He also worried that theyd find a dead body. His aversion to corpses was stronger than his fear of guns or drug smugglers.
But he had to accompany her. Had to. Because his biggest fear was that Hope would be hurt or killed on his watch. The last woman hed climbed with was dead. He couldnt handle another blow like that.
Sam was already broken, hanging on to sanity by a thread. At the slightest provocation, hed fall apart.
As Hope walked across the uneven, pebble-strewn surface of the crag, he followed close behind, his heart racing. It was ten degrees cooler at this altitude. Wind rippled through his microfiber shirt, evaporating the sweat from his body. Although hed just slaked his thirst, his throat was dry.
When the wreckage came into view, she paused. It appeared that the plane had clipped the southwest corner of the mountain and broken up across the surface. The majority of the fuselage was still intact, perched very close to the edge of the opposite cliff. A figure was slumped over in the pilots seat.
Sams stomach clenched with unease.
Although the pilot appeared to be dead, she approached with caution. Were with search-and-rescue for Sierra National Park, she called out, shading the sun from her eyes. Do you need help?
No response.
She glanced at Sam, her face tense. Motioning for Sam to stay there, she crept forward. He ignored the gesture and stuck by her.
The planes front windshield was broken. Inside the cockpit, the pilot was motionless, his head resting on the dash, gray hair fluttering in the breeze.
Can you hear me?
Nothing.
It didnt appear that any bodies had been thrown from the plane. When she was at an arms length from the broken windshield, she leaned over to peer inside. The wreckage was so close to the cliffs edge, he pictured it toppling over with one touch. He bit back a warning as she craned her neck for a better view. A black crow flew out of the cockpit with a shrill screech, wings flapping.
Sam almost had a heart attack.
Hope screamed at the top of her lungs and leaped backward, bumping into him. He stumbled sideways.
I told you to stay over there, she scolded.
Sam didnt answer. He couldnt take his gaze off the pilot. The lower half of the mans face was obliterated, and he had a second wound in the center of his chest. Blood spatter coated the interior.
This wasnt just a crash site. It was a murder scene.
CHAPTER THREE
JAVIER DEL NORTE reached the campsite at the edge of the river sometime after dawn.
He was thirsty, and hungry, and tired. His shirt had stains and his slacks were ruined. His feet were bleeding inside his Ferragamo loafers, he just knew it.
Luckily for him, Americans on vacation were a trustworthy lot. They left all sorts of clothing and supplies out in the open while camping. He didnt understand why successful people with luxury vehicles would choose to sleep on dirt or torture themselves physically in their free time, but their masochism wasnt his problem. California culture was ineffable. Hed accepted that and moved on long ago.
His main concern was getting out of this wilderness without detection. And hopefully without having to kill anyone else.
Shoving the items hed scalped into a stolen backpack, he headed toward the public restrooms to change. Near the mens entrance, he noticed a door for a utility closet. Unlocked, of course. Because tree huggers didnt steal toilet paper. He reached inside, helping himself to bleach, hydrogen peroxide and Band-Aids.
In the mens room, he studied his reflection. His once-white shirt was dotted with blood and bits of gore. Teeth fragments, perhaps. Removing it with a grimace, he tossed the garment into the sink and uncapped the hydrogen peroxide.
With heavy regret, for his jet-black hair was striking, he leaned forward and poured the bottle over his head. The liquid burned his nostrils and dripped down his chin, but he gave himself a good dousing, keeping his eyes shut tight. When he couldnt stand the sting anymore, he rinsed his hair and studied the effect.
Awful.
The rusty bronze color didnt look natural, or attractive, but it was different. With sunglasses on, he might be unrecognizable. Satisfied, he took off his pants, socks and shoes, piling them in the sink. He added bleach. While he was standing there in his boxer briefs, soaking his bloodstained clothes, another man came in to use the facilities. He was young and spot-faced, his eyes puffy. Mumbling hello, he disappeared into the first stall.
Retching sounds emanated from the confined space.
Javier shook his head in disgust. He fantasized about shooting the sick camper to put him out of his misery. There wasnt a shower at this imbecilic place, so he washed with cold tap water and patted himself dry with rough paper towels. It was impossible to eliminate every spec of evidence, so he didnt bother trying. After rinsing his wet clothes, he stuffed them in the trash can.
