Footsteps crunched on gravel. Evan’s pulse spiked. The driver’s door opened with the familiar rusty squeal. He peered around the headrest. Rylee! Relief weakened his muscles.
“Hey,” he whispered.
Rylee startled. Raising her hands in a defensive posture, she turned and stared at him for a second. “Holy shit. You scared me to death.”
He cleared his throat. There was no need to whisper. No one could hear them. “Sorry.”
“Oh, my God, Evan. Are you OK? Where have you been? Everyone is looking for you.”
“I know.” He glanced around. The parking area still looked clear. “No one can find me. But I need help.”
Voices approached.
“Get down out of sight.” Rylee faced forward and lifted her phone, pretending to send a text.
Evan ducked behind the seat.
“OK. It’s cool. They’re gone.” Rylee glanced back at him, her eyebrows scrunched with worry. “You look like shit. Are you hurt? On the news, they said you could have been shot.”
“I was. In the arm. It’s bad.” Somehow, talking about his wound made it hurt more. More dry tears pressured his eyes. “I need help.”
“OK.” Rylee’s jaw tightened. “What can I do?”
“I need water and a blanket.”
“I can get those.” Rylee nodded.
“I’m pretty sure my arm is infected. Do you have any antibiotics at your house?”
“I don’t know,” Rylee said. “I don’t think so, but I’ll look.”
“Thanks.” Evan couldn’t conceal his disappointment.
Rylee turned to stare between the seats at him. “Seriously, you look bad. Do you want me to contact your mom? She’ll know what to do.”
Evan knew he wouldn’t survive much longer on his own. For a minute, he balanced his own life with placing his mother in potential danger. She’d always told Evan that he was her world.
“You’ll have to be careful.” He gave Rylee his mom’s cell phone number. “I’m sure the police are watching her. They think I killed Paul.”
“I’ll make sure no one is listening before I tell her anything,” Rylee assured him.
Evan leaned his face on the back of the seat. The vinyl was cool against his cheek. “Aren’t you even gonna ask me if I did it?”
“No.” Rylee’s lips curled in anger. “I know you wouldn’t shoot Paul. Anyone who thinks you did is an idiot.”
“Thanks.” Sadness and despair built in Evan’s chest. “I really liked Paul.” The hitch in his voice embarrassed him.
Her expression softened. “I know you did. What I don’t understand is why they think you’re guilty.”
“Because it was a cop who did it. A detective. He had a badge on his belt.”
“Shit. No wonder you don’t want to be found.”
Rylee checked the time on her phone. “I have to get home. My brother has been a real hard-ass about curfew because some asshole neighbor keeps calling CPS for no reason.” She reached for her door handle. “But my brother did set me up with an emergency road kit in my trunk. Let me see what’s in there.”
Evan closed his eyes. Just talking to her made him feel better. Someone believed him. Someone was on his side. Someone he could trust.
She got out of the car and went around to open the trunk. A minute later, she returned with a small black duffel bag in her hand. Closing the car door, she handed the bag over the seat. “There’s a few bottles of water, a space blanket, and a couple of protein bars. If that will get you through the night, I can bring you more supplies tomorrow evening. If I try and sneak out later tonight, my brother will get suspicious. I’ll have to come while he’s at work.”
“Thanks. I knew I could count on you.”
“Dude, you’d do the same for me.”
Evan nodded.
Rylee looked up. “Shit. There’s a cop here. Not a regular police car but an unmarked one. That’s weird.”
Evan lifted his chin to peer over the seat. A dark sedan had stopped at the entrance to the lot. It looked like the same car that he’d seen the night of Paul’s murder. It must be the killer’s car. Terror clenched his throat. “I have to get away.”
Rylee leaned on her steering wheel, her face scrunched in confusion. “He’s just sitting there. Why isn’t he running everyone off the beach?”
“Because he’s looking for me.” Evan’s breathing quickened. “I can’t let him find me.”
“Where are you going to be?”
“There’s a small cave in the ravine on the other side of the falls. It’s hard to see from the top. I’m going to hide there. If you go to the overlook and whistle real loud, I’ll hear you.”
“OK.” Rylee stared through the windshield. “Hold on. A man in a suit just got out of the car. I’ll tell you when he’s not looking.” She popped the plastic cover off the dome light and unscrewed the bulb. “Kids are scattering.”
Evan eased himself onto the seat, bending double to stay out of sight.
