Chapter 37

Aiden shivered and rubbed his arms. He’d lived in Colorado for months. You’d think he’d know better by now. He should’ve worn a warmer coat.

Springtime in the Rockies wasn’t balmy. Fresh snow capped the nearby mountains, and there was a definite chill in the early morning air. The sun had just risen over the mountains, and the pinks and yellows of dawn’s early morning light softened the looming shapes of the trees.

The second he’d learned Amanda had been found on a park trail, his gut pinged. If the same perp who abducted Amanda also took Candace, Candace was being held somewhere in the vast park. He just had to find her. The sooner the better. On the drive to the park, he and Joe had contacted the Parks Branch, and their contact mentioned Sam Wheeler, a retired park ranger.

Sam had agreed to come right away, and ten minutes ago, he’d pulled up in his rusted, four-wheel drive, super-cab truck, spewing dark clouds of diesel into the cold mountain air. In his seventies, the former chief park ranger at Creighton Springs State Park had been retired for the past five years.

From what Aiden had been told, the man knew every inch of the vast park.

Sam leaned against his truck, his arms crossed over his narrow chest. He wore a heavy down jacket, faded jeans, worn-and-scuffed work boots, and a faded black-felt cowboy hat pulled low over his lined forehead. Thin strands of snow-white hair curled at his neck. He sported an old fashioned, white, handlebar mustache. His leathery skin and deep tan were a testament to the many years he’d spent outdoors. In spite of his wrinkles and white hair, his body was lean and tough, his stomach flat, and he looked younger than his years.

“Yep.” He nodded. “I know pretty well every inch of this park. After more’n thirty years keepin’ an eye on the place, I sure as hell should.” He turned his earnest gaze on Aiden. “Hope I can help y’all find this missing woman.” He shook his head. “It’s a damn shame what goes on in the park these days. In my day, the biggest issues we worried about were poachers and folks leaving their campfires unattended.”

A cold wind kicked up, and fingers of icy air slid down the back of Aiden’s neck. He shivered again. “Do you have any idea where someone could lay low for a few months, somewhere no one would notice them?”

Sam pushed back his hat and scratched his freckled forehead. “This here’s a mighty big park, one of the largest in the state.” His breath formed a cloud in the cold air. “I heard about that cave y’all found a week or so back.” He grimaced. “Could've knocked me over with a feather. In all my years workin’ here, I never heard a whisper about a cave in that section of the park.”

A snowflake floated past Aiden’s face. What the hell? It was March. He refocused on the retired park ranger. “Do any other places like that cave come to mind? We’re pretty sure this guy kept a girl imprisoned here in the park for months.”

More snowflakes swirled in the wind.

“Brrr!” Joe tightened his coat around his neck. “It’s as cold as a witch’s tit out here.”

Sam nodded. “That’s springtime in the Rockies…sunny and hot one minute, freezing your ass off the next.”

Joe reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled cigarette package. Sliding a cigarette out, he fished in his other pocket and grabbed a lighter. Holding up the cigarette, he pointed toward the police cruiser. “I’m just gonna grab a quick smoke. Be right back.” He hurried to the car, opened the driver’s side door, climbed inside, and slammed the door closed. The car rumbled to life, and a plume of exhaust filled the air.

“We really need your help, Sam,” Aiden urged. The clock was ticking. They had to find Candace. And soon. “You know this park better than anyone. A woman’s life is at stake. Give us something, a bear den, another cave, an old cabin, something.”

“I hear ya, Detective. Ever since I got your call, I’ve been givin’ this some thought.” He slipped off his Stetson and scratched his scalp and rocked back on his heels. “There is one place that comes to mind. It’s a stretch, mind you, but it’s the only structure I can think of.”

Aiden’s heart raced. “Tell me.”

“Years ago, when I first started work here in the park, a bunch of fellas used to ride their snow machines on the park trails. There was quite a group of ’em. Mind, that was before the regulations changed. Now there’s no snowmobiling permitted within the park boundaries. The whole darn park is a protected area. No motorized vehicles of any kind allowed off the main road.”

Patience wasn’t Aiden’s strong suit, but some informants just couldn’t be rushed.

Sam coughed, a deep raspy sound. “Those snowmobile fellas wanted to build a warmin’ hut.” He chuckled. “Can you imagine?” He shook his head. “Anyhoo, they applied for permission, but were denied. The Parks Board didn’t want any buildings erected in the park, leastwise, not without the proper permits.” He grimaced. “You know how the government works…reams and reams of paperwork even if you just want to revarnish a picnic table or change the brand of toilet paper in the outhouses.”

He set his hat on his head and reached into his coat pocket and drew out a red-checked cloth handkerchief and blew his nose. “Damn cold today. Weatherman says it’s supposed to snow a good six inches. My hip’s been acting up. It don’t take kindly to the cold and damp.” He eyed Aiden. “Don’t let anyone tell you that gettin’ old is the golden years.” He blew his nose again, inspected the contents of his handkerchief, and stuffed it back in his pocket. “Where was I?”

“The snowmobile warming hut.” Aiden gritted his teeth, wanting to wring the information out of the old man. Only a miracle stopped him.

“Ah yeah.” Sam nodded. “When they got turned down, those boys came direct to me and pled their case.” He huffed out a raspy breath. “Call me a soft touch, but I couldn’t see where there was a problem with them buildin’ a small hut, especially when they were plannin’ on doin’ all the work.”

“Where was that? What area of the park?”

“If I recollect, it was back behind Mount Redson, over by Sisters Creek.” He shifted, winced, and rubbed his hip. “I been there a few times, but that was years ago.” His mouth curled in a smile. “Those boys sure knew what they were doin’. That hut was somethin’, all right. It even had a root cellar, for Gawd’s sakes. Can you imagine? I mean, what were they thinkin’?”

Adrenaline surged through Aiden, and his heartbeat sped up a dozen beats. “Is the hut still there?”

Sam shrugged. “Don’t rightly know. When the Parks Board shut down all snowmobilin’ in the park, those boys stopped comin’ ’round, and the hut fell into disuse. The trail to the hut washed out a few years ago. Far as I know, no one goes there anymore.” He shook his head. “Funny, I almost forgot about that shack.”

“Can you show me where it is on a map?” Every cell in Aiden’s body tingled, his muscles strung tight. This was it. He knew it.

Sam opened the front door of his truck and leaned inside. He tugged out a stained, folded map from the glove compartment, opened it, and spread it on the hood of his truck.

Aiden moved closer. The wind whipped at the map, and he struggled to hold it flat.

Snowflakes spotted the paper.

Sam pointed at a spot on the map. “Hut was here. Not sure if it’s still standin’, but this is where it was.”

Yes! Aiden wanted to fist pump the air. He’d found the bastard’s lair. “Can I take this?” He folded the map and held it up.

“Sure, but it won’t do you much good.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“You can’t drive there, and like I said, the trail’s washed out.”

Aiden clenched his hands in frustration. “So how are we supposed to get in there?”

“I just called for a chopper and a SWAT team.”

Joe’s smokey breath blasted Aiden. He hadn’t heard his partner approach.

“They’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

Sam nodded. “That’s one way to get there.”

Joe looked smug. “That’s what I thought.”