The Push Page 4

  “Can’t tomorrow night. Jerry is taking me to a movie,” Lane said, tightening the shirt around her waist.

  “So, that’s still going on?” Philip smiled to himself.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? We’re good friends.”

  “Yeah, that’s my point. Friends. You’re stringing the poor guy along, Lane.” Philip’s eyes carefully scanned the area ahead of them. The footing would be cautious from here on out.

  “Just because I’m not looking for…”

  “All right. Forget I even said anything.” Philip held up his hands in mock surrender and then suddenly stopped short, causing Lane to run into him. “Whoa, look over there.” He pointed at what appeared to him, to be boot sized indentions in the loose rock heading east.

  “What am I looking at?” Lane stepped up beside him, squinting in the direction of his finger.

  Ignoring her question, he walked over and bent down, pulling from the loose rock a small book.

  “What is it?” Lane hadn’t moved, eager to keep going up trail.

  “It’s a mini trail guidebook. Janie was using one like this. I remember looking at it with her.” Philip searched the area, focusing on the set of boot prints he could just make out. He surmised they were heading in the direction of Shale Rock trail.

  “I think she might’ve crossed this way. Decided to cut over and take the quicker path up to the summit.”

  “Why do that? Why ask for the easy path, which will take you double the time, then suddenly change your mind and take the harder trail?” Lane approached Philip, taking the trail guidebook from his hand.

  “For that very reason. Because it was taking too long.” Philip proceeded forward, hunched over and looking down at the ground. “Looks like she wasn’t alone or someone else came this way too.”

  “Should we follow or keep going up Indian flat?” Lane, usually the decision maker, decided to defer to his knowledge of the trails and tracking abilities.

  “My guess is she got tired and decided to cut through here. It’s loose rock and it’s sharp, easy to roll an ankle. Follow my steps if you can,” Philip directed and without waiting for confirmation, started to head east towards Shale Rock trail.

  Within twenty minutes, the two found themselves standing in front of a small ridge.

  “It would make sense if she came this way. Just over this formation, you should start to see some goats. There’s a big ledge they like to leap off of, so they can get to the cliff walls. It’s a nice view point for climbers as well. Come on.” Philip jumped onto the ridge boulder and held his hand down to Lane, offering to help her up and over the hump.

  Lane, looking at his offered palm with a mixture of annoyance and chagrin, sternly shook her head in the negative before jumping up unassisted, giving him a bright smile.

  “I’m a big girl, Ranger.” She patted Philip solidly on the chest, walking past him, then called over her shoulder, “Even wore my big girl panties today!”

  Philip, ever amazed at how independent and stubborn she could be, rolled his eyes and started to follow. He’d only taken a few steps to catch up with her, when he heard a gasp of child-like wonder. She’d spotted the mountain goats.

  Never having seen one before, except for pictures in magazines like the National Geographic, Lane was surprised at how huge, yet majestic and nimble the goats were for their lumbering size.

  “They’re beautiful!” she exclaimed.

  “They are,” Philip agreed, “To be honest though, they don’t belong here. This isn’t their natural habitat. There’s no salt in these rocks.” He moved up beside her. “They belong in the Cascade Mountains.”

  “No salt?” Lane looked perplexed. “Why do they need salt?”

  “They don’t necessarily need it, but they do really like it. They’ll lick rocks with urine or sweat on them. Sometimes deciding to skip the rocks and go straight for the hiker.” He started to wander towards the ledge. “Olympic Park had a fatality by mountain goat not long ago. They don’t know for sure if the animal was simply trying to get salt off the hiker or was just being hostile in general. People forget, because they’re goats, they can be aggressive animals.” He nodded towards the closest billy goat. “Using those shiny black horns for more than butting each other.”

  “You weren’t worried about sending the girl up here by herself to find them?” Lane asked, not accusingly, but curious.

  Philip shrugged, “She had a fancy camera. I figured she’d just zoom in. Besides, I told her to throw rocks at them if they got close and start heading in the opposite direction.”

