took in everything around him and examined the flora for broken branches, crushed leaves, or anything that might indicate human intervention. He swung the machete in anger and chopped and cut, and then cut and chopped. He thought of Isla sleeping with that jerk. Then about the time they’d kissed back in high school. He thought about how stupid he’d been to let Isla go and thus find her way eventually into the arms of that asshole. It had been his own fault. All his troubles in life he’d brought on himself. He should have fought harder to keep her, but it was too late now for regrets.
As he was lost in thought, the peak of Mount Bloom arrived with a sudden clarity. Blue sky filled the void near the top. Large boulders and trees took up space wherever he looked. He practically sprinted the last hundred yards, his lungs filling with air. Sweat dripped from his crinkled brow as a strong breeze rustled some dirt atop one of the lookout boulders. It swirled and formed into an eddy. He climbed atop the boulder and stared down at the tiny kingdom below, noticing it unequally divided between the haves and the have-nots. Unequal in that the have-nots resided in the vast interior part of the land. Unequal because the monied possessed the tiniest and most desirable real estate holdings along the coast.
His body felt tired in a good way. He was exhausted from his extensive search but was relieved that he had not turned up anything ghastly. Like two dead girls.
He stared down at the town and the dense woods surrounding it. The ocean roiled, and waves smashed against the rocks along the shore. The bay, however, appeared calm and glassy. Connecting the mainland to Harper’s Point was the majestic suspension bridge, which had been built a few years ago to replace its worn and run-down predecessor. Somewhere in that vast expanse of vegetation below lay the decomposing body of the James boy, assuming that he hadn’t run away from home, which Karl had never believed was a plausible theory. He felt a stirring in his gut that told him these missing-child cases were intimately connected. Were the girls victimized by the same person who harmed Dakota James? Was one of the wealthy newcomers responsible for all this tragedy? Or was the malefactor a bitter townie hell-bent on getting revenge for the way the town had changed? Too early to know, but every hour that passed made it less likely that they’d find the girls alive.
He swung his machete through the air and headed back down an alternate trail, praying for the best. Keeping his eyes open. His ears, too. He couldn’t bear to see the grief on Isla’s face if Katie turned up dead. She’d been putting on a brave face for the past few days, but that would all fall away if his worst fears came true.
ISLA
THE REALITY OF THIS SEARCH PARTY STRUCK HER AS PROFOUND WHEN she found herself deep in the woods. She thought of Grimms’ Fairy Tales and all the negative connotations related to forests.
The crunch of decomposing leaves underfoot constantly reminded her of the grim task at hand. Every step taken brought her closer to Katie. Every time she looked through the woods and didn’t see her daughter, she was reminded that Katie’s body hadn’t been found. That she was still alive and breathing.
She wanted to call Ray but didn’t. There came a defining moment in every marriage, a moment when one spouse made a move that determined the outcome. Whether or not Ray meant to screw up, whether it was by accident or intentional, it didn’t really matter to her now. She’d never forget what he’d done—or what he hadn’t done—in her family’s greatest time of need.
She picked up a stick and poked the ground. Dead leaves gave way under the stick. If only that crunching sound would go away. It was a constant reminder that her daughter was missing. She prayed for God to deliver her daughter safely back to her. Many of these people searching were members of her church. She adored them all and felt lucky for their presence in her life. But religion seemed entirely different than her belief in God. Would God be so callous as to allow her only daughter to be snatched from her arms? If so, then why pray so hard for God to help find her? Would a loving God have created the sweetest