Perilous (15 page)

“You’re not the first person that had bad things happen to you. You can’t let it stop you from living the rest of your life.”

She studied him. “Where’d that come from?”

He slapped a hot fish down on the dirt in front of her. “Dinner is served.”

“Do I just pick it up and eat it?”

“Here.” He crouched beside her, using a stick to pull up on the skin. “It comes right off.” He slid it off, exposing the hot flesh and bones.

Jaci’s hands trembled, and she picked it up, sucking the meat off the bones.

“Most people don’t eat the organs,” he said, watching her. “Normally.”

Everything tasted wonderful. Jaci stopped at the head and eyes, her hunger finally tamed enough to be picky.

Ricky squinted up above the tree line. “There’s a bit more sun left. Are you up to walking until nightfall?”

Jaci looked at the other fish cooling. “If I can have one more fish.”

Chapter 25

Ricky led the way upstream the next day. Jaci watched him tear pine needles off a branch before tossing the last piece into the raging water below them. The sun broke through the cloudy sky, sending beams of warmth down to the earth.

Ricky had failed to catch a fish for breakfast. It seemed to have left him in a bad mood. He hadn’t made any attempts at conversation.

Jaci picked up one of the pine needles and stuck it in her mouth. She sucked on it, careful not to poke her gums or lip. It helped get rid of the taste the water had left.

“So what do you and Neal like to do for fun?”

“Neal’s idea of a good time is studying for a test, or reading a text book.”

“I take it you’re not the intellectual type?”

He laughed. “Come on, now, you figured that out the first day we met.”

“So what do you like to do?”

“Oh, you know. The usual stuff.”

“Like?”

“Oh, sports, movies, food. What about you?”

“Well, I’m kind of like Neal. Straight-A student. I also like to run. Sara and I were on the track team at school.”

“So you like sports, too.”

“What about what Neal said? About you being on probation?”

“I got in trouble.”

“No kidding. What did you do?”

“Well, it’s just this bad habit of mine, ya know? I caught the bathroom on fire and got suspended.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah. Overkill, huh? That’s what you get in a small town.”

They backtracked a little past where the dam had broken before they found a wider place in the stream. It had stretched to twenty feet across, with eroded bank on either side. It looked to be about three feet deep.

“We’ll cross here,” Ricky said, stopping.

Jaci shook her head. “It looks dangerous.”

“It is. See that fallen tree?” He pointed at the far side.

“Yes.”

“It’s right at the deepest part. Let me get there, I’m a good swimmer. Then you just have to get to me.”

Her heart hammered. “Maybe we should keep looking.”

“It’s not going to get better, Jaci. We can wait a day and see if it gets lower. Or we can try now.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s try.”

Ricky descended the bank. The water crept up to his waist, and she chewed her lip, watching him fight the current. He moved slowly, but reached the log and turned around.

“Come on, Jaci. I’m here.” He motioned for her.

Jaci slipped into the water, fighting tears as the cold bit into her skin. She gasped as it reached her navel. She wasn’t much taller than five foot. She took a step forward and nearly lost her footing. Her hands flailed, looking for an anchor, finding none.

“Look at me, Jaci. Come this way.”

She focused on Ricky. A slight frown creased his features, and he moved his hands as if pulling a rope. She took another wobbly step. The water pushed her, and she froze, planting her feet into the rocky bed. She shot out a desperate prayer.

Please give me courage.
She took a deep breath and plunged onward.

Within minutes, Ricky’s hand grabbed hers and pulled her to the log. She wrapped an arm around it, clinging to it, shaking.

“You did it.” Ricky guided her out of the water.

Jaci collapsed on top of the bank and burst into tears.

Ricky pulled her to him. “You’re safe now. You made it.”

In the afternoon of the next day, Jaci thought she saw motion ahead of them in the trees. She squinted, hoping it was her friends and not hungry wild animals.

A flash of orange caught her attention. The orange backpack. She grabbed Ricky’s hand. “Ricky! I think I see them.” She pointed up ahead.

She made out Sara and Amanda as they got closer. She stopped in mid-step, noticing their haggard appearance. They huddled together at the base of a tree, mud and dirt covering almost every inch of their faces and clothing.

“Sara!” Jaci called out.

Sara shot to her feet and raced toward them, leaving Amanda to scramble up after her.

Ricky let go of Jaci’s hand and caught Sara in a hug.

She turned on Jaci next, wrapping her arms around her neck and clutching her. Silent sobs shook her body. “We were so worried. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Sara. Are you?”

“Shh.” Sara pulled away, her face pale. “There’s someone out here.”

Jaci’s fingers tightened around Sara’s arm. “What do you mean?”

“We heard him yesterday,” Amanda said. “Talking on a radio or something. Saying he thought he’d found our trail.”

“Maybe it’s a good guy.”

Sara trembled. “And if it’s not?”

Ricky looked past the girls. “Where’s Neal?” he asked.

Sara put her head in her hands and began to cry.

“Where’s Neal?” he repeated, an edge hardening his voice.

“He left us!” Sara cried into her hands. “You didn’t come back. He tried to cross the water. The dam broke. It swept him downstream.”

Ricky jerked as if he had been stabbed. “Where is he now?”

Amanda shook her head. “We don’t know. We followed the river here to this point. It forked into two rivers, and we didn’t know which one to take. There’s no sign of him. We’ve been here for two days.”

“I’m going back.”

“No, Ricky, don’t!” Amanda cried, grabbing his arm. “We need you.”

“I can’t leave my brother,” he said, his voice anguished.

“Please don’t leave us,” Sara sobbed.

“I’m so sorry,” Amanda said. “It’s my fault, Ricky.”

