Scene of the Climb (17 page)

“How do you know this is Dave's?” Matt asked, taking the hat from my hands and examining it carefully. “This could belong to anyone.”

“It's Dave's,” I assured him. “He wore it everywhere—at the restaurant that first night I met him. Most people don't wear hats inside Shared Table. Plus, he mentioned he lost it the other day. I haven't seen him wearing it since . . .” My brain replayed the meet and greet and our last meetings at the office. “I haven't seen him wear it since Lenny died!”

Matt turned the floppy hat inside out and read the label. “I think you're right. Look at this.”

It read, “Made in Byron Bay, Australia.”

“Told you.” I punched him in the arm.

“What are you, five?” Matt bantered with a grin.

“Better question, what do you think we should do with it?”

“Well, we've already touched it, so I guess we take it with us and you call Sheriff Daniels and tell him as soon as we get back.”

“I know, real evidence,” I said, grabbing the hat. “I don't get it, though. Dave's been vocal about losing his hat. If he thought it incriminated him in any way, why would he go around announcing he'd lost it?”

I crushed the hat in my hands. Upon releasing it, it popped back into its original form. The tag claimed it was a best seller in Australia, made of durable waterproof canvas with a coiled spring wire fitted inside the brim. I wrapped the dusty cotton chin cord around my finger and thought.

Matt peeled back vines and craned his neck. “Yeah, and what's a hat doing on an offshoot trail at least a half mile below the site of the murder?”

“Well, we know Dave's in financial trouble. What if he came out here to meet Lenny? Maybe I saw him. He and Lenny got in an argument and the hat came off in the fight?”

Matt looked skeptical. “Why would he come all the way out here to meet Lenny?”

“Let's say Lenny found out Dave was broke. Maybe he threatened to go public?”

“You could have something there,” Matt said, rubbing his chin. “Lenny discovers Dave's in too deep. Dave follows him out here and threatens him. But that still leaves the issue of Lenny getting pushed off the summit. We're nowhere near there,” Matt said, motioning in the direction of the main trail.

“Yeah, and I saw Dave. I don't think he could have pushed Lenny. He was right there when I fell. I looked away for a split second.”

Matt tilted his head to one side and paused. “Well—I suppose it's plausible he could have given Lenny a quick shove when your attention was focused on the fall. It wouldn't take long.”

A thought spiraled through my head. “Do you think this trail connects with the main one? Could Dave have raced here to beat Lenny to the summit?”

My words were coming out rapidly. I heard myself smashing them together. “What if . . . what if Dave planned the whole thing? Think about it. He freaked out he didn't have the cash to finish the show and scrambled to find new venture capital. He'd invested his entire life into Race the States. Would that warrant murder? If he believed Lenny was going to tell everyone his secret?”

“I don't know.” Matt shrugged. “Sadly, people kill for less.”

We both stood there, pondering our next move. I had no idea how long we'd walked along the deer trail. My body was spent. I was covered in sweat and my cheeks were burning. I wanted to turn back, but I also was dying to see whether the trail looped upward and connected to the main trail.

“What about this trail?” I asked, pointing to the twisting tracks leading deeper into the middle of the woods. “Do you think there's a way it connects higher up?”

“It could.” Matt turned in the direction of the main path. “There are tons of trails like this used by animals. I think we should head back now.”

It took us fifteen minutes to return to the main trail. I'm sure an experienced hiker could have done it in five. Not me. The dark sense of foreboding eased in my body as sunlight began to pour in through the trees. I could hear other hikers not far above us, laughing.

What did I know? Andrew had followed me and tried to run me off the road last night. Was it a warning or was he trying to kill me? Dave had been hiding on the deer trail the day Lenny had been murdered. I had one solid piece of evidence: a hat. As much as I'd rather hoof it to the parking lot, I had to reach the summit.

“You have time to continue on to the top?” I asked Matt once we made it back to the main trail.

Matt checked his watch. “Sure. We're not far off, are we?”

To tell the truth, that day was such a blur I couldn't remember if we were five minutes or five hours from the summit. I looked and noticed the tree line was thinning ahead. We must be close. Around the next bend the rocky field leading to the summit exposed itself. I swallowed hard. This was the worst part of the climb by far.

“Ah! We're close.” Matt's voice was laced with enthusiasm.

I didn't respond. The voice in my head quaked—
turn around
.

