she must have seen something else. Fifteen minutes later, packing all the while, she was still trying to talk herself into believing it was nothing, and since she didn’t catch sight of anything else, it should have been easy to believe.
But if there was one thing she trusted, it was her eyes. They were tuned the way a musician’s ears were tuned, to a level of exquisite perception. She didn’t mistake shapes.
She wrapped a rubber band around the bag holding her brushes and tucked them into her kit while she debated what to do. Craig had told her to stay here. But if something was going on in those woods, he needed to know it.
Then she heard a cry. It came from quite a distance, toward the gorge, but it sounded like someone had gotten hurt. There was no longer any question.
She jumped up, grabbed the radio and tried to call Lucy to tell her what was up. All she got was crackling static.
That was weird. She knew this model of radio and she should have been able to bounce a signal off a satellite and talk to anyone around here on the same frequency. Maybe the battery was dying? Or maybe some atmospheric thing after the storm of yesterday. She could go back to her car and drive down to the station.
But the cry haunted her. If someone was seriously hurt, time could be of the essence. How long would it take to get to the station, then send out a search party?
She keyed the radio again, and through the static was glad to hear what she thought was Lucy, although the signal was breaking up so badly she couldn’t be absolutely certain.
“Lucy, it’s Sky. It sounds to me like someone just got hurt in the woods. I heard a scream.”
A broken answer came back. The only words she could make out were “mountain lion.”
Did Lucy mean mountain lions could sound like someone in pain? Or was it a warning to watch out for them? Keying the radio again, she told Lucy which direction she was heading but got no response. She hoped like hell her message had gotten through.
In the meantime, she picked up everything that could conceivably be useful from her canteen to her palette knives. She’d just keep trying the radio, but she couldn’t ignore that scream.
Then she trotted toward the woods. She would go no farther than the gorge, she promised herself. She could find her way back from there without any trouble. Wandering around wildly with nothing to guide her wouldn’t be smart. She paused frequently to check the pocket compass she carried, making sure to keep her bearings straight and true. From time to time she picked up a few dry sticks and left a trail marker, just in case.
The path she left behind disappeared swiftly as water-filled grasses sprang right back up. When she hit the forest floor, it was a little spongy, but it, too, rebounded. Ten minutes later it would have been hard even for an experienced tracker to follow her trail.
She never dreamed that someone was following her, removing the trail markers and all other signs of her passage.
* * *
Craig stopped at headquarters to let Lucy know what was coming tomorrow. But Lucy diverted his news about the ATF almost immediately.
“Sky called. The signal was all broken up, so all I know is that she heard someone scream. I told her it could be a mountain lion, leave it alone and leave the area.”
“I hope she listened.”
“I don’t know. We lost signal again, damned if I know why. Probably a bad battery. I asked Don to go check on her, but he’s all the way to hell and gone because we lost another hiker. Most of our people are out there searching. Don said he’d head her way, though.”
Craig’s skin began to crawl with uneasiness. “Where are they looking for a hiker?”
“Up in Murfree’s Pass.”
“Great.” At the far end of the forest. “All right, I’ll check on her.”
Lucy half smirked. “I kinda thought you would.”
“Did anybody ever tell you that you think too much?”
Lucy’s laugh followed him out the door.
Dusty welcomed him gladly, and seemed more than ready to be tied again to the pickup. Making sure not to move too fast for the horse, Craig picked his way up the service road as quickly as he dared. Dusty trotted in the grasses alongside the road, beside the truck, tossing his head as if he enjoyed the clear,