Triple Trouble: A Cassidy Callahan Novel. Kelly Rysten

for the fun of it at the drop of a hat. This will be interesting. I’ll need a day to prepare. Every minute we sit around here valuable information is being lost. And you can’t expect me to get through this trail in a week. I will have to walk slow and read sign. This won’t be like tracking Silva. Silva was a piece of cake. Soft desert sand is ideal for tracking. And that was minutes after he ran. This is a week we’re talking about, and it’ll be another week before I complete the trail. Green might not even be along the trail. He may have left it. There’s a lot to consider.”

      “I know. I’ve considered the hell out of it.”

      I knew I could hike the trail in a week. That was no problem. I knew I could have found him before any searchers went through and covered his tracks. Now the outlook wasn’t promising. On the other hand, this was a man used to being in the woods. He was in good physical shape and he would have gone out prepared. If anyone could make it after this time, it would be him. Still, I had plenty of questions. I hadn’t worked with the officials here. I’d found a lost boy scout and spent plenty of time in the woods, but I hadn’t tried anything of this magnitude.

      “How will I keep in touch? If I find him, I’m going to have to be able to call in my coordinates so help can get in.”

      “I can get one more team together. We can set you up with a radio. I’ll check on a GPS system for you. Cell phones work from certain points along the trail. Here, here and here. One of the perks of living close to L.A.”

      “You really think I can do this?”

      “I’m betting on it.”

      “Betting what?”

      “Just be careful. I could go with you.”

      “You’ve got bad guys to catch.”

      “There’s better things to do than catch bad guys.”

      “I’d work better alone.”

      “I knew you’d say that. I don’t think I can let you do this. Let me get some guys together. Nobody is ready to give up on Kelly. I can have a team ready by morning.”

      “I can’t work with people looking over my shoulder. At times when the reading gets tough I have to take my time. It’s like a puzzle. I can’t ask a whole team of people to just sit around while I figure something out. I would feel pushed, and this is one time when I can’t be pushed. It has to be right before I go to the next step.”

      “Then what can I do?”

      “Nothing. It needs to be done, and I’ll do it. You knew I’d do this when you picked up the phone. You knew I’d jump at it. You can fill me in a little on site. I have to have something to start with. It would be helpful to see a picture, to know Green’s height and weight. If he was wearing work boots, does he have another pair I can take a look at? Or even a pair of his every day shoes. There are wear patterns on the soles that give me lots of clues. Does he walk weird? Does he favor one foot over another? Has he had any injuries that would affect how he travels? How far do you think he got? I need to examine the exact spot where he left his vehicle. Anything like that will really help.”

      “I’ll go talk to his wife, pick up a pair or two of shoes, some pictures, and get any information I can from her.”

      “A photocopy of a picture would be helpful, too, so I can question other hikers that I meet. I’ll go pack up and buy some gear I’ll need.”

      “And I’ll pick you up at eight?”

      “The earlier the better. I can be ready at five. It’ll give me more time on the trail before the sun sets. I’m pretty much restricted to daylight hours on a search like this. Too much important information gets skipped over in the dark.”

      “Okay, I’ll shoot for five.”

      He walked me to the Jeep. Driving home I made a mental list of the things I needed to accomplish before the end of the day. First on the list was to get Shadow to a kennel. I didn’t want to pack a week’s worth of dog food on top of all the things I would need, and I didn’t want him in the way if I had to call in search and rescue.

      Dropping Shadow off at the kennel was always heart wrenching. I knew how bored he would be. At least he was used to this and I trusted the kennel to take good care of him. I was always amused at his reaction to their mushy doggie woggie talk. He was used to a firm command and they gushed all over him. I dropped him off along with two weeks worth of food and a couple of toys.

      I drove to a sporting goods store and bought ten different packages of backpacker food, some pepper spray, two hundred feet of light climbing rope, and a new topo map of the area. I stopped at Sam’s gun shop and picked up a new box of ammo. Then I stopped at the grocery store and bought a tiny notebook, a box of hot chocolate mix and a box of instant oatmeal. I didn’t really like oatmeal, but it was one of the best breakfast foods to eat on the trail. A hot breakfast on a cool morning always made a good start.

      At home I pulled out my backpack. I’d need more gear than the dayback would hold. Hell, I might even need more gear than the backpack would hold. I’d have to pack light, taking only essentials. I started by pulling out the daypack, a box of camping gear, my tent, and a down sleeping bag. I took the bulky fiberfill bag out of the Jeep and then stuffed my down bag into the tiniest stuff sack I owned. I checked the gas in my stove, and made sure I had an extra bottle. The stove came with its own pan and handle. I put a small fork in the pan too. I packed one change of clothes. It was going to be a major decision whether to change halfway through the trip or save the good clothes for when Michaels picked me up. Luckily, I was used to grunge and could live with it. I packed the heavy stuff in my pack against the small of my back and the lighter stuff against the zipper. This would make the load much easier to bear.

      I checked everything: tent, sleeping bag, stove, fuel, clothes, first aid kit, rope, food, water, water purifier system, matches, pepper spray, notebook, pencil, tiny hair brush, and a flute. The bamboo flute I had bought at a craft fair years ago. Although it only played in one key, it was light and made lonely nights deep in the woods friendlier. I could play a few tunes in that key and had made up a few others that seemed to fit the mood of the woods.

      I made sure my 9mm was loaded, jammed it into the holster and set the webbed gun belt beside my packed gear. I brought along eight bottles of water and would decide at the trailhead how much of it I should pack in. A pint a pound the world around, the saying goes, and I wanted as few pounds as possible.

      Holding the pack, I stepped on the scale which showed 151 pounds with no water. Setting the pack down I weighed only 116, which left a thirty-five pound difference. That was the best I could hope for. I could ditch the tent but if it rained I’d appreciate the shelter. I could ditch the water purifier but I didn’t want to risk getting sick on a trip of this magnitude.

      I battled over my choice in shoes. I preferred hiking in moccasins, but this trail called for hiking boots. Patches of the trail were littered with shale and other sharp rocks. I’d have to cross a few streams and climb a steep butte. Plus, if I ran into trouble my own trail had to be easy to follow, so the hiking boots won.

      I couldn’t put my finger on what I was feeling about this trip. I was excited to be on a mission again, but something didn’t feel right about it. Green was experienced in the woods. He’d hiked these trails. He knew the wildlife and understood the necessary precautions. He was physically fit. I knew a single misstep could land him off a cliff, but I couldn’t believe that’s what happened. Possibly it was something else, and I clung to the hope that he had made it past the tourist point and left the trail occasionally. If he left the trail, it would be very recognizable and I’d have clear signs to follow.

      I slept fitfully, and 4:30 came way too early. Scenarios kept flitting through my mind. They all seemed to happen a few days down the trail, but I couldn’t figure out why. Something niggled at the back of my mind, which bothered me and yet, in a way, gave me hope. Eventually it would surface, and I hoped it would surface in time.

      I showered and blow-dried my hair. No sense in putting on any make-up. It attracted bugs, looked