The jagged granite and basalt formations looked completely different drenched in midmorning sunlight and free from the drama of Race the States contestants. I clawed my way over the rocks, digging my nails in wherever possible. A dark layer of dirt spread underneath my fingernails. The weight of my pack was light, but the weight of the week's events bore down on me. I had to make it to the summit. Maybe I should fling my pack over. Gam would call that an energy cleanse.

Matt reached the narrow ledge of the summit first. He waved casually and watched as I inched along the face of the rock.

“You want a hand?”

“No, I'm good.”

He turned his body to the east. “Dang! It's been a long time since I've seen a day this clear. You've got to come check out this view. It's spectacular.”

“Fat chance,” I muttered under my breath.

My legs shook. I tried to overextend my knees in an attempt to control the involuntary shaking. I'd made it to the exact spot where I'd fallen.

Noticing my quivering wooden legs, Matt gave me a look of concern and hopped to where I stood. He wrapped his arm through mine. “This is the spot, I take it?”

I couldn't form words with my mouth. “Mmm-hmm.”

“Should we turn around?” Matt tried to keep the worry from his voice, but squeezed tighter on my arm.

“No, I've got this.” I leaned forward a couple inches to see over the rock blocking my view.

The cliff dropped off. Looking straight out from this vantage point gave me the false perspective that I could swan dive straight into the Columbia River 1,500 feet below. I shuddered. In actuality the massive boulders where Lenny fell scattered about 50 to 100 feet below. Would there be any sign of his death or had the Crag Rats and this week's rain washed away all evidence of his demise?

“Can you see anything down there?” I asked Matt.

“No.” Grabbing his binoculars he said, “Wait here. I'm going to climb to the top of that rock to get a better view.” He pointed to a ten-foot boulder.

Waves of nausea and déjà vu swam through my body. I'd come this far and it didn't seem to matter. No sense of closure overcame me. If anything, I felt worse.

“Can't see anything from up here,” Matt called as he scrambled down the boulder. “There's a smaller rock here where someone could have hidden.”

Plopping next to me, he rubbed my back. “If you're up for it, there's one more thing I think we should do. But only if you're up for it.”

“Sure, I'm up for anything,” I lied.

Matt laughed and threw his hands in the air. “Seriously, Megs! Do you think I'm an idiot? I know you're not okay, but I do want you to see something.” He stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes.

The goofy expression of his made me fall over in an uncontrollable bout of the giggles. I couldn't stop laughing. My sides ached. My cheeks hurt. I hadn't felt this good in the last three days.

“That's more like it.” Matt rose to his feet, grabbed both of our packs and flung one on each shoulder. “But that's not what I want you to see. I'll take these the rest of the way. Come with me.”

I sprang to my feet, energized by the release of laughter. As soon as my eyes were parallel with the horizon, my entire body swayed. I'd momentarily forgotten I was 1,500 feet above the river far below.

“Steady there.” Matt grabbed my arm and held me upright.

“Must have stood too fast.” I tried to cover. “Air's lighter here at the summit, right?”

Matt wrinkled his nose. “No, we're not high, and we're not at the summit.”

“What?”

“That's what I want to show you. Come on.”

I followed Matt across the narrow ledge and into the wooded dirt trail upward for a quarter of a mile. This is the path that Alicia and Leaf took to Multnomah Falls.

The route was much less traveled, with gnarly vines and thick ferns covering it. We came to a junction where the main trail veered left. Matt led us on a smaller trail. “This is Foxglove Hill.”

“Where are we going?”

“Hang on, it's not far.”

We continued on a small trail that wasn't much wider than the deer trail we'd been on earlier. We hiked over fallen logs blocking the path, which was overgrown with moss-covered tree branches. I wondered how Alicia and Leaf had managed this stretch sprinting, or if they'd stayed on the main path.

We appeared to be winding our way deeper into the forest. A boggy stretch of wild salmonberry bushes overtook the path. We trampled over them. Leaf would be pissed.

Coming to another junction Matt pointed to a wooden sign reading DEVIL'S REST.

After a quick steep climb, we were completely boxed in by creepy spider trees with moss-covered trunks.

“This is Devil's Rest?” I asked.

“Nope. Trust me. We're close.”

“I thought Angel's and Devil's Rest were the same trail.”

“Nope.” Matt turned around to make sure I was close enough to hear him. “As you can tell, this is a much quieter trail. Amazing views. You can see all the Washington Mountains from the top.”

A small forest service sign marked the west end of Devil's Rest trail. We followed the trail down a steep bank to the east and to a spur trail. Where in the world was Matt taking me? And did he know how to get back?

Coming to a stop by a small clearing, Matt said, “This is it.”

