07 Reckless (3 page)

Sean hadn’t wanted Lucy to leave with Ann but it was the only real option they had. If there really was a missing boy—and Sean didn’t see why the couple would lie about it—he was in trouble. His mother said he had a jacket but the cold was only one danger. Animals generally stayed away from people, but there had been known bear attacks in this backcountry, where there weren’t many people around. Aside from the cold, lack of water was the number one danger. After three days, he would be severely dehydrated. However, if the boy walked straight in any direction, in less than three days he would find a road. Unfortunately, lost children tended to wander in circles.

After Ann and Lucy had left the campground, Jeff said to Sean, “We searched and called for him. He’s not within earshot, or he’s just hiding from us.”

“He may have heard you but the echo disorientated your location.” Sean assessed Jeff. “Why would he hide from you?”

“None of your business.” Jeff rubbed his face. “Look, we had a fight. He’s nine, he wants things he can’t have.”

Sean was generally a good judge of character, and he’d been on edge since meeting Jeff and Ann. But he didn’t know why they bothered him. Now that Ann was gone, Jeff seemed to have relaxed a little. He was still borderline belligerent, but not as nervous.

His attitude could be any number of things. He could be abusive, or guilty of something that had nothing to do with his missing son.

“Do you have a picture of Micah?” Ann had said she’d left her purse in their car, but when she’d said that, Sean thought Jeff had been reaching into his back pocket. Sean’s dad
always kept pictures of the kids in his wallet—though often they were outdated. And while he might buy that a woman would leave her photos in her purse, no man left home without his wallet.

Jeff hesitated, then reached back and pulled a worn leather wallet out of his pocket. “It’s a couple years old. He was in first grade.”

Sean took the picture. It was a standard school photo with a blue background. Micah had a wide grin and was missing one of his front teeth in the picture. He was fair-skinned with dark hair and blue eyes and a light smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

“Cute kid,” Sean said. The backside of the photo had Micah’s name and the year the photo was taken, consistent with what they’d already said. Sean was marginally relieved—but his fear for the child grew. Six hours was a long time for a nine-year-old to be missing in the woods.

Jeff put the picture back in his wallet. “Yeah. Well.” He cleared his throat. “How long do you think it’ll take for Ann and your girlfriend to get back?”

“It’s at least ninety minutes each way. Likely the rangers will want them to wait at the car until the search and rescue team is mobilized, so they know where they’re going.” Sean glanced at his watch. It was almost one o’clock; the women had been gone for less than thirty minutes. “I wouldn’t expect anyone back until four at the earliest. Probably closer to five.”

“But they’ll be back before dark, right?” Jeff asked.

“I hope so.” This was getting them nowhere. “Did you hear anything this morning? When Micah left?”

Jeff shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Where was he sleeping?” Sean looked around the camp. There wasn’t much here. Two
sleeping bags, the lean-to, two backpacks—

Two sleeping bags?

“Did Micah take his sleeping bag?”

Jeff frowned and turned, staring at the lean-to. He didn’t say anything for a minute. “I didn’t notice,” he finally said.

This was sounding more and more like the kid had intentionally run away. If he had his sleeping bag and supplies, he could camp out in the woods for several days, maybe a week or more. Certainly until the weather turned. But why? When Sean was nine he’d shown early signs of being the rebel he’d turned into after his parents were killed. He’d never run away but there were times when he’d snuck out of the house just because he could get away with it. He’d hide in the tree house his oldest brother, Kane, had built with their dad the year before Kane had joined the Marines. It was outside of the house, but still safe. Risky, but not dangerous. There had been an American flag and a Marine Corps flag hanging on two of the walls, and broken electronics that Sean would either get working again or refashion into something completely different. He always felt an odd sense of peace in the tree house, especially when Kane was deployed and he only saw him a couple times a year.

He always wondered if his parents knew he was in the tree house and that’s why they never panicked. Or if they just didn’t care.

What about Micah? Was he trying to figure out if his parents really cared about him? Or was he running from them? Did he want to scare them, or was he scared of them?

“This changes things,” Sean said. “Micah has the capacity to survive the night on his own. Do you know if he took food or other supplies?”

“I didn’t notice,” Jeff repeated.

Sean had the feeling again that he was missing an important fact. The honesty and connection he’d felt with Jeff a few minutes ago vanished.

“How far did you search?”

“I walked a good hour up the creek bed, then came back through the eastern ridgeline. I’d just returned when you and your girlfriend showed up.”

“About the fight—”

“That’s not important. He’s a kid, for chrissakes. I’m the adult; he needs to listen and do what he’s told.”

Sean didn’t comment on Jeff’s reaction. Instead he said, “I’m going to circle around your camp and try to figure out which way he went.”

“I told you—we searched all around here.”

“I know, but I’m sure you and your wife were emotional and maybe you missed something.”

“Whatever,” Jeff grumbled. “I’m going to walk around the lake again. I gotta do something.”

Sean walked along the edge of Jeff’s camp slowly. Even though it was still daylight, he shined his flashlight on the ground, looking for signs of small footprints. Unfortunately, there were many footprints and none were distinct.

He walked deeper into the woods, sweeping back and forth, looking for any sign of Micah. A lost jacket. Food wrappers. Based on the disturbed earth, Ann and Jeff had retraced the same ground several times. With the poor sunlight that barely filtered through the trees and the falling leaves, a clear trail was impossible to find. Sean supposed a more experienced tracker might be able to identify whose tracks were whose.

About half a mile from the campsite, as Sean was considering turning around since he’d been gone nearly an hour, he saw something that seemed odd.

Tire tracks.

