eyes.
Please, please, God, don’t let Tony be dead.
* * *
Long after everyone had finally gone home, the solemnity of the ceremony had stayed with them. The mist had turned into rain, and Trish was lying in her bed, listening to it hammering on their roof, and praying that wherever Tony was, he had shelter, too.
* * *
Randall was in his room on the phone with Justin.
His parents were in bed watching television. He could hear late-night TV host Stephen Colbert’s voice coming from their room.
“How do you think the prayer vigil went?” Randall asked.
“Good,” Justin said. “What did you think?”
“Yeah, it was good,” Randall said.
Justin sighed, hesitated and then asked in a quiet, shaky voice, “Where do you think Tony is?”
“I don’t know,” Randall said. “I expected the searchers to find him the first day.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Justin said. “I can’t figure this out. I just can’t figure this out.”
“Same,” Randall said.
Justin’s belly hurt, but he stayed quiet. There was nothing else to be said.
Randall kept talking, because the silence was painful.
“I heard Mr. and Mrs. Dawson telling Trish’s mom that they’d hired a private investigator to go look for him,” he said.
Justin frowned. “What can one man do that two days of air and ground searchers couldn’t?”
“I don’t know. I just heard them say he was famous for finding lost kids,” Randall said.
“Well, I hope he does find him. This needs to be over,” Justin said.
“Right. The sooner the better,” Randall said.
“Yeah,” Justin said, and disconnected.
* * *
Macie had cried herself to sleep in Baxter’s arms, but he couldn’t sleep. His thoughts were filled with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios, and every time he closed his eyes, he imagined Tony’s broken body unprotected, exposed to the elements and the wildlife. It was a parent’s worst nightmare come to life, and he felt like Charlie Dodge was their last best chance.
* * *
Back in the Chisos, Charlie had hiked almost three hours before he walked up on an old man sitting on the side of the trail. The old man’s eyes were closed, his legs crossed in a meditative position as he rocked back and forth, muttering the same chant over and over beneath his breath. His long hair was braided and hanging over his shoulders, his skin was so brown it looked like leather, and the multitude of wrinkles on his face were creased with sweat and dust.
Charlie had no intention of disturbing him, and was about to step off the path to give him space when the man suddenly opened his eyes.
“Do you hear the ghost?” he asked.
Charlie stopped. “Uh, no, sir. Do you hear ghosts?”
The old man tilted his head back and squinted.
“You’re a big one, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I guess I am,” Charlie said.
He nodded. “Are you camping over tonight?”
“Yes,” Charlie said.
The old man closed his eyes again. “Maybe you’ll hear the ghost. I heard him, but I couldn’t find him.”
Charlie started to walk on when it dawned on him what the old man was saying. He stopped and went back.
“Why did you think it was a ghost?”
“Because it woke me from my sleep, moaning, then screaming down the canyon like a banshee.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t someone crying for help?” Charlie asked.
“Nobody was talking. Just a scream. I know a banshee when I hear one. I’m praying it away.”
“Where did you hear it?” Charlie asked.
“Up there,” the old man said, pointing in the direction Charlie was heading. “Bloodcurdling. Spine-chilling, I tell you. I’ve been hiking up here for years and I’ve never heard anything like that.”
“You know there’s a teenager somewhere up there who’s gone missing, don’t you?”
The old man nodded. “I saw the searchers. They told me. I told them about the ghost, but they didn’t listen.”
“I hear you,” Charlie said. “I’ll watch out for the ghost.” Then he walked away.
He hiked all the way to the site on the trail where the boys had made camp. It was dusk and getting dark fast by the time he stowed his food in the bear box and put up his tent.
He built a fire and made coffee, but settled for jerky and protein bars instead of cooking. Once his belly was full and the coffee had warmed him up from the inside, he got out his iPad, but there was no reception, so he went for the sat phone to check in with Wyrick.
* * *
Wyrick had been working for almost three hours, going through the boys’ social media accounts, when she discovered a very interesting link