He dropped our packs on the trail and bent over. Huge evergreen trees colliding with low-lying ferns blocked the view of the river, but a section of them seemed to be hollowed out.

He pulled me with him into what reminded me of a rabbit hole.

The clearing revealed a stunning view of the river, Mount St. Helens, Mount Adams, Mount Rainier in the distance and a glimpse of the rocky summit we'd been sitting on twenty minutes ago.

“Check out these views.” Matt motioned his hand outward then pointed to the heavily wooded forest. “Devil's Rest is another half mile or so straight up.”

He explained that day hikers opt to trek to the rocky formation known as Angel's Rest. But Devil's Rest is the summit of record. The trail connects with Latourell, Multnomah Horsetail Falls then loops around to Angel's Rest and continues to the parking lot at the trailhead.

This made for the perfect hiding spot.

From here the killer had the vantage point of seeing Lenny reach Angel's Rest. It would have been a sprint to push him over the ledge, but possible.

Definitely possible if the other contestants had already continued on to Multnomah Falls. Unless you were specifically heading for this little lookout point, it would be easy to miss, especially at the rate they must have been running.

Could Dave or Andrew have hidden here? Lying in wait for the ideal moment to send Lenny sailing to his death? What about Alicia? Is this how her arms got scratched? Or Leaf? He's from Oregon. He probably knew about Devil's Rest.

Devil's Rest. The name sent a shiver up my spine. I didn't believe in the Devil. Nor did Gam, but the irony of its sinister name wasn't lost on me.

After an hour and a half of lagging my way to the parking lot with Matt, we made the return drive to Portland in near silence. Deep in thought, I barely noticed as we flew past the spot where Andrew ran me off the road last night. Finding Dave's hat and discovering the secret summit at Devil's Rest had to fit together somehow.

Before I knew it, the familiar sight of Portland's cityscape and bridges came into view. I looked in surprise as Matt steered the car into his complex. “We're here already?”

He gave me a knowing look. “You've been lost in thought. What are you plotting?”

“Nothing.”

Raising an eyebrow, he said, “Yeah right.” He pulled the keys out of the ignition. “Don't go chasing after Dave. You're taking that hat to the sheriff, right?”

Flashing both my thumbs, I said, “Right. You got it. Thanks for tagging along. See you later.”

I scooted off to my Subaru with Dave's hat hidden in my backpack before Matt could say anything else.

I'd formulated a plan. I needed to run to the office and pick up a copy of the schedule to find out what the contestants were doing this afternoon. Then I'd go hunt Dave down and confront him about the hat.

The short drive to
Northwest Extreme
went by without notice. I slid into an open space in the empty lot without memory of how I'd arrived. Gam calls this a state of waking meditation. I call it dangerous.

As I stepped out of the Subaru, I heard a screeching sound.

The white rental van came tearing into the parking lot. It took a corner too hard and tilted onto two wheels. I braced myself for impact, shutting my eyes. Nothing happened.

I peeked through my right eye, leaning on the hood of my car. The van bounced on all four wheels and skidded to a stop an inch in front of me. Tire tracks traced its route from the street, and the smell of burning rubber hung in the air.

What the hell?

A pristine white circle glared in the middle of the dirty van. The Race the States logo was missing.

Krissy jumped out of the driver's seat and raced over to me.

She clenched all of her fingernails between her teeth and dug her thumbnails into her chin. “I'm sorry! Are you all right?”

“I'm awake,” I said, ruffling my hair with my fingertips. “I was jonesing for an afternoon coffee, but I don't think I need one now. What happened?”

“Whew,” Krissy said, removing her fingers from her mouth and wringing them together. “I didn't think I was going to be able to stop in time.”

“Me neither.”

“I don't know what happened. All of a sudden the gas pedal stuck. I couldn't get the brake to push. Finally I grabbed the emergency brake.”

Loose hairs spilled from her normally coifed ponytail. Her striped pale blue and lemon yellow broadcloth shirt had come untucked. Her glasses were askew.

“Crazy. That was close.”

“I know. I'm so sorry.”

“What are you doing here on a Saturday anyway?”

“I'm going over details for the finale with Greg.”

“Have you been driving the van the entire time?”

“Pretty much,” she said, re-positioning her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“Are you sure no else has had access to the van?”

She looked at me quizzically. “Why?”

“Maybe someone tampered with it?”

“Why would they do that?”

“Well, you know with what happened to Lenny. There's a killer walking around. What if the killer left evidence in the van or something? You're sure no one else has driven the van?”

