Wilderness Sabotage Read online

  Her eyes followed the steep incline of the trail that barely made an indentation in the side of the dirt and rock wall. No wonder they’d closed it off.

  “I think we should stay close. The light is dim and I don’t want any missteps.” He reached out his hand for her to hold. “Just in case.”

  “If I fall off, I don’t want to take you with me. You broke my fall last time, but if it’d been far—”

  “I’m the law of the land around here.” He winked and she knew he wasn’t serious, but the edge to his voice made it clear he wasn’t in a mood to argue. “Let’s get to safety.”

  She placed her left hand in his and followed him. He had a giant sweat stain in the middle of his back, evidence of the physical strain he’d endured. “Think I can use my phone light to—”

  “If we’re dealing with a murderer, I don’t think we can risk drawing any attention to our location, especially down here without any camouflage.” As if to highlight his point, the sound of engines carried with the wind. Above, somewhere on the top of the cliff, two beams of light bounced around, shining into the darkening skies. The lights seemed to be from a bigger vehicle than an ATV or snowmobile, though.

  “Do you think they’re friend or foe?” he asked.

  “Well, either way, we should get up and find out. Right?”

  He turned around to face her and reached for her other hand. “Hang on. There are some iffy spots, and with the snow...” His voice trailed off as he helped her up and over a boulder until they were standing side by side again. He dropped her other hand and turned back to the trail. His pace was fast enough that she struggled a little to keep up.

  “You should take the gloves back, at least,” she said. “I’ve got your coat.”

  “I’m fine.” His foot pushed through the snow a little too forcefully and she could feel his balance shake. She squeezed his hand tighter and pulled back as hard as she could. He found his footing but still she didn’t let go. The way his fingers trembled revealed just how close he’d been to falling.

  “Snow bridge,” he finally said. “Looked like part of the ledge but really was just air. I’ll take it a little slower now.” He took a bigger step, this time testing for firmness before he pulled her over the hole.

  They walked in silence for a few minutes. She hated to admit she hadn’t changed, but he’d been right earlier. She needed to talk. If her mind and mouth stayed busy, the physical reactions to stress were kept to a minimum. “You said you were worried the saboteurs knew something that the impact and feasibility report didn’t cover. Why?”

  “More a precautionary action than a concern. There’s been a problem or two in other states. Not ours. In every organization there is a bad apple, and sometimes big money can entice.”

  “That’s a really vague answer, Shawn.”

  “Maybe, but you’re a reporter, and I happen to like my job—well, part of it.”

  He was scared she would make him lose his job? She would’ve thought he’d known her better. Though, admittedly, she’d argued that he didn’t have the right to say he knew her. Sometimes finding the truth proved exhausting. “Fine. Officially, until we find safety, everything you say is off the record.”

  He exhaled. “When sabotage happens you can’t help but wonder why. So I started to wonder if there really was a plan to address the needs of the Greater Sage-Grouse, like the geothermal plant impact report indicated. Otherwise, why would environmental groups get involved?”

  “Are sage-grouse like little birds?”

  “Well, they can get about two feet tall, but yeah.” He shrugged. “Part of my job is understanding the wildlife habitat of the land. Sage-grouse are a big deal in this area.”

  “Why are you so sure an environmental group is responsible?”

  “This type of sabotage... It’s mild and aimed at the construction.”

  “I wouldn’t call murder mild.”

  He was silent for a second. “A valid point, but we don’t know if the sabotage and murder are connected, do we? The saboteurs didn’t touch a thing while the control building and the air-cooler structure assembly was being built. The only thing left is pad preparation for the drilling rigs to be assembled. The sabotage started when they got closer to the grouse habitat. It just makes sense to suspect it’s all about the grouse.”

  “Did it make sense to your supervisors?”

  He shrugged but kept his face forward, watching the trail carefully as they climbed. “When I told my boss, he didn’t think the sabotage warranted extra resources.”

