Page 59 of Mountain Struggle

“Take your time, Kat,” Damien said.

From across the room, he caught Drake’s eye. The man’s jaw was clenched tight.

“What do you have, Drake?”

“Nothing, so far. There are too many cases. We need to narrow it down.”

Five hours later, the pile of cases to look at in more detail had grown substantially larger.

Kat tugged on her ponytail. “These are all the cases involving women or children,” she said, swallowing hard. “In all cases there was a husband or father left behind.”

Damien rubbed his hair. He needed to get home to Jamie and Tess, but didn’t want to leave it like this, with no hope for resolution. Suddenly, he had an idea. “How many of these rescues involved local victims?”

“Local victims?” Hiro asked. At his feet, Bailey snoozed.

“The car had a local license plate. The kidnapper could have rented it or stolen it, but let’s work on the assumption that it’s his. That means he’s from here—in which case we could ignore all rescues involving visitors and tourists.”

Hiro picked up the pile and sat down on the floor. Bailey’s eyes followed him for a moment, then closed again. “Okay. It’s worth a shot.” He opened one file after another, this time focusing only on the victim’s address. He went through the pile mechanically, and after ten minutes had narrowed it down to nine cases.

“It might be one of these. All local cases—in all cases the victims were women or children.” He swallowed hard. “In all cases, there was at least one person we didn’t save.”

“Take me through them, Hiro, please.” Damien looked around the room at Kat, Gael and Drake. “Maybe you should go take a walk.”

“We’re not going anywhere, Damien,” Drake growled. They all moved closer.

Hiro straightened his back against the wall. He picked up the first file carefully and respectfully in both hands. “June five years ago,” he began. “There was a fire in a campsite. Another camper called for help on his mobile phone, but by the time the firefighters arrived, the tent was destroyed. A mother and her two young sons died.”

“I remember that night,” Damien said. His hands clenched into a tight fist. “There wasn’t much we could do except keep onlookers away and wait for the doctor to certify the death.”

“Was the father there?” Kat asked.

“I don’t remember a father.”

Hiro leafed through the rest of the file. “No mention of a father here.”

“An entire family died that night …” Damien felt himself waver and held on to the table for support. He always hated losing anyone, but ever since he’d become a father, the thought of a child dying affected him more than he could say.

“We need to find out if there’s a father, and where he lives now,” Damien said.

Hiro set the file down carefully on the floor next to him and picked up the next one. “A helicopter crash. A family of four killed, along with the pilot.”

Damien shook his head. “We recovered the aircraft, but there was nothing we could do for the people inside. They all died on impact.”

“We need to look for something more personal,” Gael said, baring his teeth. “A rescue you were involved in, jefe.”

Hiro nodded and looked to the next file. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down for a moment, and Damien wasn’t sure he wanted to hear about this one. “March five years ago—a young boy lost in the mountains. The search went on for days, but the boy was dead by the time we found him.”

Damien nodded. He remembered the case well. The helicopter had found a jacket but it wasn’t the right color, so they’d ignored it in the first passes. It was only later that they’d gone back, and realized the jacket was inside out—it was the orange lining that they were seeing from the helicopter. They began to search that area in earnest, but by then it was too late.

Damien steeled himself against the onslaught of guilt. They’d all suffered from it. Even now, years later, it was easy to go back to that moment in time, and feel the pain anew. They’d all been exhausted—and to find the child, dead from exposure, had been one of the single worst moments of his life. One that had threatened to break him, as well as other members of the team.

“We need to speak to his parents,” he said, making a note.

“I’m sorry. I need to stretch my legs before we continue,” Kat said, walking out of the room. They all chose to ignore the fact that her eyes were full of tears.

“We all need a break,” Gael said. He offered Hiro his palm and helped the other man stand.

“I’ll get an officer to check up on these families,” Hiro said, holding on to the files they’d singled out.