I’m pretty sure that if you say it’s fine, it’s fine. There are a lot of witnesses who’ll hear you give your permission.”
“You can search anything of mine. Hell, we have our blood and urine tested all the time. What do I care about a backpack?” Matt said. “Guys?” he turned to the others.
They all murmured that they had no objections.
“Then, Olivia, if you’d please get everyone mounted up? We’ll return everyone’s property later,” Vine said. “Deputy Callahan’s going to ride with you.”
“Wow. I finally got to use my iPod again,” Matt moaned. “And you’re taking it away.”
“We’ll get it back to you by tonight,” Dustin promised.
Olivia helped Mariah to her feet. “We just leave everything?” she asked Dustin.
He nodded, speaking to her privately as the others went to get the horses saddled and ready for the ride back. It was decided that Callahan would be riding Aaron’s horse.
“And stay with the deputy,” Dustin emphasized. “Get the kids back where they belong, and you stay with Callahan. I don’t like you being without me. I’d thought the answer might be here, but...no one reacted when I brought it up.” He shrugged. “So, I just don’t know.”
“You didn’t tell me anything about a dart gun,” she accused him.
“It’s a long shot.” He grimaced. “If you’ll pardon the bad pun.”
She nodded distractedly. “But who could have struck him? We were all at the campsite together.”
“None of us was at the stream when he went down there,” he said. “We didn’t realize Aaron was missing, there was so much commotion over Mariah.”
“You suspected Aaron,” she said. “You thought he killed Marcus.”
“I never put that into words.”
She took a deep breath. “Do you think he’ll make it?”
“He’s breathing, and they can keep him breathing. How long he was out, I don’t know.”
Drew had the kids saddling the horses. All the saddlebags—everything else—was left behind.
A dart could easily be hidden. And even though a dart gun was small, Dustin hoped he could see if anyone was carrying anything that looked suspect. He surveyed the riders and saw cell phones pressed against pockets, but nothing in the shape of a dart gun.
But, he figured, the dart gun could’ve been tossed in the forest somewhere.
When the riders were all mounted and ready to head back, he stood close to Olivia for a moment. She appeared to be calm and in control. She also looked drained and weary.
He wanted to rebuff the whole concept of searching for the dart gun—which he didn’t think he was going to find, anyway. He wanted to head back with Olivia, take a steaming shower and fall into bed with her. He’d never in his life regretted trying to be noble as much as he did now. And he hated the idea that she was riding away while he stayed.
When they were gone, Vine turned to him. “Listen, we’re not idiots or incompetent. Nor are we close- minded. We
“Methodical and boring,” Dustin told him. “We search everything. And, to be honest, I don’t think we’re going to find what we’re looking for.”
“So why are we doing this?”
“In case we do find something.”
He remained surprised—and impressed—by the turnabout in Frank Vine. But he figured the man was good at his job. He could probably maintain order, find the missing, collar rabble-rousers, and he no doubt ran a tight ship.
As he’d said, he wasn’t accustomed to murder—or attempted murder. Especially when it appeared that no one had been in the vicinity to cause an “accident” that might lead to death.
“First, can you use your radio and get hold of someone to see that Aaron Bentley’s kept under surveillance at the hospital?” Dustin asked.
“I can.” He studied Dustin, then shook his head. “You really think someone might have murdered Marcus Danby—and attempted to kill Aaron Bentley?”
“I do,” Dustin said.
“Okay, then. You call the shots.”
“I’m not trying to take over.”
“I’m not letting you take over. I’m giving you an order to call the shots.”
Dustin grinned. “Thanks.”
Using Dustin’s light and the sheriff’s more powerful one, they started at the stream. Daylight was upon them, but the water was murky and it was much easier to search ground, bushes and bracken with the extra light. Frank Vine was skilled at tracking; he found disruptions in the grass where Aaron had first walked. Vine also discovered exactly where he’d stepped into the stream and then fallen and nearly drowned. Dustin carefully searched the area where Aaron had fallen but to no avail. He’d been intent on saving a man’s life, not on collecting evidence. If a tiny dart had gone whistling at the man, it was now lost in the stream.
“Needle in a haystack,” Vine muttered.
“Doesn’t mean it’s not there,” Dustin said.
He and Vine backtracked and starting going through the bags and equipment at the campsite. As Dustin had expected, they found nothing.
While they searched, he and Vine discussed the case. “Why?” Frank asked. “Why the hell murder Marcus Danby? I don’t get it. Suppose someone had an old grudge. Something that festered in his mind for years. Okay, that might be a reason to kill. But we notice strangers and tourists out here. Say that had happened, anyway. Or, say, someone wanted the Horse Farm—but that someone would most likely have been Aaron Bentley, and now...”
His voice trailed off in confusion.
“I don’t know. I wish I did,” Dustin said. They’d gone through everything, every backpack and sleeping bag; they hadn’t found a thing.
Not one of the boys had been carrying “contraband,” not so much as a magazine.
He looked around. That morning, when he’d heard Mariah scream, he’d dashed out of his tent into the woods, in the direction of her scream. Still, he could remember how he’d gone.
“Let’s check the woods,” he suggested.
“Which woods?” Vine asked dryly.
“This way.” They started through the trees. There were a few trails—the woods in this area had long been the “washrooms” of the campground. But Dustin moved deeper, making his way to the exact spot where he’d found Mariah early that morning. Frank Vine walked ahead of him, while he searched the ground.
“What the frickin’ hell?” Frank yelled.
Dustin looked up. Frank was staring at something stashed in the trees. Dustin walked over to join him.
Frank Vine hadn’t found a dart gun.
What he’d found was even more perplexing.
The sun had fully risen now, but the wind was brisk and the ride back felt long. For the most part, everyone seemed subdued. But, of course, they were all worried about Aaron.
Olivia was numb. Cold and numb. She hadn’t wanted to believe that anyone at the Horse Farm could have wanted to kill Marcus, but now something had happened to Aaron, too. And it seemed highly unlikely that Aaron —with the most to gain from Marcus’s death—would have attempted to drown himself. Especially when he wasn’t in a position to believe that someone would be there to save him.
It all seemed crazy.
When they neared the Horse Farm, Olivia felt her phone buzz. She answered it. Sandra was on the other end, spewing furious words at her.
“Sandra, I can’t understand you. Please, calm down.”
“Is that idiot agent friend of yours around?”
