Page 14 of High Frequency

“I guess it’s a start.”

Five

Sloane

“Eckhart, line two!”

Betty’s voice carries clear down the hallway from her office, which is right behind the front desk. It’s one of three private offices, the other two house dispatch and, of course, Sheriff Junior Ewing. The rest of us are in an open space at the far end of the hallway, where I have a cubicle with a desk, a chair, a computer, and the ancient telephone which currently has a light blinking.

I pick up the handset and press the lit button.

“Lincoln Sheriff’s Office, this is Detective Eckhart.”

“Detective, this is Donna. Donna Littleton, Chelsea’s mom.”

“Yes, of course. What can I do for you, Mrs. Littleton?”

I just checked in on Chelsea yesterday, unfortunately the girl still wasn’t talking. Mrs. Littleton had given permission for the girl’s doctor to speak with me, but she wasn’t able to provide much useful information either, other than to confirm some type of sexual interference had taken place. Blood analysis did not show anything remarkable, but as the doctor pointed out, there are plenty of drugs, which process out of the body quickly, that could’ve been used to control her.

“It’s Chelsea…she was restless last night. Talking in her sleep. A nightmare, I guess.”

I immediately sit up straight and pull a pad of paper toward me, ready to make notes.

“It wasn’t very coherent though. From what I was able to piece together, she was running from someone or something. She mentioned they were big, and I’m positive she said she was being pushed. Then she started screaming she was falling and something about dead eyes staring up at her.” The poor woman stifles a sob. “I feel so damn helpless.”

I can only imagine, knowing something horrific has happened to your child outside of your control must be devastating.

“Mrs. Littleton, why don’t I drop by, try talking to her again? Perhaps the dream triggered her memories of her ordeal.”

“It’s Donna, and I already tried that, but the only thing she mentioned again was the dead eyes staring up.”

It’s not much to go on, but it seems to imply last night’s episode may not have been merely a dream, but rather an actual recollection of events. It certainly is more than I had before and would suggest she did not end up going over the edge of the cliff under her own steam.

Maybe I should head back up Kenelty Mountain, have a good look around the area where the girl was found.

“Donna, your call was helpful. It gives me something to work with. Please don’t hesitate to get in touch if there is anything else. Is there any word on when Chelsea may be able to come home with you?”

Home for them would mean Columbia Falls, which is a bit out of the way, but we’ll make it work. It may be good for the girl’s recovery to be in familiar surroundings.

“They tell me it could be as soon as tomorrow.”

“That’s good. I’ll try to pop by tonight or tomorrow morning to touch base with you,” I promise.

After ending the call, I go in search of Junior, finding his office empty. Next, I poke my head around the door of Betty’s office.

“Is Sheriff Ewing around?”

Betty turns around and scrutinizes me over the rim of the reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose. The five-foot-nothing, silver-haired woman is no less intimidating now than she was all those years ago when I was a fresh new deputy.

She’s a permanent fixture here at the sheriff’s office. I think she’s worked here most of her adult life and knows everything there is to know. Including the whereabouts of our sheriff.

“Gettin’ a haircut. What do you need him for?”

I tell her I want to see if I can retrace the girl’s steps up on that mountain.

“So? You need to do it, do it.”

“Fair enough, but do we have an ATV or something I can use to get up there?”

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