Page 84 of The Girl in the River

Shading his eyes from the blinding sun with his hand, he joined them.

“Does look like a car down there,” Milo said. “I’ve already called a tow truck to haul it from the water.”

Cord nodded as he eyed the situation. The only visible part of the vehicle was the rear bumper which was barely sticking out of the water. He gestured to the other SAR workers.

“Search the area for the driver in case he or she survived and got out.” It was doubtful but miracles sometimes happened. “Milo and I will go down and take a look.” He indicated to the medics. “You may as well stay here until we see what we’re dealing with.”

The team agreed, and Cord and Milo put on their waders, then grabbed goggles, flashlights and crowbars in case they needed to pry open the car door. The force of the water and mud could have glued it shut. Depending on how long the car had been submerged, water might have leaked in.

“There’s a trail around here,” Cord said. “We’ll follow it instead of repelling.”

He led the way, hacking at weeds and swatting flies as they plowed down the hill and wove through the rough terrain. He kept his eyes trained for snakes, scanning the path in case the driver had gotten out. If they had, they’d probably sustained injuries from the crash. Or depending on the timing of the crash, they could have succumbed to injuries or the elements, and the team might find a body instead.

His breath heaved out as he listened for a voice or a scream as he pushed on through, winding around the trail and wiping sweat from his face. When they finally reached the creek edge, he and Milo assessed the situation.

“Creek must be about four or five feet deep here,” Cord said. “Maybe even a little deeper. I’ll go in and see if the driver is still in the car.”

Milo gave a nod, then walked up and down the riverbank, searching for signs someone had escaped the vehicle. Cord pulled on rubber gloves, adjusted his goggles and waded into the water. Beavers had built a dam to the right, and he saw a lizard sunbathing on the log. Muddy water sloshed up his waders and the scent of rotting moss and lichen rose around him.

He felt the car’s bumper but it was cold, suggesting the car had been here for a while. Taking a deep breath, he ducked below the water. Just as he expected, the car had nosedived in, probably at such a rate that it had gone deep and the mud sucked it down farther.

He swam to the driver’s door and used his flashlight to see inside. Though the water was muddy, he pressed his face to the glass and panned his light across the interior.

A woman was inside, head face down over the steering wheel.

ONE HUNDRED TWELVE

CROOKED CREEK

Ellie laid her head back against the headrest, her mind spinning as she and Derrick left Mark’s.

“I’ll drive you home to rest,” Derrick said. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks a lot,” Ellie grumbled. “But I’m fine. A few bruises won’t stop me from finding Mia. Time may be running out. I can feel it in my bones.”

“That’s the beating talking, reminding you to take care of your body.”

Ellie chuckled, then cursed. “Don’t make me laugh. I want to find Patty Lasso’s brother. Maybe he had something to do with all this.”

“I figured you were going to say that,” Derrick said. “So while you had your beauty sleep at the hospital…” He gave her a wry look. “I did some digging. Patty’s brother’s name is Chuck. He’s got a sheet for petty crimes. Mostly drug-related. He did a few months in prison about five years ago.”

The hair on the back of Ellie’s neck prickled. “Interesting timing. Where is he now?”

“Foggy Mountain,” Derrick said with a twitch to his mouth. “Drives a delivery truck for Moon Stillery.”

Was Patty’s brother in the Moons’ pocket? Ellie winced at the sun beaming through the windshield and covered her eyes with her hand. God, her head felt like it was going to blow right off.

“I want to—”

Derrick squeezed her hand. “Sleep, Ellie. We’re heading there now.”

ONE HUNDRED THIRTEEN

SOMEWHERE ON THE RIVER

Mia was so weak she could barely lift her hand to collect her water bottle. Whoever the monster was who’d taken her had left her nothing to eat but crackers. Was his plan to starve her to death? Or keep her so weak and disoriented she wouldn’t have the energy to run even if she had the chance?

She already felt that way. Trapped, like she had five years ago. Haunted by wondering what had happened to her parents. Then… Patty…

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