Krissy tucked her subtly hemmed cotton shirt into her skirt and pleated it in front with her hands. Straightening her skirt had the same effect on her body. She stood with her shoulders erect.

“Well, I did loan the keys to Dave last night. He said he wanted to run a few errands.”

“What about Andrew?”

“No, Andrew hasn't driven it.”

“You're sure?”

“What's the deal? Do you know something I don't? The van's registered under my name. That means I'm responsible for it. I'm not about to let everyone run around town with it.”

“No.” I quickly changed the direction of the conversation. “I think I'm freaked out, you know? This whole situation with Lenny has me rattled.”

Krissy's lips pursed. She reached out and put an arm on my hand. Through clenched teeth she said, “Don't you give Lenny a thought. He wouldn't have given you one.”

“Probably not.” I shrugged.

“That man cared about one person and one alone—himself. Plus, he was a buffoon—I doubt anyone tried to kill him. He probably fell backward trying to pose with flexed biceps. You heading in?”

I followed Krissy into the office. She was right. Lenny had acted like a self-consumed ass in the brief interactions I'd had with him.

“Ah, I see Greg beat me here.” She turned and made a beeline for Greg's office. “Take it easy.”

I left Krissy cooing over Greg and headed straight for my desk. The message light on my phone wasn't lit, but I picked up the handset and listened anyway. No new messages. At least that was a minor celebration. Hopefully whoever had left the message and chased me had decided I didn't know enough to be worth the energy.

I sat down to collect my thoughts. I missed Pops. He'd know what to do. I tried to keep the memory of that fateful day in the deep recesses of my brain. Gam called it denial. I called it self-preservation. I could hear her voice in my head, urging me to mine my memory—to allow the pain and tears to push to the surface. I did that once. I couldn't do it again. Not yet. It was much easier to live in denial, telling myself Pops was on an extended vacation. He'd be home soon.

Forget what Matt said. I had to confront Dave. If I could corner him and catch him off guard, I'd be able to tell if he was lying. This time I wasn't taking any chances. I picked up the phone and punched in Sheriff Daniels' number.

“Daniels here.”

“Sorry to bug you again, Sheriff, but I have an important piece of evidence for you. My friend and I just happened to hike Angel's Rest this morning and I found Dave's hat on a deer trail. I'm not sure what I should do with it.”

Sheriff Daniels cleared his throat. “Ms. Reed, what part of ‘Stay out of my investigation' did you not understand? You and your friend ‘just happened' to hike my crime scene?”

“Well, it wasn't closed off.”

“Young lady, you know very well that's not what I mean.”

Maybe calling Sheriff Daniels wasn't the best idea.

“Now, Ms. Reed, I want you to bring that hat down to the station and stop meddling with my investigation. Is that clear?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

Sheriff Daniels' voice became softer. “The last thing I need is another body on my hands. I've got my deputy questioning Andrew as we speak about what he was doing at the falls last night. I need you to leave this case to me and my team.”

“I understand.”

After hanging up with Sheriff Daniels, I found the updated schedule and scanned it to see what, if anything, he had on the docket for the evening. Nothing for Dave on the schedule. Or for me, for that matter.

Grabbing Dave's hat and leaving my desk untouched, I headed for Greg's office. I could see through the glass that Krissy had unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt and hiked her skirt well above the knee. She sat with her legs crossed and her toe pointed. Her calves were a delicate balance of muscle tone and femininity. A fact she made clear by flexing and pointing her crossed leg.

Greg positioned his chair from behind his desk right next to Krissy. They laughed like old chums as I poked my head in through the glass doors.

“Sorry to interrupt, but do either of you happen to know where Dave might be?”

“Didn't know you were here.” Greg waved hello over his shoulder. “Last I heard, he was off to climb. Not sure where. You know, Krissy?”

Krissy's tone was cool as she snapped her head around. She'd removed her glasses. Her steel blue eyes looked fresh and twice their size without her glasses. “He went to an indoor climbing gym, downtown somewhere.” She turned to Greg. “I needed him out of my hair, if you know what I mean. I can't get anything done with him underfoot.” She smiled coyly and laughed. “Bosses. What are you going to do?”

Her laugh—almost a cackle—reminded me of Mother's.

Greg winked and pointed at me. “That's what this one says about me. Right, Meg?”

“No, no, never,” I stammered.

Krissy narrowed her eyes as if to say, “Leave us alone.” I offered my thanks and made a quick exit. I could have sworn Krissy made a reference to me being childish as I backed out the door.

