Fatal Exposure - By Gail Barrett Page 0,71

ten o’clock. The camp was an hour and a quarter from the hotel, maybe more, so Hoffman couldn’t have arrived before eleven. And since the autopsy put Erin’s death around midnight, that gave Hoffman less than an hour to do his work.

So Erin couldn’t have run very far. Hoffman must have a private place, not far from the lookout tower. But where?

An owl hooted in the night. The cold wind blew, making the pine boughs moan. Parker glanced back at Brynn, glad she was keeping up. They were quickly running out of time.

They reached a clearing a moment later, and the old fire lookout tower loomed into view. Parker came to a halt and studied the wooden structure; the full moon cast it in an eerie glow.

“I’ll climb up,” Brynn whispered from beside him.

“Not with your bad arm. You wait here, and I’ll go.”

He handed her the flashlight, then jogged across the clearing to the tower and started up. But as he scaled the steep, wooden steps—the same five flights Erin Walker had climbed that fateful night—his doubts about the case increased. Why had she climbed this tower? Had it been a result of the drugs? Meth users sometimes experienced delusions of superhuman power, causing them to risk their lives. Or had she been fleeing Hoffman in terror, so desperate to escape him that she’d decided to risk the tower—and then jumped or plunged to her death?

He reached the top of the stairs. His breathing labored, he strode across the platform and peered inside the room. Empty. And with every passing moment, their hopes of finding that girl unharmed dwindled even more.

He strode back onto the platform, then scowled at the inky woods. Moonlight dusted the treetops. Stars glittered across the sky, their beauty lost to his mounting fear. He couldn’t fail that child. He couldn’t fail Brynn. Because this was it. If he didn’t prove Hoffman’s guilt tonight, he wouldn’t get another chance. Hoffman would destroy any evidence. Terry Lewis would turn Parker over to Hoffman, leaving Brynn unprotected. And she’d pay the ultimate price.

Knowing there had to be a clue he’d missed, he shoved his hand through his hair. Erin Walker had left her cabin. She’d run to this lookout tower, crossing the river somewhere—proven by her wet shoes. But why? He still couldn’t see a child that age making a trek like that through the woods at night.

Unless she hadn’t walked all the way. Maybe Hoffman had picked her up. Then he’d driven her to a closer point, somewhere not too far from the tower. With the surveillance cameras down, no one would have seen them leave the cabin. But where had he taken the child?

Frowning, he pictured the map with the river running east to west. But there’d been another creek on that map, a tiny thread running north to south where the rafts and canoes were stored.

His heart thudding, he turned to the north and stared into the dark. And suddenly he saw a flash of light. He blinked, certain he’d imagined it, then looked again. It was gone.

His pulse began to race. He looked away, letting his eyes drift over the woods, then jerked his gaze north again. There it was. A faint light flickering behind the swaying trees, a half a mile or more due north.

His hopes leaping, he rushed down the steps and rejoined Brynn. “Come on, I saw a light. About half a mile from here. We need to run.”

He set out at a jog, crashing through the undergrowth, not worrying about making noise. They had to hurry. They’d already delayed too long. And backup was still minutes away.

He zigzagged through the trees, ducking under branches, then hurtled over logs and vines. Brynn kept pace, her breath rasping as they rushed along, despite her wounded arm.

Suddenly, the sound of rushing water increased. Parker slowed and shone his flashlight ahead. They’d reached the creek. He stopped on the bank, then studied the water rushing by. It was a dozen feet wide, probably a few feet deep.

“Up there,” Brynn said, pointing upstream. “We can go across those rocks.”

“I’ll go first, then help you across.” He jumped across the stones to the opposite shore. Brynn followed a moment later, gasping when he took hold of her injured arm. “You okay?” he asked.

“It’s just my shoulder.”

“We’ll get it looked at later.”

Her eyes met his in the moonlight, and he could guess what she was thinking, that they might not survive the night. “Don’t worry. We’re