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I came to a stop. From my vantage point, it didn’t appear that anyone was inside the Jeep. Though I wasn’t sure because it was hard to see through the dark, tinted windows and layer of snow.
“Will, what should we do?”
“We have to check it out.”
I shuddered. What if Paige’s body was slumped over the steering wheel? Or stuffed in the trunk?
“Will, stay in the car with Bear while I look inside it.”
“No way, Mom. We’re coming with you.”
By this point I knew there was no holding Will back. In unison, we jumped out of the SUV, Will holding Bear by his leash with one hand, the other clutching Paige’s scarf.
Scraping off some snow, we peered inside the Jeep windows. To my great relief, no one was inside. Thank God! There’s still hope. I sighed as Will squeezed the handle of the front passenger door.
“Mom, the car isn’t locked.” He swung the door open before I could utter a word. “Hold onto Bear.” Too late for me to protest, he handed me the leash and crawled inside the vehicle.
“Mom, Paige’s backpack is in here. So is her phone.”
“Will, do you see the gun anywhere?”
I watched with my heart in my throat as he searched the car.
“I can’t find it.”
My teeth chattered. That meant Tanya still had it in her possession. “Will, open the trunk. Do you know which button it is?”
“Seriously, Mom?” His eyes said “duh” as he popped it open. Holding my breath, I lifted up the hatch and then blew out the air stuck in my lungs. Paige wasn’t there. And neither was the gun. I hurried back to Will, who was now crouched down, examining the snow.
“Look, Mom! Fresh footprints.”
He pointed at them. With the snow still falling, it was hard to make them out, but he was right. There were two sets of them. The ones in front slightly wider. For sure, they belonged to Paige and Tanya (I still couldn’t think of her as Bree). Tanya was trailing my daughter, but at least I knew she was alive. Make that surmised.
You will pay for what you did.
The words swirled around my head as the snow whirled around us. Wait! Maybe Tanya was after money! I could offer her anything she wanted—even a million dollars—if she let Paige go safely. It was worth a shot.
Shivering, I removed a glove, slipped my phone out of my ski jacket, and began to text her number. Except I had no signal, be it due to the inclement weather, remote location, or both. That meant Will had no signal either. We were stuck in a dead zone! Another wave of fear hit me like an avalanche. Without cell service in this completely desolate hellhole, we could freeze to death and die!
Will cut my tumultuous thoughts short. “Mom, for sure, they’re headed toward the lake. The footprints go on for a while. And Bear went all crazy, picking up Paige’s scent.”
“Willikins, what should we do?” I hadn’t called him by his baby name in ages, but at this moment, it felt good on my tongue.
In a few words, he explained what he was thinking.
With painfully mixed thoughts of love and hate, guilt and sorrow, hope and dread, I got back into the Highlander with Will and our dog. Shifting into drive, I stepped on the gas and slowly forged ahead. Watching the snowflakes on the heated windshield melt like teardrops.
Having no wits of my own, I had to trust my genius son’s plan.
It all boiled down to a matter of life or death.
SIXTY-ONE
PAIGE
Green Valley Lake was unlike Big Bear or Lake Arrowhead. It was significantly smaller with no sign of civilization anywhere. Surrounded by towering pine trees now dressed in ghost-like white gowns, the campground was deserted, with just some snow-filled rowboats moored at the shore.
The snow bombarding us, the wind gusting, we stood face to face on the edge of a long, snow-covered dock overlooking the deep, partially frozen body of water. Less than three feet away, her back to the lake, Tanya held the gun aimed at me. With the sky darkening, she was a pink blur in a sea of white. I was beyond freezing cold, almost numb, and, with the 7,000-foot altitude, light-headed. Focus, Paige, focus! I had to stall her. Foil her. My life was at stake. At such close range, she wouldn’t miss if she took a shot. I’d be X’d like in those photos I’d found. Except permanently.