But these tracks were too narrow to be from a car or truck, not to mention that they weren’t on a road. Sean had driven quads often enough to know that a small, four-wheel all-terrain vehicle had been here. The gouges in the earth were still fresh. On further inspection, it appeared that there had been two ATVs and the tracks couldn’t have been here longer than a week, and were probably made more recently. He saw no sign of the quads now. He hadn’t heard any earlier, either.

Adrenaline fueled his urge to follow the tracks. But they could go for miles, and he needed to be back at the campsite by the time Lucy returned. Both Jeff and Ann had guns, Sean didn’t, and they had possible access to ATVs that neither had mentioned, plus a missing kid. Was Micah even theirs? Would Jeff carry a photo of him if he wasn’t?

Too many unanswered questions made Sean nervous. He didn’t want to mention the tracks to Jeff, but at the same time he feared keeping quiet could jeopardize Micah’s safety.

He followed the grooves for a hundred yards and determined that the tracks had come from the southeast, stopped where he’d first seen them, and returned the same way.

Why would they stop in the middle of the woods—not the lake, not a clearing—only to turn around and go back?

He’d given Lucy his tablet with the map but he drew out on a piece of paper the location of the tracks and a general indication of the terrain. He’d be able to find this place again. If he remembered correctly from the maps of this area he’d downloaded, there wasn’t much to the east except hills, trees, and a spattering of secluded homes miles away. It was certainly possible that
someone had driven into the mountains to ride ATVs, but coming from the east or southeast added far more time than if they’d used the main highway. The riders might live in the vicinity—the closest residence was about four miles away, definitely within quad range.

Sean wished he had his map because he hadn’t studied this part of the forest, focusing primarily on the route he and Lucy had hiked.

He pulled out his phone and hoped that Lucy was still in range to use the radio. He doubted it, but it was worth a try. Or, she may not have turned her cell phone on to save the battery.

There was no response.

“Luce, be careful,” he whispered, then started back toward camp.

The first thirty minutes of their trek to the car was awkwardly quiet, so Lucy broke the silence and said to Ann, “I’ve been on search and rescue teams, and kids get scared. When they run away, at first they’re mad and hurt and too scared to return because they think you’ll be angry with them. It sometimes takes a while for them to realize that you’re not going to be mad, that you’ll be relieved when they return.”

He could truly be lost, or injured, but Lucy didn’t want to make Ann any more scared than she already was. Lucy thought if they kept up the pace she’d set, they’d beat the ninety minutes Sean predicted. The faster they got people out here searching, the better.

Ann frowned. “Are you sure that map is right?”

Lucy showed her Sean’s tablet. “Sean downloaded the entire region before he left. He loves his gadgets. See here? We might be able to get cell reception on the knoll.”

“So you have a phone?”

She nodded. “Like I said, Sean’s into technology. Even though he knew we didn’t have reception out here, he insisted we pack them. I have mine off right now, but I’ll turn it on when we get to the knoll and see if we catch a signal. I can also communicate using the radio on the cell phone if we need it, but range is the problem there.”

Though they were walking through trees that provided a natural canopy, the hike was making Lucy warm. She stopped to take off her sweatshirt and tie it around the strap of her backpack. She drank half a water bottle, then stuffed it back into her pack.

Ann said, “We should cut through here.” She gestured to a slope that appeared to be a more direct route to the road, but it was also much steeper.

“We should stick to Sean’s map.”

“Is he some sort of expert?”

Her voice was snide but Lucy let it pass. “About some things he is. We know this route will get us to our car in ninety minutes; if we detour, it may take longer. Or there could be other hazards.”

Ann opened her mouth to argue, then closed it, obviously frustrated. Lucy had to convince Ann to trust her.

“Ann, I know you’re worried, and I want to help. I work for the FBI; I’m not an agent yet, but I have plenty of experience in search and rescue from when I interned with the Arlington County Sheriff’s Department, and I know how to work with the authorities. We will find your son. We just need to bring in the right people for the job, okay?”

Ann was staring at her as if she’d just told her she was from Mars.

Lucy tried to ease the situation. “I just want you to feel comfortable with Sean and me helping in the search for Micah. We’ll find him. We’re not going to leave until we do.”

Ann nodded and turned away, walking in the direction Lucy had been going. Lucy followed. A few minutes later, Ann began to veer too far to the west. “Ann, this way,” Lucy said, motioning to what appeared to be an overgrown path. Lucy wasn’t surprised Sean had selected this route. It had obviously been used by hikers in the past.

The path led to a clearing ringed by maple trees. Not just a clearing but an old graveyard. Headstones had crumbled over time. This was an unusual place for a cemetery, but it could have been a family plot many years ago. She walked to one of the headstones that looked mostly intact.

WILLIAM OLDENBURG, III

Husband of ABIGAIL CUTTER OLDENBURG

1869–1914

The grave next to William’s appeared to be his father, though part of the name was cut off. The dates had nearly eroded away, but it looked like William the second lived from 1833 until 1889.

Lucy didn’t particularly like cemeteries but she appreciated history. She wondered about the land they were on, who the family was, how long they’d lived here. Maybe tomorrow, before they went home—provided that they found Micah—she and Sean could explore the area around the cemetery. Maybe there was an old homestead or the remnants of a house.

Ann hadn’t stepped from the edge of the clearing. “We shouldn’t be here.”

Graveyards often made people nervous and superstitious. Lucy said, “Go ahead and walk around the edge of the clearing. According to Sean’s map, the path we’re on continues over there.” She gestured toward the opposite side.

Lucy glanced around and found the remnants of nine headstones. As she crossed the
clearing, she saw recently disturbed dirt.

She stared at the mound. It had been covered with fresh leaves and they were piled higher than the leaves surrounding it. The dirt was darker, and had definitely been turned.