“Meg,” Greg called.

Oh God, what did I have on my face now? “Yeah?” I winced.

“I need your rough draft. As in—now!”

“I know. I'm totally on it.”

I wasn't. I was behind and had no idea where I was going with the feature. How was I wasting this opportunity? Not only did I need to get writing, but I also needed to sign up for an outdoor training class if I had any hopes of keeping this gig.

Pops said his best writing happened when he wasn't writing. So what better distraction than working on a murder case to help inspire my writing? I'd go find Dave and confront him about Race the States and his hat. Sheriff Daniels knew everything, so there was little risk of Dave lashing out at me.

Tracking Dave shouldn't be too difficult. There were only a handful of climbing gyms in the area and only two downtown. I pulled up both downtown locations in my phone and opted to start with The Wall. It was a ten-minute drive from headquarters. Plenty of time to take a quick spin through the gym and finish my rough draft.

The Wall reeked of chalk and old sweat. A scrawny high-school kid manning the reception desk eyed me when I walked in. “You here for the newbie class?”

“I'm looking for an Australian guy. His name is Dave. He's about six feet, graying hair, beard. Talks in a deep Aussie accent. Have you seen him?”

“Nope.” The kid pointed to the clock on the wall. It was made from carabiners and climbing rope. “The newbie class started fifteen minutes ago. They're the only ones in the gym.”

“Thanks anyway.” I turned to leave.

“You should come and check out the newbie climb. It's a killer.”

I offered him an appreciative nod, knowing there was no way I'd come climb for entertainment.

The other downtown location was called The Ledge. It opened six months ago.
Northwest Extreme
covered the grand opening. One of the laminated magazine covers in Greg's office was a spread of the bash.

The Ledge smelled new. There was a faint scent of coconut in the air coming from the tanning salon next door. Neon green signs plastered the walls with information on classes and gym member records.

A forty-something hard-bodied woman in tight black spandex and yellow climbing shoes greeted me at the front desk.

“I'm looking for an Australian guy,” I repeated.

“Oh, sure. You mean Dave?” she asked.

She knew him by name?

“Yeah, is he here?”

“Yep, right there in fact.” She pointed her finger to an exposed climbing wall.

I craned my neck to see to the top where Dave was perched.

“You want to climb? It's ten bucks for an hour or fifteen for two since it's before 5:00. After 5:00 it's the regular rate.”

“I'll wait for him, thanks.”

“No problem. You can have a seat over there.” She nodded to a couple of egg-shaped chairs in the lobby.

“One question,” I asked hesitantly. “Do you know Dave?”

“Nah, not really. He's been here a bunch the last week. Competitive that one. Tries to break his time, using new holds.” She chewed on a pencil and leafed through a scheduling book on the desk. That gave me an idea.

“Has he been here every day this week?”

“Uh, I'm not sure. Maybe.”

“Do you know if he was here last night by chance?”

She took the pencil out of her mouth and looked quizzically at me. “Why do you want to know?”

I'd come on too strong. My mind raced for an excuse. “I'm trying to plan a surprise party for him.” I surprised myself with this easy lie. “I can't seem to figure out his schedule. I was wondering if he's here around this time? That might be a good way to get him to the party.” I grinned with an innocent smile.

Nodding, she flipped through the scheduling book. “Looks like he was here from 6:00 until about 8:00 last night.”

“Great. Thanks so much,” I said as I moved to have a seat in the cushion-filled egg chair.

Dave couldn't have been the one in the van last night if he was here. Unless he left early?

I slunk in the chair in order to watch Dave swing expertly down the wall. From this vantage point he looked like he could be in his early thirties. His well-defined calf muscles pushed off the wall as he sat in the harness and glided to the ground.

Catching sight of me, he waved as he unhooked his gear. What was I going to say? I should have thought this out more.

I took a quick breath in as he ambled over to me. He stopped to flirt with the receptionist.

“Hey, hey, Meggie. Whatcha doin' here? Ya wanna scramble up the wall? I'll get ya hooked up.” He stood with one foot propped at a ninety-degree angle on the chair next to me. I shifted a little, feeling trapped by the weight of his body towering over me.

“I'm not here to climb, Dave. We need to talk.” There. I'd said it.

He laughed heartily and slapped his knee. “You're a quick one, aren't ya?” Pulling the egg chair with his foot, he sat and leaned forward on both elbows, invading my personal space.

I tried to scoot my chair. It wouldn't budge, banging against the wall.

“Whatcha wanna know, Meggie? I'm all yours.”