Echo

TWENTY

That night, two days after the press conference, Carmen woke me shortly before dawn. “Call from Alex,” she said.

I rolled over and looked at the clock. “At this hour?”

“Do you want me to tell him—?”

“Carmen, did he say what it’s about?”

“No, Chase.”

“Put him through.” She knew without my saying anything to keep it audio only. I heard the click that indicated the channel had opened. “Alex,” I said, “you okay?”

“It’s Rachel.” His voice was flat. “Thought you’d want to hear it from me before you see it on the morning news shows.”

I froze. “Hear what?”

“She’s up on the Trafalgar Bridge. Half over the rail. I’m on my way there now. Maybe I can talk her off the damned thing.”

The Trafalgar is located twenty kilometers northwest, where the Melony enters the mountains. At that point, the river splashes down into a long canyon. The bridge, designed for both pedestrians and ground traffic, crosses the canyon. If you’ve ever been on it, you know how high it is. Probably three hundred meters to the river. If Rachel jumped from that, she wasn’t going to swim real well after she hit the water. “You think she means it?” I asked.

“Probably.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’ve just left the house.”

“Okay. I’m on my way.”

“I doubt there’s anything you can do, Chase.”

I got dressed and hustled outside, climbed into the skimmer, and took off. I was barely in the air when I heard the first media reports. They hadn’t identified her yet, simply talking about a woman threatening to jump from the bridge. I put the images on-screen. She was on the south side of the bridge, outside the guardrail. She had only a few inches of walkway to stand on. There wasn’t much light, and I couldn’t get a good enough look even to be sure it was her.

Below her, the river looked desperately far away. Melony Road was visible, of course. It runs along the south bank, but at that hour there were no moving lights.

A police officer had straddled the rail and was talking with her from a few meters away. He was nodding, holding up his arms. You don’t want to do this. Every time he leaned forward, tried to move closer to her, she pushed out over that awful chasm. I couldn’t hear either of them, but it was enough to stop him. Once, she let go with a hand and seemed about to fall, but she grabbed the rail again and clung to it. The woman was obviously terrified. Don’t do anything sudden, I thought at the cop. Wait her out, she’ll come down on her own.

Police had blocked off the approaches. Skimmers were circling; ground vehicles were pulling off the road to watch. Police were trying to reroute the traffic north to the Capital Bridge. As I got closer, a voice broke in: “Emergency situation in progress. Please leave the area.”

A police skimmer moved in close and repeated the message. Official vehicles were scattered across the bridge. They got closer with the imagers, and I could see it was Rachel. “I know the woman,” I said. “I might be able to help.”

“Are you the sister?” the voice asked.

I didn’t know anything about a sister. “No. I’m an acquaintance.”

“Name, please?”

“Chase Kolpath.”

They hesitated. Then: “You’re not on the list. Sorry.”

Trafalgar was a resort area with a population of about eight thousand. I couldn’t find a decent place to park, and I finally landed in a field outside town. I climbed out, walked onto Melony Road, and saw the clutter of people and vehicles ahead. It was our fault. Damn it, I’d warned Alex.

It was cold, and I wished I’d stopped to get a jacket.

At the bridge, people and vehicles were piled up in front of a police barricade. I pushed through the crowd and got to the front just in time to watch a taxi descend onto the bridge. Police and medical people were scattered across the span. A cruiser was drifting down out of the early dawn. I couldn’t get anyone’s attention, so I ducked under the cable. Somebody yelled, and suddenly I was confronting an officer. “Back off, lady,” he said.

“I know her,” I said. “Maybe—”

“Please get back, ma’am.”

“I know her. I might be able to—”

He held up a hand. Made a face as if he were trying to identify me. “You know who? The jumper?”

“Yes. If you’d let me talk to her—”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I really can’t do that.”

He started away. “Okay,” I said, “can we try something else?”

His shoulders tightened, but he stopped and turned. “What?”

