Haunted (Michael Bennett 10)

I wasn’t much of a woodsman. That’s not one of the skills you develop when living in a big city. I could figure out what subway someone had taken and what neighborhoods to avoid, but tromping along a narrow trail surrounded by woods was not my usual preference.

Sandy, on the other hand, was raised in New Jersey and used to play in the Pine Barrens. She constantly reminded us what we were missing when we all worked together in the Bronx.

Now I understood what she was talking about. She noticed a freshly broken branch along the trail and pointed out that someone had been through there in the last couple of hours. She also was able to identify where someone had stepped by looking at the disturbed leaves lying on the ground. It was an impressive skill that I wouldn’t have believed unless I had seen it myself.

Occasionally we would stop on the trail and scan the woods with our flashlights. Once I picked up the eyes of an animal. Two red glowing dots in the distance.

I mumbled, “What the hell is that?”

Sandy matter-of-factly said, “It might be a bear. But it’s probably just a fox or a badger.”

I swung the light back that way to judge how far the eyes were off the ground, but I couldn’t find it again. That did not make me feel more confident in any way.

As we continued I kept hearing a rustling sound and had the distinct impression that we were being watched. I moved closer to Sandy and whispered my suspicion.

She was a pro and barely broke stride, but she turned her head to get a good view behind us. She said, “Maybe, but I don’t care right now. We gotta find these kids.”

It was unnerving, and I dropped behind a little. I turned once, quickly, and swept the light to the side of the trail. I caught a glimpse of something. I didn’t know what. Maybe a bright color. I hurried to catch up to Sandy.

I could feel the trail continue to rise as we marched along, finding signs every few hundred feet that someone had been there before us. I didn’t want to admit to Sandy that the woods were freaking me out a little bit. Maybe I had imagined being watched. I reached back and felt the weight of my pistol on my hip. When I do that in New York City, it gives me a feeling of security. In Maine, the idea of shooting a charging bear with my small pistol gave me a feeling of powerlessness.

Finally we stepped out into a wide clearing that gave us a beautiful view of the valley below us. We emerged from the woods onto the rocky flat that extended more than fifty feet.

Sandy walked right to the edge. She motioned me over. I knew it was a drop-off, and I wasn’t thrilled about getting too close. Finally she looked over her shoulder and said, “Come on, you little girl. Take a look at this.”

I crept closer to the edge and could see it was a sheer cliff. Eventually I was able to stand next to Sandy and look straight down. I fought the urge to grab her arm to feel more stable. I always disliked heights, and this was just crazy. Scary wasn’t the word that came to mind.

It felt like we were above the clouds, even though I knew it was just a little fog between us and the ground. I could just make out the stream below. Way below us.

Sandy said, “You don’t think they could’ve ended up going over this cliff, do you?”

I took a step away from the edge and said, “Who knows? I’ve heard that the suicide rate has been climbing steadily.”

Sandy said, “I know. The kids see something romantic in it. But not two of them at the same time. They wouldn’t just step right over the edge.”

She said it more as a hope than a fact.

I said, “Let’s head back to the car. The woods are freaking me out.”

As we started back down the trail, relief washed over me. I no longer felt like eyes were on us. I took the lead and followed the same trail down until I found a split. I didn’t notice it on the way up.

“Let’s look this way.”

Sandy noticed some trampled brush and said, “Good spot, partner.” Just as if I’d seen a suspect in a crowded bus station.

We followed the cutoff for fifty feet, then I froze.

On the ground in front of me was a green Nike athletic shoe.

The homicide detective in me kept me from picking it up. I inspected it where it was.

Sandy stepped around me and scanned the area. “Look here.” She shone her light on the ground.

In the pine needles, I could just make out the outline of a spot where someone had lain on the forest floor. I hoped it hadn’t been a dead body.

Chapter 49

Sandy brought in some officers from the state police to help search the area for the missing teens. So far no media had shown up, but it was just a matter of time before they did.