  “So you suspect he plays a part in this?”

  His spine straightened for a second. “To be fair, he doesn’t have much to work with. We are notoriously short-staffed.”

  “Then what’s the big deal about this kind of grouse?”

  “People travel from all around the world to witness the famous male courtship call. The male bird changes shape and the call is kind of comical, but their numbers have decreased at an unprecedented rate. Since they’re an umbrella species—”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Saving their habitat would mean we’re also saving a bunch of other species that rely on the same habitat.”

  A howl broke the stillness and sent a chill up her spine. Other howls and yips followed, some long and soulful, others more like a pack of teenage girls screaming. They carried on for a few minutes, and she didn’t bother trying to speak over their party of sorts.

  “They’re just dogs,” Shawn said.

  “Yeah, dogs that can eat you.”

  Maybe she found coyote packs a little scary, but logically, she knew there was minimal risk. She didn’t want to think on the subject much longer, though. Darkness was closing in fast. “So you called in the sabotage tip because you wanted to keep the government accountable,” she said instead. “I can get behind that. We all need accountability. It’s why I believe in my job.”

  “Without enough manpower to protect the land and find out for myself, I had to know. If the mitigation plan for the grouse was working, then why would environmentalists see the need to sabotage?”

  She mulled over his words. “I can’t let myself make assumptions when writing a story, but your answer is better than I got from anyone at the plant. You seem to know this area well.”

  He took an unusually long stride on a steep decline and turned to help her, with both hands again, to make the same climb. He held both of her gloved hands for an extra second before he smiled and turned back to the trail. “I’ve always liked the wilderness, you know that. I enjoy my job—well, except for the law enforcement part.”

  “I have to say that, given a murderer is after me, I don’t find your honesty to be very encouraging at the moment.” She tried to use a teasing lilt, but the incline made her breathing a little strained.

  He shook his head. “Just because I don’t enjoy it doesn’t mean I’m not good at my job.” He turned and smiled. “And you’re clearly good at yours, asking all the right questions.”

  “I’m glad you think so because I have one more question.”

  He turned and pointed. “Go ahead. I think we’re almost to the top.”

  She hesitated, but the past kept flooding her brain with questions she might be able to finally put to rest. In high school, she’d dated Shawn in secret to avoid her twin brother, Eddie, making things all weird. The night of Shawn and Eddie’s graduation, they’d gone to a party they should never have attended. Eddie had left intoxicated, driving Shawn’s car.

  The last time she’d seen Shawn was in a hospital hallway where she waited while her parents stayed with Eddie, who was unconscious with a broken back and a poor prognosis. Eddie had managed to prove the doctors wrong, though. Two years later he had fully healed and worked his way back to full functionality. Not that Shawn had ever bothered to find out.

  He hadn’t so much as sa
id goodbye.

  She should leave the issue alone, but her heart and mind refused to quiet. Now was her chance to find out the whole truth. “Why’d you leave?”

  * * *

  Shawn’s heart beat harder as the trail turned into a steeper, thinner incline. Jackie’s question made his head hurt. Part of him had wanted her to ask, to get everything out in the open, but the other wanted the past to stay buried deep.

  “I would’ve forgiven you.” Jackie’s voice was soft. “I mean, I did anyway—it just took a little longer since I had to forgive you for leaving like that, too.”

  His jaw tensed. He shouldn’t have needed to ask forgiveness in the first place. What he had really needed was someone to be on his side. It wasn’t his fault Eddie had sneaked off and played a drinking game. Everyone assumed Shawn had known Eddie had been drinking when he’d taken his keys.

  Even with the fabric of the gloves separating their touch, he wanted to let go of Jackie’s hand. He took another step up the path. Duty kept his grip firm and secure. He would get her to safety. “If I had to do it all over again...” He had hoped saying something like that would put a quick and easy end to the subject, but he wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence.

  “What? What would you do different?”

