Allison Brennan - The Kill

She didn’t answer, and he pulled out his walkie-talkie. “Travis here. I’m trying to locate Miranda Peterson and Olivia St. Martin.”

Crackle . “Travis? Miranda here. Liv and I are checking out something up the road. It looks like there was a scuffle. Hold.”

Hold ? Dammit, he didn’t like the idea of two women-no matter how well trained-off tracking in the middle of the night when a killer was on the loose.

“Where are you?”

“About point-six miles up the trail from your location.”

“I’ll meet you there. Stay visible.”

“Got it.”

Zack turned to the deputy. “Keep the area secure. I’m heading up the trail to see what they discovered. Keep the channel open-if there’s any trouble, let me know.”

With all the men in the woods, Zack didn’t think Driscoll was around. He was probably hoofing it down the mountain as quickly as possible, hoping he could get to the main road and disappear before they caught up with him.

His cell phone didn’t work up here, so he used his radio on the secure channel to call into the sheriff’s substation and relay the information he’d picked up from the crime scene. Before he hung up, twelve rangers and deputies were on their way to the base of the mountain to follow the middle north fork of the Anchor River up in the hopes of apprehending Driscoll as he made his way down. Another six were on their way to the Boy Scout camp, where a makeshift checkpoint had already been established.

Zack hoped he wasn’t wrong about Driscoll’s flight, but he had a bad feeling it wasn’t close to being over.

Please, God, if you’re listening, please make her okay.

Careful not to trample the evidence, Olivia ran through the scenario in her head.

A small camp had been set up. No fire, but a sleeping bag, backpack with rations and water, and a slick plastic tarp.

Olivia suspected that Driscoll used the tarp to transport the bodies back to town to dump. She wondered why he didn’t leave them in the wilderness. It would take much longer to find them. That was a question for the psychology experts in the Bureau. If she had to hazard a guess, either he wanted their bodies to be found for burial or closure, or he had a subconscious wish to get caught.

Or maybe something less profound: maybe he simply wanted to prove he was smarter than everyone, that he could get away with the “perfect” crime.

The ground was moist up here, littered with pine needles and pebbles and lots of wet dirt. The foot impressions were excellent-she and Miranda had flagged several she thought would make good casts.

The smaller set of footprints led down the mountain, but with the fog growing thicker and her flashlight not providing enough illumination, she wasn’t sure if they belonged to Nina.

“Miranda, come over here,” she called, wanting her friend’s expert advice.

“I just got off the radio with your detective. He’s on his way up.”

“He’s not my detective,” Olivia said.

“Hmm.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Olivia shook her head. “Save it. Look at these.” She shined her light on obvious footprints that headed down the mountain.

“Someone was running, but the ground is moist and they slid here… and down here,” Miranda said.

“They look small.”

“Small for a man.”

“I’m thinking Nina escaped,” Olivia said, hope bubbling. “What if she got away somehow? What if she ran and ran and got away from him? We need to go after her.”

“I agree, but you need to prepare yourself that she might already be dead.”

“No. Why? Why do I have to? She could just as easily be alive. I can’t be too late.”

“This isn’t all on your shoulders, Liv.”

Olivia shook her head. “You don’t understand.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry,” Olivia said. “I didn’t mean that. You understand better than anyone.”

“It’s okay, Liv, but I just want you to be prepared for the worst and hope for the best. Look here-” Miranda parted two spruce saplings and pointed to deeper impressions in the earth. “He pursued her. He may have caught up with her.”

“Or she could have got away,” Olivia said stubbornly.

“Yes, she could have. Or she ran and he caught up to her and killed her. Or he thought it would be easier to find her in the truck. Or maybe he wanted to escape.” Miranda’s eyes were filled with compassion. “Liv, prepare yourself, okay?”

Olivia closed her eyes, pictured Nina dead. Nina’s face turned into Michelle Davidson, then Missy.

“No. She’s alive. I feel it.”

“Olivia!”

Zack’s voice cut through the still fog.

“Over here!” she called, and watched as his shadow emerged. The quality of light was surreal with the flashlight beams bouncing off the mist.

“What did you find?”

Olivia walked him through the evidence. “Zack, I think she escaped. She’s probably scared to death, terrified, and cold. We have to go after her. Miranda has extensive experience tracking.” She glanced at Miranda, hoping she wouldn’t contradict her. Olivia knew she was putting her friend on the spot, but right now finding Nina was the most important thing.

She had to be alive.

“I agree,” Zack said.

Olivia was about to protest when she realized Zack was on her side.

“The three of us will go, stay in sight of one another. I’m going to call in our location.”

When he spoke to the deputy, he learned that Quinn Peterson and Doug Cohn were only fifteen minutes out.

It was surprisingly easy to follow the tracks, even in the dark. The beams from the flashlight made each impression stand out, and they proceeded at a steady pace. At first, the ground dropped away and Olivia feared Nina had fallen down the steep slope to her peril; there were several long, sliding impressions. But only a hundred feet downslope the ground leveled out. In the dark mist, the smell of spruce and pine and damp dirt overpowered all other scents.

Nina had to have been terrified. Running at night from a man who wanted to kill her for no reason her ten-year-old mind could fathom. But what impressed Olivia more than anything was that Nina had the wherewithal to escape in the first place. She was an amazing girl, and though Olivia didn’t know her, she was immensely proud of her.

Nina had zigzagged down the slope for several hundred yards. Even with a down vest over her sweater, Olivia was chilled. Nina had no warm jacket and would be freezing.

A flash of yellow to Olivia’s left had her stopping. Miranda was leading, focused on the ground, while Olivia took the middle and Zack the rear. “Stop,” she called.

“What do you see?”

“Look.” She pointed to a bright yellow spot on the ground. Her heart leapt into her throat.

Nina was last seen wearing a bright yellow windbreaker.

“Stay here,” Zack commanded.

He sidestepped over to the jacket, cautious. He squatted, then came up with the jacket and brought it back.

It was ripped to shreds. From the looks of it, by a sharp knife.

Miranda held out an evidence bag and Zack placed the windbreaker in it, then marked the spot with a red flag.

“Oh no, oh no. You were right Miranda,” Olivia began, her hands shaking.

“She’s not here.”

“But-”

“There’s no blood on the jacket.”

Olivia blinked, looked at the shredded material through the clear bag. “I don’t understand. What happened?”

They were silent for a minute, then Olivia spoke up, tentatively at first. “What if she removed her jacket? What if she realized the color would attract him in the dark?”

“And placed it in an obvious spot. Then went in the opposite direction,” Miranda said, nodding. “I think you’re right.”