It was so quiet up here in the woods that Nic could hear the sound of a nearby creek babbling over stones. Scarves of mist wrapped around the trees. The scene was still lit up by the generator-powered lighting system. If anything, the light just made the blackness around them darker. Over-head, the stars were sparkling pinpoints. Each time Nic took a breath, it felt like the cold air was pulling her lungs inside out. She was marching in place just outside the perimeter, stamping her feet in a futile effort to get some feeling back in her toes.
Leif was taking exit photos to show what the scene looked like after it had been processed. Other than Leif, the ERT had left. The team would be back tomorrow to do a final line search in the daylight. On hands and knees, each agent an arm’s length from the next, they would make sure they hadn’t missed anything.
The two Portland cops who had been assigned to keep out any trespassers were talking quietly at the far corner of the perimeter. Nic was waiting for Leif.
She was here because Leif had asked her to stay behind. He had offered no explanation, and she had asked for none. To her surprise—and she thought to Leif ’s as well—she had agreed.
So what would they talk about during their long hike back? And what would happen once they got there? Nic’s senses were still heightened, her body still keyed up, first from viewing the body, then from speaking to the Converses. Saying yes to Leif was the scariest thing she had done in years—and she didn’t even know what she was saying yes to.
Leif snapped one last picture and then began to walk slowly toward her, stowing his camera gear. As he did, Nic thought she heard a noise on her left. She whipped her head around. It was just the faintest of sounds, a crackle, a pause, another crackle. Like someone moving slowly and cautiously toward them.
Leif shot her a puzzled look. His mouth opened as he started to ask a question, but she put her finger to her lips.
Putting her left palm out flat, Nic walked the fingers of her right hand on it. Then she pointed in the direction of the noise. She took her gun from its holster and turned on her flashlight, although she shone it at her feet, not in the direction of the noise.
Leif froze, and they both listened for a long time, perfectly silent, barely breathing. Nic was about to dismiss the idea that she had heard something, but then the sound came again. And this time she was sure of what it was: slow, stealthy footsteps.
Leif and Nic ran toward the sound. Brambles snagged their clothes and branches scratched their faces. To their right, Nic heard the two cops shout as they realized that something was going on. Then she caught a glimpse of a white-haired figure.
Leif, with his longer legs, was already well ahead of her. “Halt, FBI!” he yelled.
Instead of stopping, the man turned and tackled Leif at the knees, knocking him over.
Intent on getting to Leif as fast as possible, Nic caught her toe on a tree root and went sprawling. She managed to hold on to her gun, but the flashlight flew from her hand and went out. She heard the explosive sounds of a scuffle. Shouts, a curse word, branches snapping.
No time to find her flashlight, not when Leif needed her. Nic got to her feet and ran blindly. About fifty yards behind her, she could hear the two cops. Their flashlights sliced through the dark, lighting up two men rolling around on the ground: Leif and a man with thick white hair, who looked like a transient.
“Hands up in the air or I’ll shoot!” Nic was ready to, adrenaline ramping through her body. Time had slowed down. She caught a glimpse of Leif ’s gun and kicked it away.
The two cops ran up and dragged the man off Leif. The man bucked, struggled, shouted incoherently. Something about the stars shining.
“Cuff him,” one of the cops yelled.
The cops were half dragging, half carrying him away when Nic yelled, “Wait!” She ran in front of them and turned to face the man. His eyes were rolling, as wild as a bucking horse’s. “What are you trying to say?”
“Starshine!” he said urgently. “Starshine!”
The cops sighed, exasperated by his nonsense, but Nic held his gaze.
And then he said, “My daughter! I can’t leave her!”
“Your daughter,” Nic echoed. “Where is she?”
“In the cabin.”
Cabin? What cabin? He was probably delusional. Starshine would turn out to be a naked plastic baby doll, the cabin a cardboard box.
He pointed. Leif swung his flashlight back. Nic looked and didn’t see anything. Just as she was about to turn back, something took shape right in front of her.
Hidden beneath tall fir trees was a wood-framed shelter. Covered by a green tarp, it blended in with the ferns and undergrowth around it.
“Your daughter’s in there?”
He nodded, still panting.
“How old is she?”
“Ten.”
Just a year older than Makayla.
“I’m Tim Chambers. My daughter’s name is Starshine.” His breath came in gasps. With his white hair and lined face, he looked too old to have a ten-year-old daughter. “Let me loose and I’ll go get her.”
Leif shook his head. “Sorry, no can do. Nicole can go get her.”
“Starshine,” Nic called out as she picked her way to the shelter. “Starshine, please come out. I promise we won’t hurt you.”