  Honestly, he didn’t know. Each time he replayed the sequences of that night, he still wouldn’t have had the knowledge that Eddie had been drinking, so he didn’t see how any of it was in his control. If the night happened all over again, Eddie still would have taken his keys and ended up in the hospital, and Wolfe would still say he never wanted to see Shawn’s face again. Jackie probably didn’t know that tidbit, but he wasn’t sure what good it would do if she did.

  “I...I’d say goodbye,” he finally answered. For that, he truly did regret. But he’d never forget the disgust and accusation in her eyes that night. Between her, Wolfe and the entire town, Shawn had endured shame that he didn’t deserve yet could never fully erase.

  He took his eyes off the trail for a second to gauge their progress. Three more steps and they’d reach higher ground. The cold had begun to seep past his defenses. He wouldn’t ask for his coat back, though. He just needed to get his bearings and get them to that trailer. Walking through the snow that already had several inches built up would take a good half hour at minimum to go a single mile, though.

  He reached the top and pulled her the rest of the way up to him with a final heave. Directly above them, the stars and the moon had brightened the darkness. He glanced down and could still see the hurt in Jackie’s face. She knew he wasn’t telling her the full story, but he wasn’t ready.

  He turned and trudged toward the edge of the forest. He glanced at his phone with the light on dim and pulled up the compass. “If we go due southeast, I think we’ll run into the trailer.”

  “How many miles?”

  He dreaded that question. “I’m...I’m not sure. Five?” It could be as many as ten, though. He wasn’t sure now that he couldn’t see where they were exactly. He’d never traveled there on foot.

  Headlights swung to the east, one from a truck and another from what looked like a snowmobile. He pulled Jackie behind the closest evergreen tree to stay hidden from sight.

  “Are those ATVs with the truck?”

  “Looks like only a snowmobile. I didn’t see an ATV.”

  “So maybe it’s good guys,” she whispered.

  “Maybe.” He reached for his holster out of instinct. The snowmobile took off again, revving off into the distance, but the truck headlights stayed on, as if stuck within the grove of trees. “Still, they look at least a mile or so away.”

  She peeked around the tree.

  His muscles tightened as he tried his best to not shiver. The temperature dipped faster than expected and his back was still damp from the exertion. The wind howled past them. Thankfully, it hadn’t started snowing yet. Fresh snow on top of the packed snow would make the journey even slower. Hiking in the dark, without so much as the use of a flashlight, was foolish. He didn’t know this terrain well enough by foot to know all the dangers. What if there was another snow bridge?

  “I think we might have to consider finding shelter for the night. This is the point where your dad would stop and make a snow cave, right?”

  “Yeah, well, Dad had two other people helping him shovel so it wouldn’t take eight hours. Plus, what if we don’t give the snow enough time to harden and those trees get an extra boost of wind and dump enough snow on it to collapse, trapping us?” She spoke extra fast, probably to keep her teeth from chattering.

  “At this rate, I’m a little concerned that we won’t make it to that trailer tonight.”

  She gave him a side look. “Your turn.” She took off the coat and shoved it in his arms. “Hurry before I change my mind. You can’t rescue me if I have to drag you somewhere, and I’m pretty sure starting a fire right now would send a signal to those men that we’re still alive.”

  He begrudgingly took the coat, determined only to wear it for a few minutes at most. “Let’s keep moving, then, and see if it’s friend or foe inside that truck.”

  He tripped over one of the many rocks and roots hiding underneath the snow. The progress proved slower than he feared. Jackie didn’t complain, though. He counted silently to 120 and returned the coat to her. She raised an eyebrow but accepted. On and on they went sharing the coat back and forth until they got within a hundred yards of the red pickup truck.

  “I know that truck.” He could never forget, really. He knew that guy was the one who had dug up the wheel ruts left by the Oregon Trail pioneers, but he had no proof. “Darrell Carrillo. He’s a metal detectorist, but the worst kind. He’s also the hiker that’s been missing. He wasn’t supposed to be here.” But that figured.

