Page 59 of Wilderness Search
Aaron took out his phone and punched in Willa’s number. The phone in the bag vibrated.
He took the bag and turned back to Kelli and Jamie. Even though he knew the answer, he asked Kelli, “Is this your phone?”
She looked at the phone in the bag. “No.”
He kept his voice even. “Was there anyone else there at the pit toilets tonight, when you went to meet Mr. Sprague?” he asked.
“No.” She wet her lips. “I mean, not at first. He was waiting for me and he…he tried to kiss me. I tried not to struggle, but he was holding me so tightly, he was hurting me. I cried out, and I scratched at his face. He didn’t like that. He slapped me. And then someone shouted at us.”
“Who shouted at you?” Aaron asked.
“A woman. I didn’t get a very good look at her. She had blond hair, and she ran toward us. Mr. Sprague let me go and I ran.I ran all the way back here.” She looked at Jamie. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No. Of course not.” Jamie patted her hand and sent Aaron a questioning look.
“I’m sure this is Willa’s phone,” he said. “I think she was the blonde woman who shouted at Mr. Sprague.”
“Willa is the nurse who gave the first aid class to campers yesterday,” Jamie said. “Do you think this woman was her?”
“I don’t know,” Kelli said. “It was dark and I didn’t get a good look. I just wanted to get away.”
“I’ve been searching for Willa and I can’t find her,” Aaron said. “After Kelli left, Scott would have attacked her. He would have wanted to stop her from telling anyone what she had seen.”
Aaron was a cop. He had been in scary situations before. Once a burglar had held a razor to his throat, the sharp blade nicking him and drawing blood. He had talked down drunks armed with broken beer bottles, and done traffic stops with semitrucks whizzing by inches from his back. But never had fear hit him the way it did now—clutching his throat and threatening to pull him under.
Jamie studied him, then pulled out her radio. “We need to talk to Gage,” she said. “And we need to talk to Scott.”
Chapter Seventeen
“You have to bend down kind of low to get in here, but I promise it’s all right.” Olivia put her hand on top of Willa’s head and urged her to crouch down farther to squeeze into a narrow opening between two boulders. Willa did so, crawling on hands and knees through a short passage, gravel digging into her knees. Just when she was sure she couldn’t go any farther—the opening was too narrow—she felt fresh air against her face, and popped out into a wider space.
Olivia scooted in after her. She took something from her pack, then switched on a little LED light and set it on a tree stump. Willa looked around at a circular space, about four feet across with a floor of smooth sand. She raised her eyes to the ceiling, dark and flat. “That’s a tarp up there,” Oliva said. “I stole it from a wood pile at camp. I don’t think anyone has even missed it yet. The outside has about a foot of leaves over it. You’d have to dig down to even see it. It took me most of a day to construct it, but once I had it in place I didn’t have to keep moving.”
There was no missing the pride in the girl’s voice.
“I’m impressed,” Willa said truthfully. “Did you make the brush shelter in the national forest, too?”
“I did. But I only spent one night there before a hiker found it. I left to take a look around and when I came back, I saw awoman nosing around. I knew I had to have someplace better. Someplace closer to camp, so I could keep track of what was going on.” She knelt and opened her pack again. “Would you like some tea? I have a little stove and I can heat water. I only have one cup but we can share.”
“Tea would be good.” Willa sat with her back against the wall, knees bent, and watched the girl unpack a single-burner stove, like the kind used by backpackers. Olivia turned the knob and hit a striker and the stove lit. Then she filled a small metal cup from a bottle stowed in the side of the pack and set it over the flame to heat. She took a bag with what looked like shredded leaves in it and carefully sprinkled some in the cup. She looked up and caught Willa watching her.
“It’s just dried mint and some clover. It tastes better than you might think.” Olivia sat back and they waited for the water to boil. “How’s your ankle?” she asked after a moment.
Willa had forgotten all about her ankle. She felt it. Only a little puffy. “Not bad.”
“Did you hit your face when you fell?” Olivia asked. “Your lip is all swollen, and I think you’re going to have a black eye.”
Willa touched the corner of her mouth and winced. She patted the puffiness around her eye. “Someone attacked me,” she said. “By the pit toilet. He was… I think he was molesting a girl. One of the campers. I yelled at him and he let her go and went after me.”
“Oh God.” Olivia buried her face in her hands, and her shoulders began to shake.
Alarmed, Willa crawled to her. “What’s wrong? What did I say?”
Olivia raised her head and wiped at her eyes. Then she leaned forward and switched off the burner. “That will need to steep a minute.” The only sign that she was still upset was the way her hand trembled as she pulled it away from the stove. She took adeep breath and looked at Willa. “I’ll bet it was Scott Sprague who hit you. He hit me, too. But he killed Trevor. Or, I’m pretty sure that’s what he was doing when I saw him. That was why I had to run away. As long as he’s still walking around free I can’t go back.”
“Mr. Sprague killed Trevor Lawson?” Willa asked.
Olivia nodded. “I think so.”
