“You’re sure you’re up to this?” he asked his wife.
She nodded. “I’ll be fine.” She glanced at Sarah. “I want to do my part.”
Jerald led the way behind his home. The steps carved from the cliffs would have made the going easier had they not been covered with a fresh blanket of snow.
Lynda’s descent was closely monitored by her husband. Sarah’s instincts hummed but she was torn. Part of her wanted to watch every move Pope made. But the other part of her, the part that wasn’t so certain, kept dragging her attention back to his wife. Lynda looked physically fit. Why would she not be up to this?
As they reached the shore, Jerald surveyed left then right. “If we split up, we can work faster. I’ll take this side.” He pointed left. “Sarah, why don’t you and Lynda take that direction?”
“How far do we go?” Sarah didn’t know the area well enough to comprehend the division of territory. Right now, focusing on the search was top priority. She could analyze the Popes an hour from now.
“About two miles.” Jerald looked to Lynda. “To the Point. Sam Drake’s team is taking the sector beyond that as well as the loop that circles the woods.”
“We’ll meet you back here,” Lynda assured him.
Jerald glanced back once as he headed left.
Sarah had to restrain the need to run after him. Was letting him out of her sight a mistake? There was no legitimate reason to jump to conclusions.
“There are two caves on our side,” Lynda explained as she ushered Sarah to the right. “The Point he mentioned is the parking area where those who live on the islands”—she indicated the four small islands thatdotted the inlet—“leave their vehicles to travel by boat out to whichever one they own.”
Sarah nodded, forced herself to focus. She had her flashlight in her bag. She was sure Lynda had one in her bag as well, since the chief had gone over the list of items each team needed to ensure they carried.
The walk along the rocky shore was rough going. The snow had melted enough to be treacherous between the rocks since the temperature hovered around thirty-eight degrees. They were very lucky the storm hadn’t brought colder air or the search efforts would be exceedingly limited.
Sarah kept thinking how devastated Conner’s family was. And of Polly’s bubbly spirit. If she was out here—Sarah surveyed the foggy shoreline—she would be scared, possibly injured.
Polly would die ... just like the others ... if she wasn’t found.
Fast.
Sarah didn’t want that to happen. An unfamiliar ache rose in her chest. She had to figure this out.
Damned fast.
“The first cave is over here.” Lynda pointed to the cliffs. “Access is limited to the first twenty or so feet.” She glanced at Sarah. “It’s pretty cramped in there.”
“Do you want me to go first?”
Lynda shook her head. “I can go first.”
As they reached the mouth of the cave, the icy water stood in their path. Only a few inches deep, but without boots, that frigid cold was going to suck.
Lynda, realizing the same, glanced at Sarah’s Converses. “I think maybe you should stay out here.”
“What size do you wear?” Sarah glanced at her waterproof snow boots.
“Seven, but—”
“I wear an eight, but sometimes a seven works.” Sarah sat on the closest boulder. “Let me give it a try.”
“Eight’s Jerri Lynn’s size.” Lynda tugged off a boot. “Occasionally we can wear the same shoe.” She pulled the second one free. “In fact, we both have these boots, and sometimes we get them mixed up.”
With effort, Sarah pulled the boots on. Snug, but bearable. “This’ll work. You stay here and I’ll check it out.”
“It’s been a long time, but I’ve been in there before,” Lynda argued.
“No offense,” Sarah insisted, “but your husband seemed worried about you out here. Let me do this. I’m experienced at this sort of thing.”
