Page 24 of Twin Jeopardy

Mitch grinned. “Then you’ll see me around. At least, I hope you will.”

“Mitch is so gone on his new client,” Tammy said.

“Elisabeth is a special person,” Mitch said. He checked his watch. “Gotta run. Nice to meet you, Vince.”

Mitch loped away. They were at their cars now; Tammy turned to Vince. “Let me know if anything else happens,” she said. “Because I’m your friend. Not because I’m a reporter.”

He took a step back, hands in his pockets. “Thanks. Um, maybe we could have dinner later.”

She fought back a grin. “I’d like that.”

“Just...as friends,” he added.

“Sure.” It wasn’t all she wanted, but it would do. For now.

ASAROOKIEwith just a few months of search and rescue experience under his belt, Vince saw every call as a new challenge. Though veterans might approach another auto accident or fallen hiker as the type of incident they had competently dealt with dozens of times before, Vince’s mind raced with a review of everything he had learned about the protocol for this type of emergency, and the awareness that one misstep could potentially jeopardize someone’s life.

No one was looking at their mission Tuesday evening as routine, however. Rescuers lined the road above Carson Canyon and followed the beam of a handheld spotlight until it came to rest on a pickup truck snagged in an almost-vertical position on the sharply sloping canyon wall. The truck’s front end was smashed, the windshield shattered, the back bumper and half the rear-cargo area extending out into the darkness beyond—a canyon that was easily a hundred yards deep. “It looks like the front axle is snagged over that boulder.” Danny lowered the binoculars he had been using to survey the scene and handed them to Tony. “See what you think.”

“I don’t see anything to secure chains to,” Ryan said. “How are we going to stabilize the wreck enough to make it safe for us to go down there?”

“Shine that light into the cab,” Tony said.

Grace, who was holding the light, shifted the beam to illuminate the cab.

“Looks like at least two people in the vehicle,” Tony said. “Still secured by seat belts. They’re not moving, so they’re either dead or unconscious.”

“We need to get a wrecker out here,” Caleb said. “They could hook onto the frame with chains and it wouldn’t go anywhere.”

“One of us will have to climb down and hook it up,” Eldon said. “We’ve done it before.”

“We’ve done it before,” Ryan said, “but not to a vehicle in that kind of precarious position.”

“And not in the dark.”

“Let’s get some lights out here,” Danny said. He took out his phone. “I’m going to call for a wrecker. But I want you to start rigging for the rescue. Approach it as if we don’t have a wrecker available. You need to secure the vehicle, get the rescuers down safely, and lift out the driver and passenger.”

“See if a helicopter is available,” Sheri said. “It might be easier to lift the victims out by air than to try to drag them up this steep slope.”

Danny acknowledged this and spoke into his phone. Ryan turned to Vince. “Come help us with the rigging.”

“Could I help?” Bethany spoke up.

“Have you done any climbing training yet?” Ryan asked.

“Not yet.”

“Then it’s probably better that you help with setting up the portable work lights. Everything will make more sense to you after you’ve got a little more training under your belt.”

“Oh, uh, sure.” She gave a wobbly smile and hurried away.

Ryan smirked. “Don’t say anything,” Vince warned. He wasn’t in the mood for teasing—no matter how good natured—over the new girl’s infatuation with him.

Ryan held up his hands. “I didn’t say a thing.”

Ryan, Vince and several others set to work constructing the intricate series of ropes, chains, anchors, pulleys, knots, brake bars, carabiners and other hardware to construct a spiderweb of lines that would enable volunteers to travel safely up and down the steep slope.

Two trucks from the highway department pulled up with a bank of work lights that did a better job of illuminating the accident scene. Close on their heels, Bud O’Brien arrived with his largest wrecker, which featured a long boom that could extend over the canyon. A portly man in his late fifties with a wad of chewing tobacco puffing out one cheek, Bud peered over the edge at the smashed truck. “I can get it out of there,” he said. “But one of you will have to hook it up.”

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