Mean Streak

By twelve thirty, his bladder was bursting and he was hungry. He pulled his jacket up over his head and dashed to a deli he’d made note of earlier. He ordered a sandwich, then went into the bathroom and peed a quart, at least. He returned to the car with his food and drink. After eating, because of yesterday’s long flight and short night, he struggled to stay awake as the afternoon progressed.

For stimulation, he opened the file and reviewed material he already knew by heart.

Physical description: six-four, two hundred and twenty-five pounds, dark hair, blue eyes, crescent scar above left eyebrow, one tattoo on lower abdomen. DOB: February 3, 1976. POB: Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Education: Bachelor of Science degree, Constructional Engineering, Virginia Tech. Military Service: Army. Criminal history—

Jack glanced up in time to see the subject’s only known relative flip the sign on the door to her shop. She’d waited until straight up five o’clock to close, although she hadn’t had a customer in more than an hour. She was as disciplined as her brother.

Jack let several vehicles go past before he pulled out into traffic behind her. He followed her home, not turning the corner onto her street for a good five minutes after she had. He drove past the house. The garage door was down. She hadn’t come out to get her mail yet. There was a magazine sticking out the top of it.

He drove to the end of the block and parked under the conifer, put his camera within reach, and yawned broadly as he settled in for another hours-long vigil.

It lasted only a couple of minutes.

Rebecca came out onto the porch, but she didn’t stop at the mailbox. Instead she popped open an umbrella, strode down the front walkway, stepped off the curb, and—

Oh shit!

She marched down the middle of the street straight toward him, and she was steamed.

Chapter 22

I don’t know.”

The semicircle of faces around Emory’s hospital bed registered varying degrees of the same expression—disbelief. Jeff’s was tinged with consternation. Drs. Butler and James exuded a sympathetic bedside manner. The two detectives regarded her with skepticism.

She repeated, “I don’t know. Not his name. Not the location of his cabin. I’m sorry. I know you were expecting me to give you a full explanation, but the truth is that I don’t remember much.”

Jeff leaned down and whispered in her ear. “This isn’t a test, Emory. Don’t become upset. If you can’t remember, it’s okay. What matters most is that you’re back.”

“Your husband’s right, Dr. Charbonneau,” said Sergeant Detective Sam Knight.

He had introduced himself as the lead investigator on her missing person case. He had a grandfatherly countenance and a laid-back manner. Because she had liked him immediately, she hated lying to him. Although, stripping the facts down to their bare bones, she didn’t know the name of the man she’d spent four days with. Nor could she lead them to his cabin or locate it on a map.

Knight gave her an encouraging smile. “Take your time. We’re in no hurry. Let’s take a different approach. How ’bout telling us what you can remember, not what you can’t.”

“I remember parking my car near the overlook on Saturday morning and setting out to run. But beyond that, my recollections are indistinct. I don’t even know if they’re sequential. They’re piecemeal.

“I remember waking up with an excruciating headache. I was dizzy and sick to my stomach. I threw up at least once that I remember. But time had no relevance. I drifted in and out of consciousness. Until I woke up this morning.”

That was a lie, and everyone must have suspected it was because no one spoke for several moments.

Then Knight said, “Going back to Saturday, you told us you ran the Bear Ridge Trail. Any particular reason why?”

At least she could answer this one truthfully. “I’d marked it on a map I had of hiking trails. The map showed it to be winding but eventually ending at an overlook on the other side of the peak. That was to be my turnaround.”

“Bear Ridge branches off into others. Might be helpful for us to see your map, so we’d know exactly where you went.”

“I’m not sure I took the path I charted. As it turns out, my map wasn’t that reliable or accurate. It designated Bear Ridge as being paved. It was, but badly. Long sections of it are reduced to little more than a gravel path. I think I must’ve fallen in loose gravel and hit my head on a rock or boulder.”

Jeff gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s a miracle that you survived.”

Unanimously they had marveled over her basically sound physical condition. She had assured them that being admitted to the hospital was unnecessary, but her protests had been overruled. The detectives, Jeff, and the ER personnel had insisted that she have a brain scan, and when it confirmed that she?

??d suffered a concussion, it was decided that she be kept overnight for observation.

She had disagreed, but by then the two doctors with whom she shared the clinic in Atlanta had arrived, and they concurred with the local medical staff. She was staying in the hospital overnight. Period.

The cut on her head had been examined. It was healing. Nevertheless, it had been thoroughly cleaned with a strong antiseptic, and she was given antibiotics to counter any incipient infection.