“Contact Inspector Redfield. Ask him if it’s okay to let me through.”

He scowled. It had been a long night. “Wait one, please.” He walked over and talked to another officer. The conversation went back and forth while I tried to see what was happening with Rachel. But there were too many people on the bridge, and I couldn’t see her. Then the second officer came over. He wore three stripes on his sleeve. “What’s your name, ma’am?”

“Chase Kolpath.”

“And you want us to check with Inspector Redfield?”

“Please.”

“Wait one.” He retreated a few paces and started talking into his link. I couldn’t hear the conversation. Gulls flew past. More people arrived. Another media team descended on the scene. Then he came back and handed me the link. “Talk to him,” he said.

I took it. “Fenn?”

“Chase, what are you doing out there?” He sounded as if he thought it wasn’t a good idea.

“I’d like to try talking her out of jumping.”

“I’ve just gone over this with Alex. If you go near her, that might be all she needs to send her over the side.”

“Is Alex coming?”

“Not anymore. He agreed it’s too dangerous.”

“Fenn, I might be able to stop this.”

“Or you might make things worse.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Chase, I’m not sure it’s entirely in your hands.”

I stood there, holding the link, looking at the cop.

“All right,” he said finally. “Let me talk to the officer.”

I ducked under the lines and hurried out onto the bridge, threading my way between the vehicles and the police. Ada and Doug had arrived and were talking with Rachel, gesturing, pleading with her while she hung outside the railing and shook her head.

No.

Doug saw me, screwed up his face in outrage, and held up a hand. Keep away.

Rachel was flushed. And terrified. She peered down into that awful chasm, gripping the waist-high rail so tightly, I wasn’t sure it would be possible for her to let go. She pulled her eyes from the river and looked back at her nephew and his wife. She was fighting off tears. Skimmers circled overhead.

Then those eyes found me. Her face hardened.

Doug started in my direction. Get out. Go away.

Rachel said something to him. He stared at her, and she went on talking. Ada put an arm around his shoulders, spoke to Rachel, and tugged at him. Tried to get him away.

I waited. Doug’s eyes blazed with hatred. His wife continued talking to him, continued pulling until, to my surprise, he gave in, and they both retreated a few steps.

Rachel seemed to be waiting for me. Her face was a mixture of fear, resignation, anger. “Don’t do it,” I said. “Whatever this is about, it’s not worth your life.”

“How would you know?”

I went a few steps closer, almost close enough to try to grab her. And, incredibly, she smiled. “Why do you work for him, Chase? You’re not like him.”

“Rachel, please. Come back inside, so we can talk.”

“We can talk.”

“Look, I’m sorry this happened. We never intended any harm.”

“I know.” Her voice steadied. “It’s not your fault. Not anybody’s fault, really. Except mine. You were just doing what you do.”

“That’s exactly right. And if we realized—”

“Shut up a minute. I don’t want any empty promises. It’s probably too late anyhow.”

“Why? What’s—”

“I asked you to shut up.” She took a deep breath. “It’s not your fault,” she said again. “It was inevitable that it would come out. I just wanted you to know. So you don’t blame yourself.”

“Don’t do this, Rachel.”

“If you want to do something for me—”

“Yes. Anything. If you’ll get away from there.”

“I’d like you to back away from this business.”

“Okay.”

“Forget the tablet. Will you do that?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t suppose you can get your idiot boss to do it?”

“I think he will.”

“You don’t believe that yourself. But try. Please.”

“I will.”

“Thank you.” She looked over at Doug and Ada, standing just out of earshot. And she said good-bye.

When I saw what she was about to do, I lunged for her, caught her wrist as she let go. We fought each other and screamed at each other. Then she twisted free.

Ada and Doug and the cops and I don’t know who else all converged on us as she slipped away. Rachel’s eyes brushed mine, pleading for help. Then she was gone.

We all stood looking down. I never heard the splash when she hit.