Maggie heard the answering calls of other men, coming closer as they scrambled down the embankment and raced her way.
“Tim,” they shouted, their voices echoing across the frozen field, held aloft and magnified by frigid air.
Jefferson had stopped just short of the creek. Maggie hurried the last hundred yards toward a large hollow log. She heaped extravagant praise on her dog then squatted down for a look. The little boy was hunkered inside, his lips blue, his eyes wide and his gray sweatshirt bloody.
“It’s okay, Tim. You’re safe. You can come out now.”
Blinking against the glare of her flashlight, he shook his head—no—and refused to budge.
Maggie passed his red jacket to him. “You daddy wants you to have this, honey. He’s waiting for you back on the road.”
Timmy grabbed the coat and clutched it to his chest, but he still refused to move.
“Are you hurt, honey?”
That slight little shake of his head. Yes.
“Give me your hand and I’ll help you out.” She reached for the child but he scooted deeper into the log.
Suddenly Joe was beside her, squatted down with his face close to the log’s opening.
“Hey, there, buddy. Your daddy Charlie sent me to get you. If you’ll scoot up here, we’ll go find him and I’ll let you pet the dog.”
“Okay.”
And that’s how simple it was, how simple it had always been for her husband to charm people, young and old alike. He scooped the little boy up then turned to smile at Maggie.
It was so like the look he used to give her after they’d found a missing person during their SAR days together that, for a moment, Maggie felt the years melt away. In the space of seconds, she found her heart warming toward her husband while an icy wind lifted her hair and sent a chill down her collar.
“Come on, Maggie, let’s get Timmy back to his mama and daddy.” Joe ruffled the little boy’s hair. “Your Aunt Patricia will be up there waiting for you, too, buddy.”
For the first time since his rescue, the little boy smiled.
When they got back to the accident scene, Timmy went straight to his Aunt Patricia while Joe consulted Ken about the quickest way to get them to Glen’s Crossing.
“It’s going to be another hour or so before we can clear a path for you through here.” Ken waved his hand toward the wreckage and all the emergency vehicles. “Your best bet is to go back about five miles and cut through the forest on Everson Road. It’ll be slower driving but still, it will beat waiting here.”
Ken wished them luck and they headed back to the truck. Jefferson bedded down as soon he loaded into the backseat. Maggie stripped off her gloves and held her hands in front of the heat vents.
“What will happen to that poor little boy, Joe?”
“Several people in the search party know the couple. They said both parents are repeat offenders. Child protective services will step in this time, and he’ll probably be put in the custody of his Aunt Patricia.”
“She seemed like a nice sort.”
“There are still good people in this world.”
“Do you think Kate found somebody like that?”
“I don’t know, Maggie.”
“The Glen’s Crossing area is where I found those girls in the snow.”
“I know. Don’t think about it.”
“It’s sparsely populated. And remote.” Joe didn’t answer, and she couldn’t bear to look at him and see her own anxiety mirrored in his face. “Could she have walked to a shelter somewhere?”
“Anything’s possible.”
“I don’t want platitudes, Joe. You know that area better than I do. Is there someplace father away from where her car was found that most people wouldn’t even attempt to go, someplace she could have remembered from hiking with you?”
“A couple of remote houses, but we never hiked that area together. She rode with me to Glen’s Crossing on a business trip, but she was only eight.”
“She’s smart, Joe. Maybe she went to one of those houses and just can’t call us for whatever reason.”
“Without her coat?”
Maggie was grasping at straws. Desperate. Frightened. No, terrified. She didn’t even ask how remote the houses were. She was scared of the answer.
“Hurry, Joe.”’
Chapter Six
6:55 a.m.
Kate’s spirits lifted as the pale slivers of light announced the approach of dawn. Running would be much easier now that she could see the trail.
A sudden gust of wind lifted snow off the forest floor. The powdery curtain obscured visibility and reminded her that a storm was coming. She stopped to rest and to get her bearings.
Where was the store? Kate had traveled as fast as she dared in her running snowshoes, trying to pace herself without getting overheated. At the speed she’d been going, she should have found the trading post long before now.
Had she passed the store in the dark? Betty had said it was right on the trail. Even under current conditions, Kate would have seen a clearing big enough for a store and a parking lot. She’d have seen the shape of a large building.
Obviously Kate had misunderstood. Or maybe Betty’s directions were not accurate. She was probably under so much stress from living with her unhinged son she couldn’t think straight.
“Poor Betty. When I get out of this mess, I’ll see that you get some help, too.”
Kate took a small sip of water. It wasn’t nearly enough to quench her thirst, but she didn’t know how long she’d have to make her small supply last. The same with her food. She broke a piece of beef jerky in half then stowed the rest in her backpack and thought about the problem. She knew what lay behind. A monster who had already murdered two girls.
And though she didn’t know exactly what lay ahead, she knew there was an occasional cabin in the wilderness, mostly near one of the many lakes. And if she found the Superior Hiking Trail there would be outpost shelters.
As the dawn crept in, wind howled around her picking up speed, sending eddies of ground snow swirling round her.
“I’m tough. I’m strong. How hard can it be to find a trading post on the trail?”
Kate left another hanging branch to mark her trail then set off once more. The path was more overgrown and far more treacherous than the groomed trails Kate was accustomed to in cross country ski competition. Though she’d never been with her dad along the entire length of the Superior Hiking Trail, this was obviously not part of it. This trail had no markers. And the way some of the trees were scarred, it was obviously used by people on horses and snowmobiles, both forbidden on the Superior Hiking Trail.
Suddenly Kate came to a halt. The trail split in two directions. Had Betty mentioned that?
Doubt crept in while icy winds clawed at her. She wanted her mom and dad. She wanted her home and her fireplace. She wanted the creamed corn her mom had promised to make just for her and the comfort of Jefferson curled beside her. A tear escaped and froze on her eyelash.
Adapt. Coach’s voice was as clear as if he were standing beside her. A mentally tough runner adapts to every situation.
The trail had become rockier than when Kate left Betty’s house. She gathered stones and quickly made a cairn to mark the left fork in the trail. The pile of rocks blended in with the wilderness. Hopefully a madman bent on murder would never notice.