“Now,” Rylee said.
Evan slipped out of the car, duffel bag in hand. Adrenaline gave him an energy boost as he weaved his way through the parked cars. Dozens of kids were scattering on the beach. Evan went the other direction, toward the woods. He stumbled into the trees. Hiding behind the trunk of a big pine, he peered around it. The cop was busy asking questions.
He squinted at the man. Was that the man who had killed Paul? He was too far away, and it was too dark to tell. He was too afraid to get any closer, especially since it seemed that he’d gotten away without being seen.
Turning around, he lugged the bag back to the falls. At the crossing, he slung the handles of the duffel bag over his good shoulder and began placing each foot with extreme care. He tested the placement of each foot before transferring his weight. On the third boulder, water gushed over the top. He lost his footing and slipped. He threw his hands forward. His wound went white-hot with agony. He went down on one knee, pain exploding through the bone as it landed on solid rock.
He breathed through the pain. Next to the rock he knelt on, a swirling eddy made a sucking sound, and he was grateful he hadn’t slipped into it.
Evan made the rest of the crossing without incident. When he reached the safety of the cave, he crawled to the rear and curled up in a fetal position. As the blackness took over, he closed his eyes and hoped he didn’t die overnight.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Morgan faced the sheriff over his messy desk, a cup of cold coffee in her hand. “Does the finger belong to Brian Springer?”
At her side, Lance fidgeted, clearly annoyed at being called to Colgate’s office. It was late, and they’d missed bedtime with the kids. Again. Morgan was equally as irritated.
They’d already spent several hours being questioned by the Warren County sheriff, who’d insisted on a summary of their whole case. He’d threatened to lock them up on trespassing charges if they didn’t cooperate. Morgan had argued them out of a breaking and entering charge, but the trespassing was harder. Since they’d discovered body parts, it seemed wiser and more expedient to comply. Neither she nor Lance wanted to spend the evening sitting in a holding cell. Now Colgate wanted them to rehash the entire case.
She was running out of patience. She and Lance were, once again, making up for the inadequacies of his department. The sheriff’s department was understaffed, and Colgate didn’t have the mental or physical energy for an investigation of this magnitude. He looked thoroughly worn out. Unfortunately, Stella had been right about his stubbornness and his pride. His chin was up, and his posture was stiff.
He would never admit his investigation was lacking. Instead, he’d get angry that they’d found a lead in his case.
The sheriff’s chair squeaked as he shifted forward and slammed two fists onto the desk. A giant stack of pink message slips fluttered. “You’re both lucky the Warren County sheriff didn’t lock you both up for breaking and entering.”
“We didn’t break and enter,” Morgan said. “The door was unlocked.”
“Trespassing then.” The sheriff picked up a pen and pointed it at Lance. “Why the hell were you up there anyway? If you had evidence that something happened to Brian, and you didn’t share it with me . . .”
“We had no evidence,” Morgan clarified. “Just a hunch.”
“We were concerned about Deputy Springer.” Lance crossed his arms over his chest.
“The neighbors said Brian talked about going fishing.” Morgan was a terrible liar. So she stuck with the truth and omitted what she didn’t want to share. “But he normally left them a key to feed the cat and bring in the mail. He didn’t do either of those things. Yet no one has seen him.”
The sheriff huffed. “That’s thin. Lots of men like to go camping, fishing, or hunting and get off the radar. Not everyone wants to be available or have a phone attached to his ass 24/7. Brian planned his vacation months ago.”
“Which is exactly why we didn’t call you.” Morgan sipped from the cup. “We didn’t want to waste your time.”
The sheriff tapped his pen on the blotter. “You haven’t explained why you went inside the cabin.”
Technically, their transgression was in the Warren County sheriff’s jurisdiction, and he had eventually accepted their explanation. On the other hand, Brian’s disappearance was Colgate’s business.
Lance answered, his voice flat from repeating the same story multiple times. “We went to the cabin. There was no car parked outside, but we knocked on the door anyway. No one answered. The drag marks I found out back concerned me very much. When I discovered the front door was open, I decided to go in to see if Brian was in any trouble.”
While waiting for the Warren County Sheriff’s Department to respond to their call, Morgan and Lance had agreed on which details they needed to omit from their statement. Morgan might be a terrible liar, but as a trial lawyer, she had mad fact-manipulation-and-omission skills.