  Lane looked at the goats with a bit less wonder and more caution than she had a minute before.

  “Hey, Lane! Over here!” Philip’s tone changed as he ran to a yellow knapsack. It was unzipped and opened. A sweatshirt and water bottle lying beside it.

  “There’s a couple of granola wrappers here,” Lane said, looking at the ledge, watching her step as she climbed down. “I wonder if she’s still up here? Might have sprained an ankle and couldn’t get back do—,” Lane started, but was interrupted by the sound of Philip’s two-way radio.

  “Ranger Russell? … You there? Over.” A male voice crackled through the static of the speakers. They were almost out of range.

  “I’m here. Gabe? That you? Find anything?” Philip asked, his ear cocked towards the portable radio. Lane, hearing an echo, realized it was coming from the direction of the ledge.

  “Yeah. We found her.” Gabe’s voice transmitted through the two-way a few seconds after it echoed up from below. Lane wandered closer to the edge of the cliff and Philip followed, the two-way held against his chest. “She’s deceased.” Gabe’s voice carried upon the wind.

  Inching onto the ledge, they peered down together, spying the two young men standing beside the sprawled and lifeless body of Janie Engles.

  “She fell,” Lane said solemnly, forcing herself to lean over the cliff’s edge to get a better look at the body.

  Lucas, hearing Lane’s voice from above, looked up and waved, indicating he saw them. His other hand was holding his t-shirt over his nose and mouth. Lane could only imagine the smell. The body having laid out in the hot August/September heat for days. She started turning green just at the thought.

  “That’s one hell of a fall,” Philip marveled at the distance. “Think she slipped?”

  Lane shook her head and considered the goats, who had been attracted to the sound of the portable radio. “Maybe a goat attacked her? Butted her right off the edge?”

  Philip immediately shook his head in the negative. “Butted her off the edge? You and your imagination, Lane.”

  Lane opened her mouth to give her next suggestion.

  “And don’t try to tell me she threw herself off the ledge because a goat was coming at her either.” Philip recalled the last time Lane had suspected suicide in an apparent animal attack.

  Lane let out a loud huff and gave Philip an annoyed frown.

  “That’s not what I was going to say.”

  “Sure, it wasn’t.” Philip shook his head, mildly amused at her denial, then quickly spoke into the two-way radio. “Gabe, we’ll start heading down. Don’t approach the body, okay? Best to stay a few feet back. Over and out.”

  Gabe waved his understanding from below and then ushered Lucas away from the scene, heading back into the surrounding woods.

  Philip watched them until they disappeared and then sighed heavily. “I’m more apt to think she slipped and fell,” he said, taking a cautious step away from the edge and facing Lane.

  Lane frowned at the two granola wrappers by her feet and then over the edge, down on Janie’s distorted body.

  “Or she was pushed.”

  Chapter 6

  Philip, once again using his personal cell phone to document a possible murder scene, took a quick inventory of the area before the two started their way down to the body. Lane, who always kept a few evidence bags on her person out of habit, had quickly scooped up the granola
bar wrappers and then directed Philip to put the water bottle and sweatshirt back into the knapsack to carry down with them.

  “How did we beat them all the way up here?” Lane asked out of breath, jogging down the trail, once again following Philip’s lead.

  “My guess is they were careful and took their time, while we sort of took a short cut. A good portion of our hike was off trail.” He took a sharp right and then cut across another path, suddenly calling out, “Lucas? Gabe? You close by?”

  “Over here, Ranger Russell!” Gabe called in return and Philip kept heading straight.

  As they grew closer, Lane could smell the hint of something foul upon the air. She grabbed her handkerchief and tied it around her head, covering her mouth and nose. It smelled of mild BO, but it would nevertheless smell better than what they were walking into.

  Philip, glancing back at her, took note of her bandana mask and asked, “You got another one of those?”

  “Sorry.” Lane’s eyes were sympathetic.

  Philip grunted his disappointment.

