Much like air let out of a hot air balloon, he hisses, then stops. “Well, she’s an experienced hiker, ex-navy flyer. Worked for USAID until she got laid off.”
The level of his family’s angst appears disproportionate for someone in their thirties. “Is it unusual for her to go off the grid?”
“No… What’s concerning is her last text—I already told all this to the State Police.”
“Sorry, I’ve been out of range. Would you mind?” Maybe he holds the key to why his sibling doesn’t want to be found.
“Her message included a smiley face. Bree hates emojis. And by hate, I mean loathes. Someone else sent that text.”
Crap. No wonder her family is freaking out.“Can I ask—did she ever take a survival course?”
“Yeah. Several. Said it made her feel safer. Why?”
There, a footprint and another.
Phone on speaker, I resume my tracking. “Simply checking a few boxes.”Best not to give him false hope.
Huffing now, I reach a steep incline. “What can you tell me about her old boyfriend, Brett?”
“A bit of a player. She wasn’t all broken up when it finished.”
“Who broke it off?” I need both hands now, so put my phone in my front pocket.
“Honestly? I think it was mutual.”
About to lose 5G, I talk fast. “Did she ever mention getting back together?”
“No… but that’s not the kind of thing she’d tell me. I could ask my sisters, then get back to you.”
“Please do. One more thing? Any idea why her friend Andrea decided to go home early?”
“To be honest, I… imagine why she agreed to… in the first place. Andee despises… outdoorsy.”
Hoping not to lose him, I keep my feet planted. “Did you share all this with Officer Griffin?”
“Yeah. And more.”
“Do me a favor.” I rattle off Hunt’s number. “Call the FBI’s Burlington office. Scott Hunter will be heading up her rescue from here on out.”
After I hang up, I up my pace. If her brother’s right, she’s in deep shit.
Time’s running out.
Chapter 10
Briana
Present day
I count the marks on my stick. I can’t believe I’ve been on the run for almost a week. Today, I will make it to the parking lot. No more waiting for a rescue. Warmer days mean the forest will be full of unsuspecting hikers, including kids. This stops now.
As the sun sets, I pee. Then, I climb the same tree with an inviting ‘V’ that I’ve used for the last three nights. So far, Mr. Mumbles hasn’t looked up, an odd mistake for a man so determined to find me.
Wedging myself in, I lace a couple of branches. Cradled in the human sized basket, I force myself to stay awake.
Below me, Jimmy from high school rides a zebra. This new hallucination includes elephants, a circus clown, and a lemonade stand. Clearly, I need a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
Sometime in the inky black night, Gollum sounds nearby, “Not right, not right, not right.”
