Car Trouble: A Cassidy Callahan Novel. Kelly Rysten

heel,” I commanded. He took his place to my left and followed me down the road. The command wasn’t really necessary. I was sure that he would stay with me but it was good for him to hear anyway. He understood that this was work, not play, and would listen better now that he was in work mode.

      I set my feet to a steady pace and headed downhill. “Just pretend this is the Marines,” I told myself. “Just keep the pace and eventually the hike will end.”

      It would have been a pleasant day for hiking except for the heat. It was slightly cloudy but this was Southern California in the summer and it was hot. I walked and kept my focus on the woods around me, hoping to catch sight of the light green paint of a ranger truck or for any other signs of movement. Movement meant animals and I always enjoyed taking a break from these hikes to stalk an animal through the woods.

      This was not a new situation for me. My name is Cassidy “Trouble” Callahan; tracker, cowgirl and general all around trouble magnet. I was only called Trouble by my family, which also included the employees of my father’s quarter horse ranch. However, the tendency to get into trouble didn’t always stay at the ranch. It followed me around. Sometimes it snuck up subtly and sometimes it came barreling towards me. Sometimes it meant a hike to civilization and sometimes it meant fighting for my life. So this little episode was actually quite a relief compared to what could have happened. This little bit of trouble was more of an inconvenience. A five-mile hike to the road and a ten-mile hike to a telephone were annoying, but not something to get upset over. I could probably flag down a ranger once I reached pavement.

      I soon decided the day was too hot. The animals were sitting in the shade waiting for the cooler part of the day, just as I should be doing. My problem however was an appointment I needed to keep and I didn’t want to be late. I wasn’t sure what the appointment involved but it was with Rusty Michaels and somebody he wanted me to meet. Rusty was a detective I had met during another trouble attack in which I’d been carjacked. After Rusty had helped me to escape and arrested the carjacker we had kept in touch. However, recently it had escalated into more than just keeping in touch. If I was late Rusty would worry. He knew I was generally early to these things but he also knew how often I was delayed by trouble. If I was late, he’d start looking for me. He’d call the house. He’d call my cell phone. He’d call Paul, the ranger at the station I visited frequently. I got out my cell phone and looked at the screen. No reception here. The mountains blocked it. I tried calling Rusty just in case it worked. I got a ring and he answered but I couldn’t hear anything and I doubt he could either. I continued speaking to him in the event he was able to hear me.

      “Rusty, I don’t have any reception here. I wanted you to know that I’m having car trouble and might be late. If I don’t show up, don’t worry about me. I’m walking to a phone and I’ll call back later.” I made it sound routine, which unfortunately it was. Shadow followed along, tongue hanging, drool dripping. I shared my water with him but we didn’t have a bowl so he lapped it from my cupped hand. Shadow was good for the long haul. He’d been backpacking with me a number of times, this hiking was just a little more open than usual.

      Five miles later we hit pavement, the Angeles Forest Highway. I clipped on Shadow’s leash. Now it was just ten more miles to a telephone. I looked at my cell phone again. It was already five o’clock and maybe Rusty would be off work soon. I headed down the highway but this was tougher going than the long dirt road. There was very little shoulder and cars whipped around us making their commute from L.A. to Joshua Hills by way of the long, scenic route. This scenic route could be faster or slower, depending on the freeway’s conditions. A mile later another bar appeared on my phone so I tried again. Sitting on the side of the road, I punched a few buttons and there he was.

      “Hey,” I said, “It’s me. Did you get my other call?”

      “Yeah, where are you? And where were you?”

      “I was up in the mountains and I’m still up in the mountains but now I can talk. Did you really need me to meet you at your office? I don’t think I’ll make it back to town by six.” A particularly loud car whipped past. “I need to find a place where I can meet a tow truck or a taxi and I don’t think that’s going to happen for about ten miles.”

      “Why don’t I just come get you? You sound like you can use a ride.”

      “Yeah, a ride would be nice. I already got my exercise for the day. I’ll find a pullout and wait if you’re sure it’s not an inconvenience.”

      “I’ll call Lou and reschedule and then I’ll head out. Can you give me directions?”

      “Take the 14 to Angeles Forest Highway and follow Angeles Forest Highway until you see me. There’s a lot of traffic up here so I’ll try to walk on your side of the road and find a pullout. If you get to the turn off for Mount Pacifico you’ve gone too far. That’s the road I just left.”

      “Okay, gotcha.”

      We disconnected and I followed the road downhill, always downhill, until I came to a large pullout overlooking the forest. I wasn’t going to sit and wait, though. Pullouts were great places to read tracks. There were many different kinds of people who pulled over and it was like reading the newspaper to walk around and see who had been there. It was also good practice for honing my tracking skills.

      I found a spot where a car had been parked, probably a van, because about six people got out. I found the footprints of a woman with small feet. She was heavy and the sides of her shoes overlapped the thin soles. From the driver’s side a man had stepped out, also heavy. He shuffled his feet as he walked to the overlook, and then stood smoking cigarettes as the kids ran around. There were four children ranging in age from six to teens. The teenagers didn’t move around much. It looked as if they only left the van to escape the heat. The younger ones ran out to the lookout and jumped around on the railing that protected them from the drop off beyond.

      I went to another parking space and found the tracks of a young couple who had walked along the railing, stopping several times. The guy would stand really close to the girl and I pictured him with an arm wrapped around her, pointing to different things in the scene below. I looked out on the expanse and saw a hawk circling. Maybe he’d been pointing out that same hawk. Maybe he knew what kind it was. Maybe the girl was actually interested. I hoped she was.

      I could go on doing this for hours. It just felt right to me, reading the ground. It was all I knew how to do well. I also found a parking place where a couple with a toddler had stopped. When they removed their son from his car seat and set him down he immediately ran towards the road and the dad chased after him. It was a big pullout but he didn’t get far. The dad carried his son but the boy didn’t want to be held. The dad’s footprints kept shifting this way and that trying to still the squirming child. He had finally given up and set the boy down again, holding his hand to keep him close.

      I walked around reading all the news in the sand until I eventually noticed Rusty’s dark blue Explorer parked at one end of the pullout. He was smiling, amused that he’d snuck up on me and knowing the reason why I’d been so preoccupied. He enjoyed watching me work because only then was I so at ease. I think he could feel the rightness of it the way I did. Giving me a patch of sand was like giving a mathematician a problem or an athlete a physical challenge. I jumped in and it was like pulling teeth to get me to stop. I walked towards the Explorer and he pulled forward to save me a few steps.

      “I was wondering if I was going to have to honk the horn before you’d see me,” he said.

      “I’m sorry, I was reading and I lost track of time.”

      “I know, I just think it’s funny.” His sandy brown hair always looked slightly windblown and his blue eyes usually smiled at me. I loved those eyes, so warm and expressive. I had certainly seen my share of emotions in those eyes. Guess that’s what comes from being a trouble magnet. He had helped me through many tough things in the short time we’d known each other. As usual, he was dressed in brown slacks with a sport coat. He’d taken off his tie and seemed at ease.

      I placed Shadow in the backseat and then hopped into the front.

      With