Page 74 of My Sister is Going to Kill Me

“No.”

“Any indication of how she died?”

“No. You’ll need to send someone down.”

Big Pete’s answers were coming out faster now, as if obfuscation was easier once he’d committed to this course. He hadn’t lied exactly, but he was leaving out a boatload of information.

Like the hiking guide. Liv wondered again what had happened to Marc. Had he headed up to the rim, as Big Pete suggested? Was he missing? Hurt? Was it possible Guy was lying about when Marc had separated from him and Babette?

The radio coughed, and Liv prayed it would press Big Pete for more information about the dead woman. But the box had other priorities. “Where are you now?”

“We came back down to the beach to make camp before dark.”

“You can’t camp at those falls.”

Charlie looked up, hopeful. Maybe they’d go back up to Babette’s Throne Room after all.

Then the box shouted again. “You’ll have to cross the river.”

“What?” Charlie said. “But she—”

Big Pete cut him off. “I know the rules,” he said into the box. “Just wanted to call you first. As per protocol.”

There was a long staticky pause from the box, and Big Pete flashed a glance at the group on the beach. Much to Liv’s annoyance, her dad nodded approvingly.

“Here’s the thing,” the box shouted.

Another pause. Now it really did look like Charlie might take a running leap for the boat, current be damned.

“There was a rock slide this morning below Lava Falls, near Hell’s Hollow. All emergency personnel have been deployed to that site, and both our copters are fully engaged. Until we know the extent of the damage and injuries, I can’t divert resources for a nonemergency situation.”

“What about the body?” Big Pete asked. “If you can’t send someone, it could get . . .”

Disturbed. Degraded. Eaten. Everything Liv could think of meant more indignity for Babette and her family, and less chance of the park police—or anyone else—ever finding out what really happened to her.

The box had other priorities. “You have provisions to stay in the area another day?”

“Yes.”

“Cross the river and make camp,” it yelled. “Keep this radio on. We will be in touch by noon tomorrow with an ETA on getting someone out to you. If you don’t hear from us by then, reach out.”

The box snapped silent. Still, Big Pete stared at it for a spell, as if it might yet provide him a magic solution he could offer the rest of the group.

Then he rose and stood on the edge of the supply boat, facing them. Everyone had inched forward during the radio drama, and they were all clustered there, a pack of scared, tired, angry sheep. Liv was surprised to notice she was clutching Mandy’s hand.

“Well,” Big Pete said. It was as if he didn’t want to come back down to the beach. “Suppose you heard all that.”

“You did well,” Guy said.

PK shot him an angry look. “Not well enough. No one is coming to help her.”

“Or us,” Fiona added.

“I want to go back to her,” PK said.

“I want to go home,” Imogen said. It was a quiet admission, perhaps the most radically honest thing she’d said yet.

Lucinda patted Imogen’s arm. The older woman looked exhausted, worn through by the intensity of the day.