The pack hed stolen contained several stray clothing items. He donned a gray V-neck T-shirt and low-slung plaid shorts, lamenting the owners bad taste. The shirt was too snug and the shorts too loose, but at least they were clean. He sat down on a wooden bench to bandage the blisters on his feet.
Two more young men walked into the restroom, glancing in his direction. He froze, hoping they werent the campers hed just robbed.
Dismissing Javier, the first guy banged on the bathroom stall. Dude, pull it together. Were going to be late for the trip.
The sick man vomited again.
His friends laughed at the noise, goofing around and punching each other.
Just leave without me.
No way, dickhead! I cant get a refund if you cancel.
Ill pay you back, he groaned.
Stop being such a pussy. Were all hungover.
Its the altitude.
Youll feel better on the raft.
The man started dry-heaving, and his friends continued to ridicule him.
Javier almost felt sorry for the poor bastard. There was nothing more emasculating than puking your guts out in a public toilet. Hed done it himself, several years ago, after drowning his sorrows at Hector Gonzaless bachelor party. The next day Hector had married the woman Javier loved.
Wincing at the memory, he put on a pair of sturdy athletic socks and black canvas tennis shoes that were only half a size too large. The backpack also boasted a hat. A beanie, he believed it was called. Tugging it over his wet hair, he walked outside, bypassing the foolish young men. An area map was posted on an information board next to the restrooms. Warnings about bears and safety instructions appeared in several languages.
He studied the map, which indicated that he was at the Kaweah Campsite in Sierra National Park. Only one road led in and out of the park. Both the entrance and the exit were more than thirty miles away.
That was a problem.
Hitchhiking was common in Venezuela, where he was born, and in many of the other countries hed visited. Here in the U.S., it was rare enough to attract the attention of the authorities. He needed another mode of transportation. He could continue walking, pay for a ride or steal a car. But what if the park exits were being monitored? Law enforcement officials might know about the crash already. His boss would definitely be looking for him.
A man in Javiers profession couldnt leave behind a million dollars worth of drugsand a dead pilotwithout consequences.
A man in Javiers profession couldnt leave behind a million dollars worth of drugsand a dead pilotwithout consequences.
On the right side of the map, there was an advertisement for Kaweah Whitewater Adventures. A blue line marked Kaweah Campsite as the launch point. The tour stretched past the borders of the park, ending at Moraine Lake.
The river was another exit.
While he considered his options, the hecklers walked out of the mens room. They hadnt convinced their friend to come along. Javier gave them another quick once-over, recognizing the type. After leaving Venezuela, hed honed his English in Costa Rica, which was popular with surfers and potheads.
You guys going on the whitewater trip? Javier asked.
Yep.
Ive always wanted to try that, he said, falling into step beside them. One of the guys had short, spiky blond hair. The other had long brown hair like Jesus. Both appeared strong, probably from athletic pursuits, rather than hard labor. How do I sign up?
You have to reserve in advance.
Oh.
The longhair exchanged a shrewd glance with his buddy. We could bring you along if you have enough cash.
How much?
Four hundred. Its a three-day trip.
Javier had enough money, but he didnt want to appear overeager. He also suspected them of trying to hustle him. Who would pay so much money to get abused by a river? Ive got two fifty, he said, lowering his voice. And an ounce of weed.
That perked them up. What kind?
Chronic.
The guys smiled at each other. Lets see it.
Javier glanced around to make sure they were alone before showing his stash. Neither the pot nor the cash belonged to him, so it was no loss. The deal suited his acquaintances just fine. They became very friendly all of a sudden.
Im Caleb, the long-haired guy said. This is Ted.
Javier shook their hands. Jay Norton.
Caleb and Ted debated over smoking a bowl right then and there, but decided against it because they were already late. Javier breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to stay alert, not get stoned with a couple of pendejos.
The rafting group was supposed to meet in the camp parking lot at eight. They hurried down the dirt road as a dark green sport utility van with Kaweah Adventures printed on the side was about to pull away.
Hey, Caleb yelled, waving his arms. Wait up!
The three of them jogged to the vehicle. You just made it, the driver said. Hop in.
