When She Flew (13 page)

After debriefing, radioing in for results on the background checks, and compiling their data, now they needed to come to some kind of conclusion. It was gut-check time.

Jess reached to pet the scruff of Larry’s warm furry neck. If it hadn’t been for him, they might never have found Ray and Lindy. They were well camouflaged, well hidden, and it had only been their scent that drew the dog to them. He’d done his job admirably, no matter what the consequences.

“Good puppy,” Jess said softly. Even in his sleep, he sighed and his body stretched in contentment at the compliment. Her own body ached, especially her right shoulder, and ham-strings, and feet. Her temple throbbed, and she was famished. Everyone else had to be feeling worse for wear, too, but no one complained.

“Let’s wrap up,” Everett said. “The facts as you see them, Officer Villareal.”

“Well,” Jess said, determined to argue her case persuasively, “we’ve verified they’re who they say they are, Raymond and Melinda Wiggs, formerly of Aurora, Colorado. Mother is out of the picture and seems to be a practicing drug addict, hasn’t filed for custody or pressed any charges that we’ve been able to track down. Father has no outstanding warrants, no priors, and one tour of duty in Iraq. The girl appears healthy, well educated, well adjusted, and their relationship seems appropriate and beneficial to her. Other than camping illegally, I have to say I’m searching my brain for what they’ve done wrong. I mean, is she really in danger?”

Z nodded beside her.

From behind them Jenkins cleared his throat. Jess turned to look at him.

“Officer Jenkins?” Everett pointed his flashlight high enough so they could see Jenkins’s face.

“Well, to be honest, I do think we have a child in danger here. She’s living out in the open. She’s not enrolled in school. They have no visible means of support other than a small disability pension. And, uh, we haven’t actually ascertained yet whether or not there’s been any sexual or physical abuse.” He shrugged. “That’s how I see it.”

Jess drew her lips tight against her teeth, trying to nod. He was entitled to his opinion.

“What about the swastika?” Greiner said. “Isn’t anyone going to mention that?”

“It’s moot,” Z said. “How often do you get two separate stories that line up like this? I mean, they each said it was a symbol of good luck and protection and happiness and all that stuff. That’s how they view it, and as far as I know, freedom of expression still exists.”

“Barely,” Jess muttered, and Z smiled, glancing at her sideways.

“But—” Greiner tried.

“It checked out when I had them Google it at the station,” Jenkins said. “Svastika, an ancient Sanskrit symbol, an ancient Native American symbol, an ancient—”

“That doesn’t matter,” Greiner said. “Not since Hitler. Everyone knows what it’s a symbol for now. Maybe not the girl, but I don’t buy that this guy doesn’t mean it exactly the way everyone means it now. He’s a survivalist. He’s from freaking Colorado. I mean, don’t they breed white supremacists there?”

“Sarge,” Jess complained. How was this a sane and rational discussion between police officers?

Greiner wouldn’t stop. “And give me a break. The guy’s obviously got some pretty serious post-traumatic stress going on. Isn’t anyone concerned about that?”

“We get it, Officer,” Everett snapped. “And there aren’t many boys coming back without some shell shock. He’s clearly competent.”

“And how about the press?” Greiner continued. “They’re gonna have—”

“Enough,” Everett barked. “The press isn’t going to hear about this. Not if I can help it. Not yet anyway. Agreed?” He shone his light in each officer’s direction, and they all nodded, except Greiner.

“Agreed?” Everett steadied the beam of light on Greiner’s face. “We’re not going to do either of these people any good by selling them out to the media or by leaking rumors. You’re a professional, Officer Greiner, and you’d damn well better act like one, or I will personally kick your ass. Do I have your cooperation?”

Greiner flinched and nodded.

Everett dropped the light to the center and blew a long breath. “Jenkins is right, though. We can’t let them keep on living here. Even though it’s a clean, well thought-out camp, it’s a camp. I think we might overlook the illegal camping charge, but we can’t let a kid live like this. We have to get DHS involved . . .”

There was a collective groan.

“I know,” Everett said. “DHS isn’t perfect, but nothing is. So, I want to take a poll. Anybody think we should charge Wiggs with child endangerment?”

Greiner twitched, but no one moved.

