Triple Trouble: A Cassidy Callahan Novel. Kelly Rysten

t-shirt. If he was out there, I wanted him to see me. I pulled on thick socks and hiking boots. The boots felt stiff on my feet after the moccasins but I’d eventually get used to them. They were well-worn older boots that conformed to my feet.

      I was arranging things on my dining room table when Michaels rang my doorbell. Letting him in, I noticed a slight tinge of light on the horizon.

      “Looks like you’re ready,” he said.

      “Yup. I’ve checked and double checked.”

      He hefted the pack estimating its weight, looking at me dubiously.

      I’d shopped and tried on a dozen packs before I found one that was just right. It suited me and had been my hiking companion for many years. I took the pack from him.

      “Are you sure about this? Twenty miles lugging this thing around for a week? I’ve seen part of this trail on the first search, and that was the easy part.”

      “Look, you can start worrying about me after a week. If I were just hiking straight through, I could do it in four days. But I told you I need to take it slow. I need to read the sign and sometimes that means spending a long time figuring out what those signs mean. It’s all very subtle, and subtle clues take some detective work. And, if luck is with us, I won’t find him until the end of the trail because that will mean less time spent in whatever situation kept him from finishing the hike. He’ll have gear, food and water up until very close to the end, and hopefully he will still have it when I find him. The more time he spends with his gear, the more likely he’ll still be alive. I have ten days worth of dinners and twelve days worth of breakfasts. I have jerky, trail mix, a couple of energy bars, and water. I can live off the land for a few days if I need to. Been there, done that. I’d pack more food, but more food means more weight. The less weight, the faster I can go.”

      He eyed the gun on the table. “You licensed for this?”

      “Of course.”

      “Do you expect to use it?”

      “No, it’s only for self defense. I am going to be hiking through bear and cougar country. I won’t use the gun unless I have to, but I like to be prepared. Would you rather I left it behind?”

      “No, you wouldn’t take it if you weren’t comfortable using it. It’s just that a 9mm won’t do much to a bear.”

      “By the time I get scared enough to shoot a bear, it will be pretty close.”

      “You sure aren’t making me feel any better about this.”

      “What would make you feel better?”

      I could hear the gears grinding in his head and see the struggle on his face. It was scarier than facing Silva. He was going to cancel the search.

      “Let’s go,” I said, first strapping on the gun then shouldering the pack. We loaded it into the back of his dark blue Explorer. I pulled a small cardboard box from the Jeep and brought it along, too. We climbed in and hit the road. I asked him to stop at a coffee shop near my house. The manager and checker greeted me by name. I ordered a white chocolate caramel macchiato and a big piece of New York cheesecake. Michaels ordered black coffee and a zucchini/walnut muffin. We ate on the road. I poked the cheesecake out if its little envelope and ate it like a candy bar.

      “Gotta get my cheesecake fix in. I’m going to be deprived for a week.” Michaels pulled off pieces of his muffin and ate them as he drove. “You’re eating your muffin upside down,” I said. This brought a smile to his face.

      “How do you eat a muffin upside down?” he asked.

      “The flavor all rises to the top, so you take off the wrapper and eat the bottom first. That saves the best part for last.”

      “I’ll have to remember that for next time.”

      The drive to Piney Point was quiet and I could sense the tension building as we got closer. Michaels’ driving became tighter, and his grip on the wheel was almost white knuckled. He stared ahead, arguing with himself. This couldn’t go on.

      Desert scrub and Joshua trees gave way to pine trees and junipers. We stopped at the ranger station on the way and I was glad for the break. Maybe some conversation with the rangers would calm him down.

      I hopped out of the Explorer and climbed the steps up to the ranger station two at a time. I waited at the door for Michaels to catch up, then stepped inside.

      “Hey, Cassidy! Are you stopping in for a wilderness pass again? Which direction are you off to this time?”

      I smiled. This was good news. It was Paul, and he was always issuing me wilderness passes. If anybody could make Michaels feel better about this hike, he could. Paul was short and potbellied. His hair was thinning on top and sprung out at the sides of his head. Hat hair. He stretched the buttons on his ranger uniform, and he was warm and friendly, always cheerful.

      “She’s going after Kelly Green,” Michaels said matter of factly. “We’re stopping in to get fitted with radios and GPS.”

      Paul looked at me just like Michaels did. Oh, no.

      “Aw, no, Paul, not you too! You know I’ve been all over these mountains. I found Thomas Parker when he wandered away from his Boy Scout troop. I brought you a pinecone from the top of Waterman Mountain just to prove that I’d been there. Look, that’s it on your windowsill. I recognize it. It’s split on top and lopsided but it is from the top of Waterman. You’ll dare me to climb a mountain but you don’t want me to hike from Piney Point to Elk Meadows?”

      “It’s not the hike Cass. I don’t want you to be the one to find Green. Something just doesn’t smell right about this whole disappearance.”

      I stared down Paul. “Why didn’t you call me in while the trail was still fresh?”

      Michaels and Paul looked at each other. Michaels took a deep breath and blew it out with a huff. “I think she’s dead set. We’ll just have to fix her up the best we can.”

      Paul nodded. He called another ranger in from the back room to hold the fort and we followed him into the room housing the radio station. Paul took out an orange two-way radio, popped the back off and dumped the batteries in the trash. He then went to the refrigerator, pulled out new batteries and inserted them into the radio.

      “I’m not taking any chances. You’re going to stay in touch, right?”

      “Right.”

      “Cell phone charged?”

      “Yup.”

      “You know how these things work. I’ll be here days, Larry will be here nights. I’ll inform him that you’re out there and he’ll keep an ear out for you. Test it just to make sure it works and test it just before you hit the trail. Check in every day, rain or shine, preferably on my watch. If you haven’t called in and Larry doesn’t hear from you by midnight, he’s gonna be calling me and you don’t want that to happen. We’ll keep a log of your calls, what time they come in and where you are.”

      I pushed the button on the radio. “Test, test,” I said quietly. I hated the sound of my own voice across a radio. It never seemed right to me.

      “Here’s the GPS system. This shows your location. The coordinates appear here and here. Keep it on you at all times. We don’t care where your pack is. We want to know where you are.”

      “Is this supposed to tell me where I am or you where I am?”

      “Both. If something happens we’ll know where to look.”

      “Then why the radio?”

      “A dot on the screen is not an update. We want to know you’re okay out there. Some of us wimpy guys just gotta hear your voice. And if you find Green, we’ll need instructions.”

      I clipped the radio and GPS system to my belt.

      When we pulled into Piney Point