On the opposite wall was food. So much food: gallon buckets of rice, beans, sugar, and even powdered cheese. There were plastic-wrapped cases of cans, bottles, and other packages of consumables: freeze-dried meals, tins of Spam, canned veggies, spices, and even cooking oil and margarine. Cara had been hidden away in a doomsday prepper’s pantry, which, while comforting—nutritionally speaking, anyway—was equally terrifying. There was enough food down here to feed her for the rest of her natural life.
Was she doomed to serve her life sentence here?
She saw a locked metal door set into the far wall. Was another victim locked up deeper in the hillside? Did that doorhave a door that led into yet another cell? Who knew how many women Fisk had lured down here.
From a bin markedTOOLS, Cara removed the hammer, wrench, saw, and pliers. She placed them strategically: the hammer under the cot, the wrench beneath the small pillow, the saw between two bins, and the pliers on top of a bucket. Knowing she had weapons eased her panic, if only temporarily.
Scanning the shelves, she helped herself to a box of crackers, a jar of peanut butter, and a can of chicken-noodle soup with a metal pull tab. She needed energy for whatever came next. God help her. With no time to lose, she began to suck the cold, congealed salty broth into her mouth, chewing and swallowing carrot bits, chicken cubes, and soft noodles, trying not to gag.
She prayed, too.
But mostly ate until her belly was full.
TWENTY-ONE
JORDAN
Coyotes provide many ecosystem benefits, such as controlling rodent and other small mammal populations. They will consume nearly anything, including rodents, rabbits, birds and eggs, reptiles, fruits, and plants, as well as pet food, human food, and trash.
—California Department of Fish and Wildlife
The dim red sun was dropping toward the treetops as Jordan crossed the packed dirt in front of the trailer complex, heading toward the open door of the barn.
“It’s Sheriff Jordan Burke!” he shouted. “We need to talk!”
Fisk came around a corner carrying a shotgun in the crook of his arm.
Jordan showed his open hands. “You can put that down. Just here to ask you a few questions.”
Fisk pressed the safety with his finger and leaned the shotgun against the side of the porch, taking his time.
“Thought I heard a critter out there,” he said matter-of-factly.
“See anything?”
Fisk shook his head. “A few days ago, I found coyote scat with wool in it.”
“You need a license, even to shoot coyotes.”
“Not if they’re threatening my livestock.”
Jordan didn’t want to get into it with him. The fact that he had heard an animal and not found one was more urgent.
“Have you seen any people up here?” he asked. “Anyone you don’t know?”
“Well, I recognize you, but I wouldn’t say weknowone another.” Fisk appeared to think about it, then shook his head. “Couple of kids on dirt bikes last week, but that’s about it.”
Jordan nodded at the shotgun. “You scare them off with that?”
“What do you think?”
“I think an escaped convict came through here. A blond woman in civilian clothes. She’s originally from LA, but now she’s been on the run for twenty-four hours and could be getting desperate.”
Fisk’s mouth curled in a smirk. “What, desperate for a latte?”
“Desperate enough to throw herself into the rapids to get away from me. Her name’s Cara Campbell. She’s an Instagram influencer convicted of murdering her husband, so we consider her dangerous, although we don’t believe she is armed. I’m asking you point-blank: have you seen her on your property?”
Fisk kicked the dirt, spat in it, and laughed. “I do believe she was on the arm of Brad Pitt.”
