Waking the Dead Part 14

But in the next instant he was returned to the present. Gaze fixed on the woman at his side.

In a blur of motion Cait's gun was drawn and in her hand as she took off in the direction of the sounds.

"s.h.i.t. Wait!" But of course she didn't. No surprise there.

The surprise was feeling himself take off after her.

She was amazingly fast. Somehow he hadn't figured on that. He sprinted along, leaping over fallen logs, dodging around piles of stone until he was within a few feet of her. Voices sounded ahead of them. Young. Panicked.

"f.u.c.k, she's got a gun. Run!"

Cait stopped so suddenly that he had to swerve to avoid running her over. Lungs heaving, Zach watched as three teens scattered in different directions, stumbling through the brush and trees at a comical speed. "Did you see a weapon?"

Shaking her head in disgust, she reholstered her gun. And it occurred to him that he'd never seen anyone draw from a back harness as smoothly, as efficiently as she had. Headache or not, there was nothing wrong with her reflexes.

"Idiots. I don't know what they were doing, but those weren't shots."

"From the scent in the air, I'd guess Black Cats. Fire-crackers," he explained when she turned to look at him quizzically. "Light a strip and toss them in a cave and they really make some noise."

"They're illegal in most states."

"Well, yeah." He brushed past her to approach the area the kids had vacated. "Doesn't make them impossible to get. I think you can still buy them some places in Washington." She'd fallen in step beside him and he c.o.c.ked a brow at her. "Didn't you ever get your hands on M-80s when you were a kid? Toss them under a bridge when a semi was heading over it and the driver would think he'd blown three or four tires."

"Delinquent." Clearly she was unfamiliar with those particular delights of childhood. Her brow furrowed as she scanned the area. "So you're saying there are caves in this area?"

"Sawyer's Ice Caves. Forestry service has chained off the entrance from the road, and I don't think they're on the current maps. But they're not strictly closed to visitors. Just not publicized." He stopped and slipped off his backpack, taking out a flashlight. "Here." He switched it on and led the way to the small crevice sheltered by an outcropping of rocks. "See this?"

She took the light from him, dropping to her knees to peer inside. "How deep is it?"

"Not very. There's a larger one and a couple small ones like this. They're considered lava tubes, though you'll find much bigger ones near Bend. But there's ice on the floor of the caves even in the hottest summer temperatures." The last thing he expected was to see her shed her pack, unzip it, and withdraw climbing gloves. "If you didn't bring a hard hat you're going to end up with a far worse headache than you started with today."

"I'll be careful." Remaining in a crouched position, she started into the entrance.

With a mental shrug, he remained where he was. He'd crawled the caves as a kid, but he practically had to bend himself double to get inside now, and d.a.m.ned if he was willing to do that. So instead he got comfortable on a rock and watched Cait's shapely a.s.s as she made her way inside. There were, he reflected consideringly, far worse ways to spend a morning.

"There's ice on the floors!" Her excited voice drifted outside to him.

"I believe I mentioned that. There are also small stalact.i.tes on the ceiling, too, so watch your . . ." He heard a muttered curse and broke off the rest of the warning. Luckily she was the most hardheaded woman he'd ever known. She was going to need it.

In a few minutes she was crawling out again. "You said there's a bigger one?"

Silently he got up and led her to the largest of the caves and climbed down to its entrance. "You won't need the flashlight until you get deeper inside."

She followed him curiously. "Why is it so light . . . ah." Looking up, she saw the natural skylight in the forest floor above. "Have to watch where you're walking up there." He lingered in the opening while she explored the depths of the cave. This time she was gone longer than he would have expected. And her expression, when she finally came out, was thoughtful.

"They wouldn't have been good places to hide the bones."

Her quick sideways glance told him better than words that he'd guessed her thoughts correctly. And when the h.e.l.l had he developed that knack? Irritated, he began heading south to get back to the area they'd been exploring earlier.

Striding beside him, she asked, "Why do you say that?" She was peeling the gloves off her hands and stuffing them back inside the pack before slipping her arms through the straps. The Steri-Strips, he noted, were still in place.