  “So if he has a truck, maybe he just got lost?” She huffed. “But then why would the snowmobile lead him into the trees? Shawn, we have to assume he’s in league with the man who tried to kill me.”

  He wanted to think of an innocent reason to explain the truck being in the forest, but his interactions with the man led him to believe otherwise. “Maybe.” When they reached the small clearing within the trees, the lights took on an ominous glow. The truck appeared to have slammed into a tree.

  Nothing about the day had made sense except for the constant current of danger. So while his normal course of action would be to rush to see if there was anyone injured inside, apprehension filled his core. He held a hand out to Jackie. “Do me a favor and stay back while I find out what’s going on.”

  He placed one hand on his weapon and the other hand on the back of the truck, working his way forward. In the driver’s seat sat the missing hiker, his forehead leaning on top of the steering wheel.

  Shawn surveyed the surroundings, his hand on his gun. No one else seemed anywhere close. The snowmobile tracks headed southeast, in the same direction of the path the construction workers would’ve used.

  “Is everything okay?” Jackie asked, peeking out from her hiding place behind another tree.

  He opened the driver’s door and the stench of alcohol wafted past him. “Definitely not okay,” he said. He placed two fingers on the man’s neck. No pulse. He moved to check the wrist, just in case there was any hope. “I don’t think he’s going to hurt you.”

  Jackie stepped out into the open. “Oh? So it’s a friendly hiker?”

  “Not exactly friendly, but we did find him.” He exhaled. “Unfortunately, he’s dead.”

  FOUR

  Jackie looked away from the man hunched over the wheel.

  Cold. That foremost thought played on repeat and numbed her mind, even when presented with such shocking news.

  The trees surrounding them gave them a little protection but not enough to hold the wind back. Although she was wearing Shawn’s coat, her jaw quivered and every muscle vibrated.

  Shawn took out
his phone and grimaced. “If my fingers would cooperate, that would be nice.”

  “What are you doing?” She came closer—the last thing she wanted to do, as she could no longer avoid the sight of the hiker. At least there was no blood.

  Shawn grunted and seemed to take a lot of effort to get his hand to stop trembling enough to touch a small symbol on his phone screen. “I just want to turn the flash off. The headlights may still be on, but if there are sudden flashes of light from my phone, we might get our unwelcome visitors back to investigate.”

  The light from the inside of the cab seemed dim but illuminated Shawn enough that she could see his lips had taken on a decidedly bluish tint. “We need to get warm, Shawn.” They were running out of time before hypothermia became a risk. The wet spot on the back of his shirt was a surefire recipe for it. She moved to take the coat off. It was long past time to give it back to him.

  “No. Keep it on.” He pressed his lips together in a firm line, determination lining his features. “I have to move him.”

  “The body?” She couldn’t keep the horror out of her voice but realized why he’d decided on the course of action. Trucks had heaters. The accident didn’t look too bad, structurally, for the truck. The headlights were on, so the truck still had a working battery. They could probably drive back to the road and make it to civilization within a couple of hours. She’d find a hotel with a fireplace and hot cocoa and one of those thick terry cloth robes. Her shoulders rose to her ears, bracing against the wind. They just needed to get inside that truck.

  “Yes. I have to move him. That’s why I need to take photos.” He moved his phone in several different angles around the body. “I hope the lighting is decent enough.”

  Crime scene photos, she finally realized. “You don’t think his death was an accident.”

  His eyes darted to her and back to the phone. “That’s not my call to make. It appears to be an accident. If I were an optimistic man, I would hope that the people on the snowmobile witnessed the accident and are heading back to civilization to call it in. If that’s the case, our best chance for survival is to stay put and be found along with...” He bent at an odd angle to take more photos of the man’s shoes near the pedals. “Along with him,” he finally said. “But we investigate every death, accidental or not.”