Thank god,
Jess thought.

Everett continued. “Okay, then, who thinks the girl should be in foster care?”

Feet shuffled. Jess held her breath, hoping no one would say anything, but Greiner said, “I do.”

After a moment, Jenkins said, “Ah, hell. I do, too.”

Everett shone his light at Larry, who slept soundly. “Dog man? Villareal?”

Jess looked at Z. He had his hand on the dog’s back, watching it rise and fall as Larry breathed in and out.

“I guess we should,” he said, looking back at Jess. She turned away.

“Villareal?” Everett asked again.

Her jaw tightened. “I disagree.”

“I had a feeling.”

“Not because I’m female.”

“I know that, Villareal,” he said. “It’s because you’re difficult.”

Everyone laughed and Larry stirred. Jess put her hand on his head. It was as soft as a baby’s blanket.

“Could we just let them get a good night’s sleep?” she asked. “Come back for them tomorrow?” Even she could hear it—this wasn’t Officer Villareal talking. It was Jess the mom, and she clamped her teeth together to prevent any further outbursts.

“No way,” Greiner said. “They’ll bolt.”

“It’s gotta be tonight,” Everett said, “but first we have to get Wiggs to agree to walk out. Jenkins, I want you and Villareal on that. You’ve established the relationships with them. Tell Mr. Wiggs we can’t let them camp here illegally, but we’ll help them out all we can with housing and public assistance, school, all that stuff. Don’t tell him about taking the girl away, though. Let’s break that one to him when we get to the vehicles. No need to make it any more traumatic than it has to be for either of them.”

The meeting broke and Jess watched Jenkins walk toward the small campfire Ray had built.

She turned to Everett. “Sarge, can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

He looked at her in the dim light filtering up from their lowered flashlights. Was it the Halloween trick of light, or did he look older than he had when they started out that day? He nodded, and they walked down the log steps toward the creek.

“I’m concerned,” Jess said quietly. “What do you think this guy’s going to do when we take her from him? What if he grabs one of our weapons? What if he takes her hostage, tries to run off with her? Are we going to give chase? How hard are we going to pursue him?”

“I know, I know,” Everett said. “We still have to do it. We’re trained public-safety officers, Villareal. We don’t lose control of our weapons”—he’d known all along, and Jess felt the sting of shame he intended—“and we don’t let him near the girl once we’re near the vehicles.”

“No further discussion?”

“No further discussion.”

“Yes, sir.” Jess turned and walked back up the steps, waiting until she was far enough away in the dark to shake her head. Why not just take them to a shelter? That would be least damaging thing for the girl, and the most humane thing to do for both of them. And if they were going to split them up, they should at least wait until they were back at the station.

As she neared the campfire, she patted her shirt pockets, her pants pockets, looking for her cell phone. It must have gone flying when she fell. She had to go find it. The route was becoming familiar now, even in the dark.

“I’ll be right back, Ellis,” she called to Jenkins.

He nodded his chin at her and turned back to Takei, Ray, and Lindy on log stools around the fire, everyone smiling, even Takei. That damn Jenkins—he’d probably told them the goofy frog joke, the one he dragged out whenever dealing with scared juveniles. She’d always loved that about him, but this time it was only going to make things worse for the girl, building her trust in them just to snatch it away.

Climbing back up the embankment she’d tumbled down, Jess felt every muscle in her thighs and calves and feet working overtime; she hadn’t tortured them this much since she’d tried out for track in high school. She pushed herself up every step with a hand on each thigh. When she got to the area where she’d found her weapon, she stooped over, breathing heavily. She’d have to take half a bottle of ibuprofen to get any sleep when she got home.

Slowly panning the flashlight back and forth across the ground, she stopped at the jutting rock that had tripped her, looking for the glint of plastic that would be her phone. She got down on her knees, feeling through the foliage, raking her fingernails against dirt, afraid she might grab something reptilian or buggy, but nothing. She moved back, expanding the search area, skimming the light over more crumpled ferns and digging through vines and pine needles. She’d have to borrow someone else’s phone, call her number to hear it ring. Wouldn’t her fellow officers love that? Maybe if she asked Jenkins, he’d keep quiet about it.

“Damn,” she said, pushing on her thighs again to stand up.