  The two turned slightly left and began to follow the sound of murmuring voices. A few steps more and Lane could make out a conversation.

  “Poor Janie.”

  “Did you know she was back on the island?”

  “No. Maybe Amy or Angie did?”

  “Think Brent knew?”

  “Hold up...I hear them.” Lane guessed it was Lucas speaking. “HEY! We’re across the creek!”

  “I see you!” Philip yelled in response, stepping around a large cedar.

  Sitting on an old stump was Gabe with his head bowed, hastily wiping at his face. He looked up as they approached, his eyes red and cheeks ruddy. Lucas stood beside him, his hand on Gabe’s shoulder comforting his friend.

  Philip waved a greeting and splashed through the small creek separating them, while Lane nimbly stepped on the large stones avoiding the cold water.

  “You fellas, okay?” Philip reached Lucas first, giving him a manly pat on the back.

  In response, Lucas nodded his head and pounded Philip’s in return.

  “We’ve known Janie since we were kids,” Gabe stood up. “We were hoping to find her alive.”

  “We all were, Gabe,” Lane said, kindly. “Why don’t you two head on back to the ranger station? We’ve radioed the volunteers and I’ve asked Calvin Morton to take count, make sure everyone made it back okay. I don’t want him thinking he’s missing you two.”

  “What about the…um…Janie?” Gabe picked up his pack, looking over to where the body laid several feet away.

  “Got the coast guard bringing in a helicopter to lift her out. We’ll take good care of her,” Lane promised, solemnly.

  “See you back at the station then,” Lucas said, grabbing Gabe’s arm, leading him towards the creek.

  “Thanks for your help, guys,” Philip said, starting to make his way in the direction of Janie’s body.

  Lane followed a short distance behind, gauging the cliff they’d been peering down from. Marveling at the height, she guesstimated it was at least a five hundred-foot drop…maybe even six? She’d have to ask Philip.

  Drawing closer, the two could hear the buzzing of flies, the sound disturbingly loud. They proceeded forward and slowly approached the body. Philip had to wave his arms several times to disperse the black mass, the stench of decomposition wavering thick in the air. Together, they watched as the flies settled, finding plenty of space on the legs and abdomen to land. Lane’s stomach rolled and she bit down on the inside of her cheeks, willing herself to inch closer.

  “We’ll have to hurry. Chopper should be here in a few minutes,” Lane urged through clenched teeth, unsure if she could trust her stomach. Philip nodded and waved his arms again, sending a black cloud up into the air.

  Steeling herself, she bent over the body and looked down at the dead girl, pity in her eyes. The young woman had fallen flat on her back, one leg tucked under and the other sprawled to the side. The back of her head was crushed in, her eyes still open, staring blankly up into the September sun, glassy and glazed. Lane noted the body was bloated, straining against the clothing, a sure sign she’d been dead for a few days.

  Taking a deep breath and instantly regretting it, Lane began to look around the blood-soaked rock. Philip, busily taking photos, held the end of his neck tie to his mouth and nose, doing his best to stay out of her way.

  “Shouldn’t there be a camera?” Lane questioned, now standing at the foot of the rock.

  “Yeah, a big fancy one. Long lens. She had it dangling from a strap around her neck.”

  “It’s not there now.” Lane walked away from the corpse, searching the area. “Think she was holding it when she fell? It wasn’t in her backpack, was it?”

  Philip roughly shook his head “No.” He was trying to avoid talking, the smell being so over whelming.

  “Maybe she had the camera in hand and flung it when she fell?” Lane muttered, speaking more to herself than Philip. She made her way over to the neighboring shrubs, parting the branches to look through them.

  Philip stopped taking photos and gazed upwards towards the ledge with a calculating eye.

  “If she did, it could be quite a few feet away. Might be upstream.”

  “I’ll go check it out,” Lane volunteered. The sound of a helicopter hovering in the far distance caught her attention. “Don’t have much time.”

  Philip nodded his agreement and continued to take pictures.