Ricky looked at Sara. “What’s she talking about?”

“Amanda tried to pull him from the river. But the current was too strong. It ripped Neal’s hand from hers,” Sara explained.

He shook his head. “It’s my fault. I should’ve come back, like I said I would.”

Jaci moved over to a bare spot of ground by a half-finished fire circle and sat. She picked up a rock, noting how her hand shook.

She was exhausted and wanted to cry. “Sara,” she said, “come sit with me.”

Sara obliged. Jaci gave her a quick hug, then pulled Sara’s hair back and played with the ends. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

Sara leaned forward, arching her shoulders. “Don’t touch my hair. It’s gross.”

“Oh, who cares,” Jaci chided. “You always liked me to braid your hair.” It soothed her as well, a touch of normalcy in this insanity.

Ricky joined them, crouching to go through the orange bag. “Sara, tell me where you and Amanda looked for Neal.”

“We just followed the river downstream until it split. We didn’t go in it. Maybe we can help you. We could follow one stream and you the other. But you’d have to find a way to cross it.”

“Crossing it’s not a problem. You need supplies. What can I take with me?”

“Whatever you want.” Sara pulled her chin up. “We’re coming with you. Don’t leave us behind.”

Ricky picked up the orange bag. “Give me a day to find Neal. Just one day.”

“No,” Sara pleaded. “Let us come with you. Don’t leave us.”

Ricky looked at Jaci, his eyes imploring her for help. “I can do this better alone. Just stay hidden. Stay quiet, like you did.”

Jaci swallowed back her protests and nodded, rubbing Sara’s shoulder. “We’ll be okay. We did just fine before we met you.”

He gave her a smile. “Yeah. That’s right.”

Sara helped him load up the orange bag with bottles of water. That was really all they had. No bandages, medicine, stretchers. A box of raisins. He didn’t need the matches.

There was a scream. Jaci jumped, recognizing Amanda’s voice. “Where’s Amanda?”

Ricky dropped the bag. “Stay here. I’ll find her.”

The shriek came from just down the ravine. Ricky took off in that direction.

Jaci and Sara stood paralyzed, waiting.

“Should we go?” asked Sara.

“Yes.” The word came out in a strangled whisper.

A few minutes later Ricky and Amanda stumbled through the ferns and trees, carrying a limp figure between them. Sara let out a small cry and hurried forward. “It’s Neal!”

Ricky lowered him to the ground at their feet.

“Is he okay?” said Jaci.

Ricky nodded. “He’s breathing.”

Sara knelt over him. “Where did you find him?”

Amanda pulled on her hair, looking pleased with herself. “I was chasing a rabbit, and I stumbled across him.”

Neal stirred. “Oh,” he moaned.

“Get water,” ordered Ricky.

“Here.” Jaci tossed a water bottle to him.

Neal opened his eyes. He tried to sit up but winced and fell back down.

“Where’ve you been?” Tears welled up in Sara’s eyes. “We’ve looked for you for days! Why didn’t you come back to the camp?”

Neal pushed himself up on one arm, flinching a little. “I fell in. I couldn’t get my feet on the ground, and I blacked out. When I came to, I was stuck on a log. On the wrong side of the river.”

Ricky brushed his hands on his pants and stood up. “You need to rest.”

“When did you become responsible?” Neal closed his eyes and leaned back. “Okay. I’ll rest.”

October 13

Little Falls, New York

“Here you go.” The receptionist at the Little Falls courthouse placed a file on the counter. “These are the court proceedings for the legal adoption of Neal and Richard Collins.”

Carl opened up the file and began scanning the first document, wondering what exactly he hoped to find. There were no living relatives. The boys had been living with a grandmother, surviving off the government’s mercy.

The first page listed the facts: date of hearing, those present, who presided. It was the second page that began to get interesting.

Carl read the minutes. There had been somewhat of a fight to get the boys. The grandmother begged the court not to separate the four-year-old twins. The minutes even stated she would rather have neither if it meant keeping them together.

The judge awarded her custody of both boys. He granted her a government stipend of ten thousand dollars a year, as well as government housing, provided she continued to work. If she lost her job, she was in danger of losing the boys to the foster care system.

A fairly generous verdict, Carl thought. Judge Acuff had bent over backwards to keep those boys together.

There was no mention of any other relatives. He finished up the final verdict and one sentence leapt out at him: “Custody of Abigail Collins: Not granted.”

His mind went on rewind. He flipped back to the first page of the file. Somehow he had skipped over the name of the case.

“Jocelyn Bennett vs. the state of New York. Deciding legal custody for Neal, Richard, and Abigail Collins.” Abigail Collins. There had been another child.

“Ma’am? Can you copy all of these court records for me, please?”

She eyed him. “I’ll need a photocopy of your badge.”

He tossed it on the counter. “There.”

She disappeared with the file. Carl would wait until he had those copies before he made his next request.

She came back with his badge and the papers.

“Also, Ma’am, I’d like to see the file on the adoption of Abigail Collins.”

She examined the file, resting the folder in the crook of her elbow. “Was this not it?”

He shook his head. “No, Ma’am. Jocelyn Bennett was denied custody of the girl. I need to know where she went.”

“Let me see if I can find it.”

She left, and Carl tapped his fingernails on the counter.

Finally, she returned. “I’m sorry, but I can’t show you that file. It’s a closed adoption.”

“I’m a detective. I need this for a case.”

She shook her head. “I’ll need a court order from the judge, or a search warrant. His secretary’s office is on the third floor. If he thinks you need the information, he might give you a court order before the end of the week.”

“Is it still Judge Acuff?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you very much.”

It was Monday. He wasn’t leaving Little Falls until he had that file.