Page 75 of Vanish From Sight
The last-known location was indicating Split Rock Falls, a place that was part of the Bouquet River and tucked out of view of the roadway. There were multiple waterfalls that drained into a natural pool at the base. In the summer months many locals could be found there swimming and cliff jumping into the ravine. It was twenty miles southeast of High Peaks, a fifty-minute drive on a good day.
What made it worse was that it was just off Route 9, the road that intersected with Route 73, the same place Luke’s body had been found, in the foothills of the Giant Mountain Wilderness.
As he got closer, Noah’s eyes darted back and forth between the phone and scanning the trees for any sign of her.
There was no Mazda abandoned at the side of the road.
Panic set in as he eased off the gas, swerved off to the edge and got out. In the eerie silence of the forest, every creak of a branch sounded like a gunshot. He hurried to the edge of the slope, staying behind the steel barrier that was strung along the side of the road in sections. Noah called out her name, his voice echoing through the trees. With the phone in hand, he could see he was almost upon her.
Had someone just tossed the phone out as they passed by?
He took out a flashlight and inspected the road, searching for skid marks, anything that might indicate she had left the road.
That’s when he saw it.
It wasn’t on the ground but there was a collection of branches, snapped, pushed back toward the falls. As he got closer, the rushing water grew louder and more intense. The sound of it drowned out all the other noises, its roar almost like a low rumble that increased as he got closer.
He followed the wide gap in the trees, and a trail of broken branches leading deeper into the darkness. Then his heart dropped into his stomach as he saw the wrecked Mazda partially submerged in water. His mind raced as he tried to think of a way to get down the treacherous forty-five feet that went over a double drop with additional separate eight-foot ledges downstream.
It was precarious even in the day but now far more dangerous.
Noah got on the phone to County to call for police backup and an ambulance. Not wasting any time, unable to just stand there wondering what the outcome would be, he took a deep breath, stared into the abyss and started to make his descent, pitching sideways down the slope. He lost his footing a few times and small rocks tumbled out beneath his feet.
Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he carefully madehis way toward the unknown. He slipped, landing hard and sliding a good ten feet before he managed to catch a branch and slow his descent. Out of breath, he took a second or two then continued until he made it to the bottom and worked his way through the water to the vehicle.
All the while, he kept saying, “Don’t let her be in there, don’t let her be in there.”
The cold water numbed his fingers as he lowered himself down and shone the light through the back window that was barely above the surface.
His stomach sank.
His fears were confirmed when he saw Lena’s lifeless body in the driver’s seat.
Panic set in as he used a rock to smash the driver’s side window, his mind tumbled with questions. How long had she been in? How did she end up there? Had she been alive after the crash? Why hadn’t she called him?
Utterly crushed, he reached in, cut the belt around her and pulled her out, dragging her limp body to the riverbank. Though he could tell she was gone, that didn’t stop him from foolishly trying to perform life-saving CPR even as the sound of sirens in the distance reached his ears.
He wasn’t sure why he continued to pump her chest.
“Come on. Come on. Don’t you do this. Don’t you leave!”
His words echoed even as the rescue team arrived, their faces solemn with the knowledge that deep down it was too late. Lena was gone.
“Noah. Noah,” one of them said.
He backed away, numb, cold, and in shock.
As the team took over and he sat on a boulder with an emergency blanket wrapped around him, his heart was broken and full of endless questions.
CHAPTER 21
Tuesday, November 22, 4:55 p.m.
Extracting truth was an art form, at least according to McKenzie.
On the journey up to the Academy, he’d wanted to make it clear that he was to do the talking and her job was to observe, evaluate and take notes. Nothing had changed. It was the same old boys’ club mentality she’d experienced the moment she put the uniform on. It was as if they were intimidated but not enough to have her stay behind. Oh, she saw it for what it was — a power trip — a stand back and watch how it’s done kind of deal.
“It’s a fine balancing act, Thorne. We often only get one shot before these idiots’ lawyer up. No offense but I’ve been at this so long, I know how to read a room long before they even open their traps. So, leave the talking to me.”