And the fact that he'd observed that detail at all just made impatience stream through him. "The caves are too well-known. That ups the chances of someone stumbling on them before now. There are tons of bigger, roomier caves in eastern Oregon."

"Like near Bend."

"They would have been even worse choices, for the same reasons. Some of those caves are under the lease of a private company that arranges daily tours. Others are banned from tourists because of erosion or bat habitats, or whatnot." He lifted a shoulder. Oregon was nothing if not environmentally friendly. "Your guy would have been risking exposure to use any well-traveled tourist destination as his dump site. Many of these are also routinely maintained by the Forestry Service."

She was silent for a long time as they walked, and this time he didn't have a clue what she might be thinking.

But his mind was stuck on one thing. With the exception of his years in the Army, he'd spent his whole life in the region. It was clear that whoever put those bodies in the cave in Castle Rock was someone familiar with the area. Which meant it could be someone he knew.

Afghanistan had stripped away any illusions he might have once had. He realized people were capable of unspeakable atrocities.

But it was still hard to believe there was someone living in the area capable of this.

It was a couple hours and an undetermined number of miles before they happened upon a makeshift shelter that didn't appear abandoned. Cait walked around the small campsite, taking in the rotted log pulled close to the ring of stones that served as the fire pit. It would function as seating, she supposed, if one wasn't too fussy about comfort. And the current occupant of this site, although absent, didn't appear overly concerned with niceties.

"Fire's still smoldering." Zach stared into the distance, his mirrored sungla.s.ses making it impossible to see his eyes. "Someone used it this morning."

She poked around in the three-sided tarp strung between two pines that served as a shelter. There was a dented kettle stacked with some serviceable metal dishes in one corner on the ground. A battered can of Folgers, half empty. A rolled up sleeping bag in another corner. A backpack, dingy and torn, laid half beneath it.

Ducking out of the shelter, she started, "Whoever lives here, he doesn't have much in the way of . . ."

"I've got a gun pointed right at the woman's head."

The unfamiliar voice was gravelly, as if from lack of use. She stilled, her gaze scanning the area for the person it belonged to.

"Both of you get out of here. Leave my stuff alone and find your own site before I put a hole through her."

She glanced at Zach. Saw him jerk his head slightly to the right. Peering hard over his shoulder, she had to focus for long moments before she could make out a shadow in the underbrush several yards away.

"We're only here to talk to you. We don't want your things." Cait began to edge for the nearest fir. If there really were a weapon trained on her, she'd need the protection. She tried to catch Zach's eye, but the warning she'd intended was unnecessary. He was already moving in the opposite direction, splitting the man's focus.

"I've got nothing to say to you. Now both of you get the h.e.l.l out of here before I start shooting."

"That's a shame. Because I'm paying fifty dollars for cooperation. Just need some questions answered, that's all. How long you been set up here? A couple months?" She figured the answer was far shorter than that. "You might have seen the person I'm looking for."

There was a long silence. Then, "You got a lost hiker? I might be able to help you with that. I know this forest better than most."

"I have someone here who knows this area." She could no longer see Zach. Had no idea if he had taken shelter or if he was circling around to position himself in back of the owner of that disembodied voice. "I'm not interested in having a conversation with you hidden in that brush. If you want the money, come out here and talk to me."

There was a rustling noise and then a figure emerged. And once Cait caught sight of him, she was no longer worried about a weapon. The tattered flannel he wore was open to reveal a ripped black T-shirt beneath. In his left hand he held a dead rabbit by its ears. The long sleeve of the flannel was pinned up on the other side nearly to the shoulder.

A lot of life had happened to Stephen Kesey since the dated motor vehicle photo she had in her pack.

He tossed the dead animal toward the fire pit. "Where's the guy that was with you?" he asked suspiciously.

"Here." Zach moved into her line of vision. But he didn't come any closer to them.

Kesey shot him a cautious look before glancing at Cait again. "So it's not about a lost tourist? Seems to me they're the ones people kick up a fuss about. What's going on then? What do you want?"

If she hadn't seen the man's identifying information she'd have had a hard time determining his age. His long brown hair and untrimmed beard were liberally streaked with gray. Deep lines fanned out from faded blue eyes. He looked at least a decade older than his fifty-four years.

