Began to see where the doc was going with this line of argument. “Sore. Beat up after the accident. The way her head smacked the road, she probably had a killer headache and stiff neck when she came to.” I paused. “Just like somebody would who’s coming down with the flu.” Hope flared, then dimmed. “But she’d know that the pain—the headache—was caused by the accident.”
“Not necessarily.” Sahdev shook his head. “Accident victims often have no memory of the event that caused their injuries. It’s a form of post-traumatic amnesia. The brain protects itself from a distressing memory. It’s entirely possible that Kenzie awoke in pain with no memory of the accident. She might logically conclude that she had the flu.”
“And Bill took advantage of that. Let her believe that she was dying.” My blood heated and my hands twitched. Sounds like something the bastard would do. “Encouraged her to write a goodbye letter. What’s in it for him?” Soon as I spoke the words, I knew the answer. “The horny fuck wants her for himself,” I said slowly. Wanted my Mac, and allowed a scared woman to believe she was going to die so he could hoodwink her.
He’s a dead man.
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Kyle said. “This is all guesswork. I hope to God you’re right, but I don’t want to get my hopes up on a bunch of maybes.”
“Yeah. Only one way to be sure.” I climbed down the steps, heading to the back of the cabin to dig up Mac’s grave.
“Wait, please.” Sahdev laid a hand on my arm. “Kenzie is my friend, but she’s more than that to the two of you. If our conjectures are wrong, if she’s really in the ground, I would spare you both the sight. I’ll exhume the grave.”
Opened my mouth to argue with the doc, then shut it.
If hope was playing me dirty, I didn’t want the image of Mac’s disinterred body branded into my memory. I’d seen the face of death countless times, looked it straight in the eye, refusing to blink. Not sure I’d recover from looking at Mac’s bloated body, her frozen features bleached of all normal color, two days dead.
“Yeah. All right.”
“I won’t be long.” He strode toward the back of the cabin, heading to the spot near the tree line, just past the dock.
I dropped down on the step next to Kyle. If anybody understood the convoluted stew of emotions roiling in my gut, it was Mac’s ex.
Without a word, he reached out and squeezed my shoulder, then folded his hands and lowered his head, his lips silently moving. He was praying. Huh. Whaddaya know. Kyle was a believer. I left him in peace to plead our case to God.
Hector paced restlessly back and forth on the porch, sensing that something was wrong.
The minutes ticked by with excruciating slowness. My gaze wandered over the landscape, skimming the trees and leafy undergrowth, then lingering for a moment on Nicole’s blue sedan, parked beside the small boathouse.
She used to drive through Portland with the windows rolled down, music blaring, while she and the boys sang along to her favorite ’60s rock. That loud, fun-loving woman died with her family. Grief hollowed her out and left her an empty shell.
Would grief do that to me if Sahdev came back and said he found Mac’s body? Didn’t know, but already the prospect of losing Mac and moving on without her had sapped my vitality, leaving me flat and apathetic, my intellect and emotions out of sync.
Sahdev jogged around the corner of the cabin, his hands and face smudged with dirt. I leaped to my feet, like an accused man standing before a jury, holding my breath, waiting to hear whether I’d go free or receive a life sentence.
“The grave is empty.”
Kyle barked out a laugh, jumped to his feet, and hugged Sahdev.
I sagged and leaned my hands on my knees, letting the words sink in. Mac might be alive. The tension in my chest loosened, and I filled my lungs with air.
Straightening up, I swung my eyes toward Sahdev, then Kyle. “Wherever that fucker took her, we’re going to find Mac.”
“Damned straight.” Kyle’s jaw was tight.
“Yes, we will.” Sahdev nodded, his expression resolute.
Even Hector barked his approval.
Kyle glanced at his watch. “It’s almost five. We got a couple of hours of daylight left. I’m going to get Uncle Mel’s maps out of the jeep. I think he has one of the Mt. Hood National Forest. We need to figure out the most likely place that Pastor Bill would’ve taken Kenzie.”
“Do that.” A hundred ideas rushed through my head at the same time. “My Shovelhead’s busted to shit, so I’m gonna make sure Chimney’s bike runs. The more ground the three of us can cover, the better.”
Could drive Nicole’s car, I supposed. Saw the keys hanging on a hook in the kitchen. But whenever we found Mac and took off, I didn’t want to be behind the wheels of a sensible Japanese import.
Chimney’s green-and-black 2014 CVO Road King was a beauty. I’ll take my Shovelhead over a bagger any day, but riding any Harley was better than being caged in a four-door family sedan. Need be, Sahdev or Kyle could take Nicole’s car.
I quickly confirmed that the Road King ran just fine, then joined Kyle and Sahdev in the cabin.
Kyle had spread a map of the national forest across the coffee table, and he and Sahdev were studying it.
Sahdev looked up when I entered. “Do we have any idea how many members there are in Pastor Bill’s church? I know of the pastor, his four deacons, Nicole and that teenage girl who came to help Nicole. That makes seven.”
“Bill mentioned his wife Rebecca.” Kyle counted on his fingers. “And a couple of men who weren’t deacons stopped by the cabin to speak to the pastor. That’s at least ten.”
“Remember, he said he was responsible for thirty souls. Could have been a lie, but we should probably count on at least that number if we wanna play it safe. What are you thinking, Sahdev?”
“If the pastor has thirty members in his church, rather than having them scattered across the area, I suspect that he’d gather them together in one location. Or at the very least, that he’d create a central hub, where people could assemble for meetings and religious services.”
“Makes sense.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “Lots of places like that around here. Big ski lodges. Resorts. Campgrounds. Hotels. We’ll check ’em all until we find his headquarters.
“We’re ignoring the obvious,” Kyle said.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Pastor Bill claims that they’re all members of his congregation. What does a congregation need?” He answered his own question. “A place to worship. A church.”
I was skeptical. “You think twenty people could live at a church? Where would they sleep? Where would they eat?”
“No, man, not a church.”
He leaned forward.
“Listen, when I was a kid, my sister and I went to church camp every summer. It was on a lake in the woods so we could do outdoor stuff. Hiking. Canoeing. Swimming. The camp had a chapel. Most church camps have sleeping cabins, a big kitchen, a dining hall, and a chapel. Everything Bill would need for his little cult.”
Sahdev was already studying the map. “I see a half dozen church camps in the area. If Kyle’s correct, those would be the most likely places for the pastor to set up shop.”