Javier took off his backpack and climbed inside. The backseat was occupied by two short-haired women in their forties. A cute blonde sat in the middle. There was space available beside her, or next to the driver.
Hello, he said, choosing the blonde. Im Jay.
She fluttered her lashes. Faith.
Pleasure to meet you, he said, shaking her hand.
Although he wanted to keep staring at her, because she was beautiful, he introduced himself to the women in back and nodded hello to the driver. When infiltrating a group, it was important to adopt their customs. Outdoor lovers were gregarious. They liked to hug strangers and bond with nature. He couldnt be standoffish.
Caleb and Ted struck up a lively conversation, using a lot of terms Javier didnt understand. Class Five, portage, PFDs.
He turned to the girl beside him, studying her with interest. She was wearing long shorts, a tank top and hiking boots. Her platinum-streaked hair was braided into two sections. She had a demure, fresh-scrubbed look, but she wasnt a teenager. Her brown eyes twinkled with a sexy sort of mischief.
While he sized her up, she did the same to him.
Coño de la madre. If all female campers were this young and hot, hed been missing out. Faith, he said, liking her name. Where are you from?
L.A.
City of angels. Youre together? he asked, indicating the women in back.
No, Im alone. My sister was supposed to come along, but she got called into work.
Sorry to hear it.
She arched a brow. You dont look sorry.
He wiped the grin off his face. Is this your first time rafting?
Yes.
Mine, too.
Really? I thought this route was for experts.
Is it? He glanced behind him for confirmation. Are you ladies experts?
Weve been around a few rivers, the redhead said. Her name was Paula.
Dont worry, Caleb said. Ted and I have done some sixes and lived to tell the tale. He launched into a boastful account of their accomplishments. Javier wasnt impressed, but he believed that the guys knew how to paddle. Whether they stayed sober enough to do so safely was another question.
Faith didnt seem as enthusiastic about rafting as the others. Maybe she was nervous. Javier wanted to promise hed look out for her, which was strange. If anything, his presence in the group put everyone at risk.
And the less he said the better. Hed impersonated an American before and it wasnt as easy as it seemed. His English was almost perfect, and he could mimic a Californian accent. He knew U.S. history. But there were gaps in his education. TV shows he hadnt watched, rock stars he didnt know, movies hed never heard of.
Cultural references would trip him up every time.
They drove down a bumpy dirt road to an area called the put-in. As he climbed out of the van with Faith, he drew in a deep breath, amazed by the size of the river. At the campsite, the Kaweah had been a bubbling brook. This monster was immense, full of jagged rocks, with angry froth churning down the center.
Faith made a noise of distress at the sight.
Dont worry, he blurted.
Why not?
Ill take care of you.
She lifted her gaze from the water. How?
Im an excellent swimmer. Hed given surf lessons to tourists in Costa Rica. That had been a sweet gig. He should have stayed.
You look strong, she said, her eyes trailing down his body.
Well, yeah. Being physically intimidating was part of his job. Also, beating the hell out of people.
They spent the next hour going over safety rules and rafting techniques. Javier paid close attention, memorizing much of the information. Caleb and Ted invited him for a smoke break, which he declined. He didnt want to leave Faiths side. His presence seemed to comfort her. She listened to the guide carefully, partnering with Javier to practice paddling. He did his best to look like a guileless outdoorsman. Every few minutes, he glanced up at the sky, searching for Gonzaless helicopter.
Soon theyd be coming for him.
He hadnt expected there to be women on this trip, and he felt conflicted about staying. On the one hand, traveling coed was a good cover. He enjoyed female company and hed gone too long without it. On the other hand, he was running for his life. Hed waited months for an opportunity to break free. Hed shot and killed the last man who tried to stop him. If he had to do the same to Caleb or Ted, he wouldnt hesitate.
Hurting women didnt sit well with him, though.
That was why hed never go back with Gonzales. He was going to escape or die trying. God help anyone who got in his way.
You smell like peroxide, Faith said, interrupting his thoughts.
Another problem with women: they were intuitive and observant. He shouldnt have been standing so close to her. By gazing at her appreciatively and acting flirtatious, hed invited her to ask him personal questions.