Page 18 of Everything She Feared

“Would you be able to take them to Harborview?”

“Yes, we can take them,” he said.

“Mr. and Mrs. Shaw,” Pierce said, “we’ll investigate further to answer all the questions about what’s happened to Anna. We’re sorry for your loss. Our condolences.”

The Shaws may have nodded in thanks, or not.

It didn’t matter.

They held each other tighter under the blanket, pulling even closer, fused in their pain.

Pierce touched each of them on the shoulder before stepping away.

She found a private space where she took a deep breath and kept herself together before resuming her work.

This was the part of the job she hated the most, because each time she told a mother, father, husband, wife, sister, brother or friend that a loved one was dead, a piece of her died, too.

9

Near North Bend, Washington

Sara Harmon slowedher Trailblazer at the entrance booth for Sparrow Song Park.

No one was inside.

She accelerated past it down the paved ribbon of road, her pulse racing, glancing at her phone for updates, finding none. A helicopter thudded by low to the treetops, hammering her with dread.

I’ve got to find Katie and bring her home.

Earlier, that was all Sara could think about while she drove along the interstate, weaving her SUV around cars and trucks. Using the hands-free option and voice commands on her phone, she’d sent a barrage of messages to learn more about what had happened.

Back at the diner, in that first text, Connie Atkinson, one of the supervisors, had said there’d been a terrible incident at the camp and that Sara should come right away. After that, Connie’s messages were sporadic. The next said:There’s been a tragedy. Katie’s shaken but okay.

Tragedy? Katie’s shaken? What kind of tragedy?

Sara’s request to speak with Katie went unanswered.

Sara’s calls to Katie’s phone went unanswered.

Sara’s calls to Connie’s phone went unanswered.

Sara’s calls to Anna’s phone went unanswered.

Tragedy? What tragedy?

Then, in Connie’s most recent message, she’d instructed Sara to wait for Katie at the police line in the parking lot at the trailhead.

Police line? Dear God!

Now Sara was losing her mind as she came to the lot. The havoc of emergency vehicles, their lights flashing, with news trucks, cameras and people gathered at one end.

No spots were available. She parked on the shoulder, grabbed her keys, her phone, her bag and, still in her dark shirt and dark jeans for work, she ran.

Sara rushed to the end of the parking lot and the trailhead, where she’d glimpsed yellow police tape. Distraught parents were leaving with their kids, comforting them while walking to their cars. She pinballed from group to group, searching for Katie and for Anna, asking about them. No one knew anything.

Why hasn’t Anna contacted me? She’s so responsible.

Seeing TV reporters interviewing people, urgency mounting, Sara went to the nearest camera. Its lens and bright light were aimed at a woman holding a boy close to her. She was among a small group, talking to a woman who had coiffed hair, lots of makeup, and was gripping a microphone.

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