  Needing to get closer, he hopped onto the large rock and leaned over the body, holding his breath. His heart fluttered as he looked into Janie’s eyes, remembering the last time they had talked. She’d been smiling, warm and friendly. His two-way radio squawked.

  “This is Coast Guard District 13, Jayhawk 6083, ETA two minutes. Over.”

  “Roger. We’ll be waiting for you. Over and out.” Philip could clearly see the bright orange and white helicopter on the horizon flying over the ocean. “Lane, …Coast guard will be here in less than two minutes!” Philip yelled, putting the portable radio in his backpack. He didn’t hear anything in return. “Lane?” he called again. “Lane!”

  “Yeah…I heard you!” Lane hollered, pulling down on her bandana mask.

  Impatient to answer, her full attention had been concentrated on following the small creek, her eyes glued to the ground. Not finding anything, she continued on, wondering if she needed to double back. Unsure, she paused and held her hand to her forehead, blocking the sun to watch the helicopter come in.

  Now at its highest point, the sun was brilliant and she squinted against it. She blinked a few times, trying her best to peer further upstream. A bright glare on the water caught her attention and her heart sped up. Eagerly, she ran down into the creek, water splashing up her leg with each hurried step.

  There, crushed against the rocks in the middle of the streambed, was a camera covered in plastic. She bent to swipe it up, but stopped short.

  There was blood soaked into the neck strap.

  “That’s odd,” Lane said to herself, pulling a pair of latex gloves from her pocket, picking up the broken camera by its strap.

  A fine mist suddenly lifted from the creek, blowing against her skin, as trees and shrubbery around her were violently tossed back and forth by fast-moving blades. She quickly tucked the camera under her arm for protection, the coast guard helicopter unexpectedly looming above her.

  The sound was deafening this close and she could easily see the pilot as the helicopter continued to maneuver downstream and then stop, hovering in place. Doing her best to shield her eyes, she watched as an orange stretcher was slowly lowered to the ground, followed by two men in harnesses.

  Dropping her hand from her brow, she started to head for Philip and the new arrivals. As she walked, she examined her find. Careful to remove the torn plastic rain sleeve, which held the zoom lens in place, she noticed the lens itself had a long fracture running down the side. The rest of the camera, water logged despite the cover
, showed clear signs of damage. Cracks and chips easily visible.

  Flipping the camera over, she stopped in her tracks. The little hinged door, which kept the memory card enclosed, was open with no memory card inside. Wondering if she had accidentally left it behind, she returned to where she’d found the camera and started searching for the missing card.

  She’d been at it for only a few minutes when she felt the wind shift and looked up to see the chopper flying overhead going the opposite direction. It was heading out to sea, where a Coast Guard Cutter was waiting in choppy waters to take Janie’s body the rest of the way to the mainland.

  “They’ve got her,” Philip called, approaching Lane, carrying their gear. “I see you found the camera. Looks pretty banged up.”

  “Yeah, and it’s missing its memory card.”

  “Could’ve fallen out. I’m sure the camera probably bounced a few times when it hit the ground from that height.”

  “Possibly. But something else is off.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If the girl had the camera in hand and it was lost in the fall, landing all the way in the stream… Why is there blood soaked into the neck strap?”

  Chapter 7

  Philip opened his mouth to caution a guess, when they heard heavy footsteps coming their way. Distinctly the sound of someone running and running fast, crashing through the bushes towards them. Both turned in the direction of the incoming noise, both curious as to what the runner might be running from.

  Expecting danger, Philip purposely stepped in front of Lane, stretching his arm out in front of her in a protective manner. At the same time, trained to protect, Lane purposely went to step in front of Philip. The two collided, with Philip out weighing Lane by more than seventy pounds, tripping a step ahead of her.

  It was Lucas who came bursting through the bushes. Upon seeing them, he stopped short, bending over at the waist with his hands on his knees. Swallowing air, he held up a finger, signaling he’d speak as soon as he caught his breath.