Fatalis

Chapter Thirty-Five

Grand was accustomed to driving the hills and was having no trouble keeping up with the Wall. Not that there were many places the photographer or Gearhart could lose them, especially with his flashing lights bouncing off the slopes. In about a quarter of a mile, the Divide Peak RV Route would end and intercept a very short spur of East Camino Cielo. From there, they could only head west in the direction of the Painted Cave or east toward Pendola Road. Pendola Road ran toward the northwest and was the location of four campsites: Juncal, Mid-Santa Ynez, P-Bar Flats, and Mono.

"What makes you think Gearhart will let us stay?" Grand asked Hannah as they neared the end of the Divide Peak Route.

"He won't," Hannah said. "But he can't chase us away without a reason and, with luck, it'll take him at least a minute or two to get one."

The Wall reached East Camino Cielo and turned east.

"They're headed toward campgrounds," Grand said.

Hannah shook her head. "This is amazing."

"What is?"

"All of this," she said. "Discovery, a story unfolding, piecing things together, danger."

"Going nose-to-nose with Gearhart on his turf?"

"Busted," Hannah said with a guilty grin. "Yeah, that too."

"I guess it's different being part of the news instead of just covering it," Grand said.

"Totally."

"But I can't get it out of my head that people are dying out here. It puts a different imperative on the process."

"That's what I mean," Hannah said. "What we do can make a difference. It's the main reason I got into this business."

They started up Pendola Road and immediately turned off at the Juncal campsite. The site was located in the Santa Ynez river drainage. As Grand pulled up he saw seven campers parked well apart on the thickly treed grounds. There were four motor homes, two pop-up campers, and a large fifth-wheel trailer. The lights were on in some of the RVs, off in others. High, grassy hills rose beyond the site, blocking most of the moonlight.

Gearhart and the Wall were moving toward the campers. An officer from the Pendola Ranger Station was already there; Grand recognized the green Chevy truck. A flashlight was moving toward Gearhart. Grand pulled up near the fifth-wheel trailer, a thirty-six-foot Gulf Stream Conquest. He and Hannah got out. Hannah hurried after Gearhart.

"Sheriff," said the short, middle-aged, clean-cut ranger in a brown uniform.

"What've we got?" Gearhart asked.

"Blood," replied the ranger nonchalantly. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Looks like party night in ' Nam over there."

The men started walking into the heart of the camp. "How many victims?" Gearhart asked.

"So far I haven't found a one," the ranger said, "But I haven't gone into all the campers yet."

"You said there were guns."

"Two," the ranger replied. "They were different locations. Each one got off a round, but that was-"

"Help!"

The cry was small, thin, and high.

Everyone stopped talking, stopped moving, and listened.

"Daddy?"

The voice was coming from inside the Gulf Stream Conquest. Grand had stayed by his SUV and was the one nearest the trailer. The door was only ten feet away. He ran toward it.

"Grand, wait!" Gearhart shouted.

Grand did not intend to wait. Whoever was inside might be hurt. Seconds could matter.

The door was located in the front of the trailer. There was a large pool of blood to the left of it, large, ugly scratches on the wall beside it. Grand opened the door with the sleeve of his jacket so he wouldn't smudge any fingerprints. He stepped back and listened.

"Grand, dammit!" Gearhart shouted.

Grand didn't hear anything from inside the trailer. He went up the stairs and looked in.

The lights were on and the camper was relatively neat. There was part of a stuffed animal on the floor and uneaten dinner on the dinette. The drapes of the bay window were drawn. He moved down the center of the RV toward a side aisle. There was another room in back.

"Hello!" Grand said as he moved into the master bedroom. He stopped and looked under the queen-size bed. "Is anyone in there?"

"I'm here," said the small voice.

It came from a bath suite in the back. Grand hurried over. The door was shut. He didn't know if it was locked, but he didn't want to open it. Not if the girl was hiding from something. He knocked.

"Are you in there?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Are you okay?"

"Uh-uh."

"May I come in?"

"Where's my dad and mom?"

"We're looking for them," Grand said softly. "But we found you. My name is Jim. Could we talk just a little?"

"It was here," said the voice.

"What was?"

"The lion."

Grand felt his bowels tighten.

Gearhart arrived.

"Where was the lion?" Grand asked.

"It was outside and then it was on the roof."

"Well, it's gone now. Listen," Grand said carefully, "I've told you my name. It's Jim. Remember?"

"Yes."

"What's your name?"

"Eugenie."

"Eugenie? That's a very pretty name."

"And my rabbit's name is Blankie. But he lost his head when I was running."

"He did? Well guess what, Eugenie."

"What?"

"Blankie's head is out here. And if you open the door, there's this very nice man, Sheriff Gearhart, who will be happy to put Blankie's head back on his body."

The girl was silent again.

"Eugenie, are you all right?"

"Yes," she said after a moment. "I was just looking."

Grand felt a chill. "At what?"

She didn't answer.

"I've had enough of this," Gearhart said. He moved close to Grand. "Open the door. Whoever did this is getting farther away and she's our only witness."

"Sheriff, this girl is scared," Grand said. "She says she saw a lion. There's something else in there. You startle her and she may not want to talk at all." Grand took a breath and knocked softly on the door. "Eugenie?"

"Yes?"

"The sheriff would really like to fix Blankie. And maybe there's something you'd like. A snack?"

"I'd like my mom."

"Okay. How about you come out, tell the sheriff a little about what happened. Then maybe we can see where your mom went."

The girl was silent again. A moment later they heard clumping; it sounded as if she was walking in the shower or tub. Then there was a click and the door handle turned. A small, red-haired girl stood in the open door, a headless bunny tucked under her arm.

Grand smiled and crouched in front of her.

"Hi, Eugenie," he said. "I'm Jim Grand."

"Hi."

"And this is Sheriff Gearhart," he said, pointing up.

"Hi," the girl said.

Gearhart half-smiled.

"Now," Grand said, "if you go with the sheriff, he'll take you to Blankie's head. And maybe the three of you can sit down and talk."

Eugenie looked from the sheriff's face to his gun. "Okay," she said. "You go first, Mr. Sheriff."

Gearhart turned and left the bedroom. Eugenie was close behind him. She turned and looked at Grand before leaving the bedroom. She tried to smile but it stopped short of her eyes. They were guarded.

Grand smiled back. When she was gone, the smile faded and he looked into the bathroom. It was a small, brightly lighted room with oak-panel cabinets and a garden tub. There were pieces of cotton in the tub; stuffing from Blankie, he guessed. She must have been huddled there. He couldn't imagine what she was looking at until he looked up.

There was an oblong skydome over the tub. Ordinarily the stars would be visible, but not tonight.

Tonight, the sky was red.