the next hour, all the way over from San Francisco. But I couldn’t think about that right now. I shoved the phone into my pocket and followed Max down into the canyon.

I was halfway down the canyon when I skidded on a patch of loose rock. I fell on my ass, but managed to grab hold of a small, prickly bush. My hand was stinging and my butt ached, but I couldn’t complain. The little bush had kept me from plummeting headfirst down the steep, rocky hill.

I pushed myself up off the ground, then jolted at the sound of car tires screeching in the distance. A plume of dust and dirt rose into the air from the bottom of the canyon a few hundred yards away.

“Son of a bitch!” Max shouted, his voice echoing against the solid rock walls. And I knew without a doubt that Emily was gone.

I sat down in the dirt and called Gabriel back.

“This ends right here and now,” Max said, stalking the living room like a caged lion. “I’m not hiding anymore. They’ve managed to find out where we are within days, anyway, so why bother?”

“You’re right,” Derek said, his tone deadly serious. “There’s no use being discreet now that they’ve taken Emily.”

He’d broken world speed records getting back to Dharma by two o’clock and had quickly run back to our room to change from his expensive, navy pin-striped suit into dark jeans, a black T-shirt, and black leather jacket. When he walked back into the living room, I took one look at him and had to remember to breathe. The man looked damn good in black-that’s all I can say.

“I got a glimpse of the car,” Max said, pounding his fist against his palm as he circled the room. “I couldn’t see the exact make or model and it was too muddy to read the license plate, but I could tell it was a dark burgundy van.”

“Late model?”

“No. Sort of boxy, so it’s got to be a few years old. I drew a picture of it and also sketched the tire tracks.” He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and smoothed it out on the dining table.

“Are you sure these are the tracks of the same van?”

“Hell, yeah. I went running after it when they took off with Emily, so I know which tracks were theirs.”

“Brilliant, Max,” Derek said, patting him on the back. “The police should be able to match this drawing to one of the survivalists’ vehicles. Smart of you to think of it.”

Max shrugged. “I had nothing better to do once you talked me off the ledge.”

Earlier, I could barely get Max to come up from the canyon floor. When he did finally hike back up to the house, he was enraged, out of his mind with fear, and frantic to go after Emily. He was threatening to take out his rifle and shoot someone-and I couldn’t blame him. But I also couldn’t let him go off half crazed, so I got Derek back on the phone and begged him to talk Max down.

Whatever Derek said to him had worked. Max wasn’t exactly calm, but he was willing to wait for Derek and Gabriel to join him in the fight.

Gazing across the room at Derek, who’d been scowling ever since he arrived at the house, I said, “You’d think we all had tracking devices planted on us with the way they find us so fast.”

“It does seem that way, love,” Derek said. “But I’ve checked my car each time. It’s clean.”

It was a very good sign that he called me love , because I knew he had to be furious with me for going into the canyon. But I couldn’t let Max go down there alone. Not that I had been much help to him. My hand still smarted from the stickers I’d collected from that prickly bush. I’d slathered it in antiseptic cream as soon as I got back to the house.

It was also good to know that Derek had actually been checking for tracking devices regularly. I never would have thought of that, but we’d already established beyond a doubt that his mind worked differently from mine.

“Hey, maybe they planted a device in the book,” I said, then shook my head. “No, that’s just stupid.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “At this point, nothing is out of the question. Bring me the book and I’ll check it.”

I had to bring it to him in pieces. He sat at the dining room table and went through every inch of every page, explaining that there were now tracking devices on the market that were as small and thin as a piece of tape.

“The book is clean,” he said finally.

“So these guys are just good trackers,” I said.

“Seems to be the case,” Derek said, still scowling. It had to be irritating as hell to know he was being bested by a group of local yokels. I was right there with him, and couldn’t wait to nail whoever had been dogging us all over northern California.

I gathered up the pieces of the book and carried them back to the desk in our bedroom. I took a minute to arrange them neatly on the desk, then pulled out my cell phone and took a photograph of the display. Under normal circumstances in my bookbinding studio at home, I would’ve been documenting every step of my work on Beauty , so it was time to play catch-up.