"How long has your camp been set up here?"

"A couple days, that's all. I like to move around a lot."

She suspected he was lying. There was no reason to break camp unless Forestry Service or a private property owner demanded it, and according to what Zach had told her earlier, the land they were currently on had no camping restrictions. So where had he moved from? "Any reason for that?"

The man fell silent, his gaze shifting. Cait pressed, "Seems like a lot of trouble involved in moving. You travel light, but there's still finding the right place. Somewhere you won't be bothered, either by forestry or people happening by all the time."

Still he said nothing. She dug in her jeans pocket. Hoped there was a fifty among the bills in there. "You ever see anyone around here at night?"

"Get a lot of fisherman before dawn when I'm near the river. Not in these parts, though." His eyes flickered when she withdrew some bills and peeled off a fifty to hold it up to show him.

"So you've been here a couple days and haven't seen anyone at night during that time. What about earlier? Where were you camping before you found this spot?"

"Couple miles west of Castle Rock." He gave a short bitter laugh and flapped his empty sleeve. "I can admit that, can't I, 'cuz there's sure no way in h.e.l.l anyone would suspect me of hauling those bodies up it to dump them."

Cait smiled easily, but her mind was racing. He might not have hauled the bones to the cave, but that didn't mean the man couldn't pose a threat. He managed to set up camp and take it down, pack, and travel around the forest, all one-armed.

Or he could have seen something, someone suspicious in the forest. There was no way the UNSUB could dump remains seven times and not be noticed once, was there?

"How'd you hear about that?"

"I've got a radio." He jerked his s.h.a.ggy head toward the shelter. "Battery operated. So I can know when bad weather's on the way. When I heard about the commotion on Castle Rock a couple weeks ago, I knew it was time to go. Too bad, too. Left a real sweet spot."

"Why'd you leave it?" At his sharp look, she smiled innocently. "Like you said, no one would believe you had anything to do with the deal at Castle Rock. So what was the point?"

"No reason. Just felt like it." His eyes sharpened when Cait took the bill she was holding and proceeded to shove it back into her pocket. "What's the deal?"

"The deal is you're lying. The fifty bucks is for telling the truth." She drilled him with a gaze. "Why'd you move?"

His faded blue gaze never left her pocket where she'd secreted the bill. "Didn't feel safe no more. There was a guy came by. Middle of the night. Pa.s.sed fifteen, twenty yards from my shelter. He had a shotgun. There are all kinds of crazies out here. I didn't need him coming back. Maybe surprising me sometime when I was sleeping."

"So you saw someone in the middle of the night who scared you?"

The man's beard waggled as he shook his head furiously. "Didn't say I was scared. Just careful. Careful enough to get up and follow him a ways. He was heading east until he just stopped. Never left the forest at all. Then he turned back and headed my way again, so I had to hide so he wouldn't see me."

She suspected the stranger he'd seen had been lucky to be carrying a shotgun. Kesey had probably had more in mind than caution when he'd followed the man. "What night was this?"

"Like I said it was a couple weeks ago. I heard on the radio the next day about the cops hauling bodies out of a cave on Castle Rock."

"You're sure about that? This occurred the night before the newscast?"

"The night before I first heard about it anyway. So like I said, he goes by me again and I figured he might've been out doing some poaching. 'Cuz he's carrying this bag on his back, right? So I followed him a bit farther from a distance to see where he was going. I lost him for a while, but after fifteen minutes or so he came heading back my way, still carrying the bag. I was behind some rocks and he stopped all of a sudden like he knew I was there. Couldn't have, of course. But it spooked me all the same."

Cait pulled her hand out of her pocket again with the bill and he eyed it avariciously.

"The next morning I started thinking I'd best just move out of the area. In case he really did know I'd been spying on him and came back some night."

"What exactly did he seem to be carrying?" When the man didn't answer she said, "Was it a backpack?"

"Couldn't tell for sure. Something dark, that's all I know."

"How long had you been at that campsite? The one near Castle Rock?"

