Killer Ambition

27

It was just shy of eleven a.m. when we reached the top of the mountain, but the sun was already blinding. And at that altitude, we had no cloud or even smog cover to filter the burning rays. I took off my cotton jacket and put on my shades before getting out of the car. The heat wrapped around me like cellophane and the hot air singed my nostrils and throat as I sweated my way up the dusty hill. Although it had been only a couple of days since the torrential downpour ripped open Brian’s grave, the area was already baked dry. The only remnants of that drenching rain were puddles and muddy patches that were shaded under trees and rocks.

Bailey had offered Dorian some unis to help with the search, but Dorian had declined. Graciously, of course: “Bad enough having to deal with you two clowns stomping all over the place.” Now that I had the chance to look around, I could see that there was a lot of ground to cover. Thankfully, she’d brought some of her own assistants, who were already sweating in their official coveralls. Of the several main trails on the ridge, only one led to Brian’s grave. But there were plenty of narrow, off-trail pathways that gave access to the spot where Brian had been found, and every inch of them had to be examined for evidence.

Dorian, who looked cool as the proverbial cucumber, had broken the area into grids and appointed her own people to lead the way through each one of them. She grudgingly allowed us to join the search but gave us strict orders: “Follow Herrera, and I mean exactly behind him.”

Bailey and I inched along behind Herrera, who must’ve been Dorian’s favorite, because he seemed to be examining every millimeter of every single leaf, stone, and branch as he moved through his part of the grid. The air was heavy with the smells of sage and scrub oak, and salty perspiration kept trickling into my eyes, blurring my vision. It would only take a few seconds to veer off course, and in that steep, rocky terrain, one wrong step could send you hurtling to your death. I swiped my damp hair off my forehead and tried not to think about it.

After about half an hour, Herrera stopped abruptly, which caused Bailey to halt in her tracks. I’d been looking at the reddish dirt and pondering the clay content at the time, so didn’t notice that our little procession had braked. I bumped headfirst into Bailey, who nearly fell into Herrera. He gave her a stern look and then pointed.

There, speared on a thin branch, was a small piece of pale pink fabric-I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but it seemed to be the same color as Hayley’s blouse. If I was right, that would put Hayley at the site of…Bailey and I exchanged a look. Finally, we might have a real break. We took photos, then Herrera carefully deposited it into a paper bag. He took out a pair of garden clippers and snipped off the last six inches of branch and bagged that too.

After a few moments we began to inch forward again. Now, energized by what I hoped was a find, I took closer note of every branch and leaf we passed. I saw that there were broken branches here and there-as good a sign as we were likely to find that someone had recently been here. I pointed them out to Herrera, who held up his camera to show that he’d caught it. I didn’t want to stop, but my mouth was dry and my skin felt gritty with dried sweat. I pulled out a bottle of water and let Bailey and Herrera continue to move forward. At the painstaking pace Herrera was moving, I’d still be able to catch up if I didn’t budge for another three hours.

My neck was aching from the strain of concentrating on every shrub, pebble, and grain of dirt. I straightened up and pulled back my shoulders as I glanced at the stretch of mountain ahead. It looked as though the route we were taking was winding back toward the road. A scenario began to form in my mind, and I started to study the ground carefully as I walked.

Ten minutes later we snaked around an outcropping, and I looked up to see that we were just fifty feet from the road. Herrera stopped to take more photographs and Bailey pulled out her water bottle. I pulled mine out of my backpack, but it slipped from my hand and rolled under a bush. As I bent down to get it, I noticed a bright spot in the branches of one of the bushes-an artificial color that didn’t belong there. Poking my head in for a closer look, I saw that it was pink, and possibly rectangular.

I stood up and called out to Herrera. “Here! I’ve got something!” Probably just Barbie’s Dream Car, but I wasn’t going to take any chances.

Herrera turned back and carefully retraced his steps. He bent down and looked at the object through one of the biggest magnifying glasses I’d ever seen. I was entranced by that giant magnifier. I decided that I wanted one of my own, and made a mental note to drop a hint to Bailey about it-my birthday was coming up soon. Then it occurred to me that after Toni and I got done ripping on her about the questions she’d asked Uma, she might not be in such a charitable mood. Preoccupied with important thoughts like these, I almost missed it when Herrera finally finished taking photographs and extracted the object from the bush.

It was a cell phone.