Small creatures skittered in the dark; a breeze rushed through the branches overhead, sending down more pine needles and their woody aroma. She was about to give up when she heard a comforting sound, the
beep beep
ing of her phone, notifying her she had a message. She followed the sound with her flashlight until she saw the phone resting against the root of a tree many yards downhill from where she’d hit the ground. No wonder she hurt so much.

Quickly, she picked it up and dialed voice mail.

“Jessica?”Her mother’s voice, as if expecting her to speak.“Oh, well, I just wanted you to know that Nina called tonight—”

Jess’s heart stopped.

“—and she’s thinking about driving down with Mateo for his birthday this weekend. He told her that’s what he wants, to see his grammy and great-grammy. Isn’t that the sweetest thing? That child . . .”

Jess clicked off and scrolled through her missed calls. Nina hadn’t even tried calling her. She punched her mother’s number up and hit SenD.

“Oh,” Clara said. “Hello?” As if she didn’t know what a phone was for.

Jess took a breath to steady herself, trying to calm the tension in her voice, erase the stress of the night’s events, of the strained relationship between them.

“Hey, Ma. Great news about Teo and Nina. Maybe we can have a party or something. I’m on a crazy one tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She needed to get back.

“Is everything all right, Jessica? What’s going on?”

“No, it’s fine.” Why had she said “crazy”? “Just a case.”

Her mother harrumphed. “You’re too old to be on patrol. It’s too dangerous. Why can’t you just take that detective test or find some other kind of job? I hate having to worry about you every single night.”

“Then don’t, please, okay?” It was a recurring conversation Jess hated. “You should go to bed. It’s late.”

“Do you have any idea how it feels to wonder if your daughter has been hurt, or in an accident, or—”

“Do you think I don’t worry about Nina? That I don’t worry about that girl and Teo every single day, still? How can you even say that?”

Her mother was silent.

“I mean . . . come on, Ma.”

“Please, don’t. I’m just so worried about you, all the time. Every night is a nightmare for me, wondering if you’ll . . . if it will . . .” Her voice broke and Jess knew she should apologize, but couldn’t bring herself to.

“It’s not gonna happen again, Ma. No god would let it happen twice.” Of course this wasn’t about Jess, not really. It was about her father.

After a long moment and the sound of her mother blowing her nose, Jess said, “Look, I’m sorry. Can we just talk tomorrow? I have to get back.”

“Call me in the morning to let me know you’re all right.”

Jess wished she hadn’t snapped at her almost as much as she wished she hadn’t called her back. It had been a weak moment at the mention of Nina and Teo.

As she returned to the group around the fire, a long, loud screech burst across the sky. Jess screamed much the way Jenkins had earlier in the day—like a terrified little girl.

“What the—” Jenkins yelled now, and they all turned to track the sound across the camp and into the trees as it died out, replaced by the sound of something so lovely that Jess thought maybe she was dreaming. It was Lindy laughing.

She looked at the girl, her small, pretty face lit by amber light. She’d clapped her hand over her mouth the way young teen girls did probably the world around. Takei tried not to smile as he shook his head; Jenkins had his forehead in his hand. Ray looked at the fire, amused, it seemed.

“Stupid owl,” Jenkins muttered.

Lindy’s face was animated now, the tired smudges gone from her eyes. “Isn’t that the most horrifying sound?”

“Well, yeah!” Jess put her hand over her heart. “That is definitely something. Was that Sweetie-pie?”

Lindy shrugged and leaned sideways into Ray. “Probably, but there are other owls in the woods, you know.”

He gently knocked his knuckles against her knee. “Don’t be rude, Lindy. Respect your elders.”

“Sorry,” she said, but still she smiled.

Ray shook his head, a smile lurking but not quite materializing, and he and Jess briefly made eye contact over the fire. He looked away and said, “We’ll be needing more of our belongings.”

“Well, whatever you two can carry yourselves,” Jenkins said. “Ten minutes, okay?”

Ray nodded and stood. “Come on, Lindy. Bring your pack.” The two of them stood and slipped their arms beneath their backpack straps, then walked to the base of the tree and climbed easily up the rope ladder, Lindy first and Ray following when she’d arrived at the top.