He pondered that question for a few moments. "I don't really know. Months anyway."

She made a production of smoothing the bill between her fingers. "How many months? Two? Six?"

Kesey just shrugged. "Closer to three, but I can't say for sure how long."

"And you never saw anyone else around your site at night in all that time?"

"Kids sometimes. They come out in the forest to screw around. Drink beer and stuff. Otherwise I only saw that guy I told you about, and him just that once."

She slid her bag off her shoulder and crouched down to unzip it. Pulling out a pad and pen she rose and approached him, extending the fifty. When he s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of her hand, she casually offered the notepad. "Can you sketch the area where you were camping at the time?"

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Can't even draw a straight line with my left hand. Not that I was ever much better with my right."

"How long ago did you lose it?" She inclined her head slightly toward his missing arm.

"Two years ago." Now that Kesey had the money he was plainly in a hurry for them to leave. He was inching closer to his shelter. Away from her. "Got infection in a cut and the doctor amputated the whole d.a.m.n arm. f.u.c.king butcher."

Cait could imagine the condition the arm was in before he'd sought treatment. But she couldn't prevent a surge of pity for the man, nonetheless. "Just do your best with your left hand. I want a general idea of what your campsite looked like. Any focal points that might have been in the area."

Obviously humoring her, he drew a very rough drawing of fir trees and something that looked like a rock. A squiggly line that could have been a road or the river. Then he handed the pad back to her. "Best I can do unless you have a map."

"I do, actually." She sent a look to Zach, who had been standing by silently during the entire exchange. When she unfolded the map of the forest, he approached and squatted down next to Kesey while she studied the drawing.

The stranger was right. He was no artist. And while it was possible he'd deliberately made it appear like he had the ability of a talentless kindergartner, she was more inclined to believe that he lacked the capability of painting minute scenes on human scapulas.

Three hours later Cait's headache had subsided but for a nagging throb. They'd stopped for lunch and she sat cross-legged, leaning on her pack, which she'd propped against a pine. She had no idea where they were. But when she asked Zach to check off grid-lined sections they'd covered on the map, he never hesitated. Which was oddly fascinating, because if he disappeared at this moment, she'd be screwed. Except for the occasional outcropping of rocks or charred tree, most of the area they'd traveled that day looked pretty much alike.

The granola bars she'd purchased this morning looked neither tasty nor filling, but she needed the fuel, so she chewed unenthusiastically. Sharper was silent as he ate . . . she leaned over for a closer look. "Peanut b.u.t.ter?" The discovery brought a smile to her lips. "What are you, ten?"

His brow rose. "Peanut b.u.t.ter's a good source of protein. Besides"-he wadded up the plastic bag he'd taken it from in one hand-"I didn't have any food in the house. Closest decent grocery store is in Eugene, and it's not like I've been to town lately."

There was no rancor in his words, but she felt a tug of guilt anyway. "I have to get to Eugene tomorrow morning myself for at least a couple hours." She hadn't yet gotten those soil samples to Kristy, and she'd promised Barnes she'd get latent samples for the elimination match, as well. "That reminds me, I'll need to get a fingerprint sample from you sometime today."

He stilled in the act of shoving the wrapper back into his pack. And the look he sent her was sharp. "What the h.e.l.l for?"

"We have to . . ." Her cell rang then and she stopped to pull it from her pack. It took a moment to recognize the number. But once she did, the blood pumped a little faster in her veins. Rising to her feet in one smooth motion, she answered, "Detective Drecker."

"Fleming?" The Seattle detective's voice sounded in her ear. "Sorry this took so long, but Recinos's mother was hard to track down. Apparently she was on vacation. I did get some information from her to pa.s.s along, though. Recinos didn't have any arthritis that her family knew about, but she had broken her left wrist six months before her disappearance. Tripped over the cat, or something."

Her mind racing, she paced a distance away from Zach, although he couldn't help but hear her end of the conversation. It was possible the signs of osteoarthritis apparent on the remains hadn't caused the victim any particular problem before death. Also possible that her mother wouldn't know about every ache and pain her daughter had had. "And she wasn't adopted? This is her biological mother?"