Long Road to Mercy

Chapter 5

In the wide-open spaces of northern Arizona, with little competition from ambient light, the sky was littered with stars.

Yet in the depths of the Grand Canyon, while the sky was clearly visible, the stars seemed to have lost a bit of their luster when their light had to travel all the way down to the floor of the canyon. And that was when you realized how steep the walls were. They seemed to absorb every bit of light before it could get to the bottom.

Pine crouched in the darkness and performed a 360-degree sight line, pivoting on her heels as she did so.

No one was out that she could see. The darkness was not broken by someone sneaking a smoke, which was illegal in the canyon due to fire danger. There was no light from a phone. Depending on one’s phone carrier, you either had spotty reception or none at all. There was no Wi-Fi. The Ranch had a pay phone that accepted credit cards. That was it in the technology department. Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter addicts would have to wait until they returned rimside to indulge their habit.

Her gaze kept arching out farther and farther, taking in more darkened ground.

There it was again.

Stealth. Not casual. She had experienced both and instinctively knew what separated one from the other.

She made her way forward in a half crouch, one hand firmly on her Glock.

In her other hand was a Maglite. Its beam would catch on a scorpion here and there, outlining the venomous creatures in a burst of startling white.

Then came the whinny of a mule. There were two mule corrals down here, a commercial one for Phantom Ranch and one farther away that was used by the Park Service. But that corral was on the other side of Bright Angel Creek and near the banks of the Colorado. This whinny had to come from the nearer one, Pine knew.

So maybe whoever was out there was looking to take out another mule and dispose of it, and maybe add more alphabet letters to its hide. Was it the AWOL Benjamin Priest in some fit of insanity against large animals?

She made her way quickly and as quietly as possible to the corral.

Pine continued to shine the light over the ground as she walked along. There were six species of rattlesnakes down here, and they all came out at night. She wasn’t all that worried about stepping on a rattler. They could feel the vibrations of her feet against the dirt and would move away.

The corral was a hundred feet ahead. The steps she had been hearing had stopped.

A moment later she heard another whinny followed by a snort.

And then on her left, she saw movement. The man came out of the darkness and showed himself to Pine.

It was Sam Kettler. He put a finger to his lips and pointed in the direction of the mule corral. Pine nodded.

Kettler skittered over to her.

“Someone’s down there,” Pine said.

“I know. I’ve been following both of you, I guess.”

“See who it was?”

“No.”

“Well, let’s go find out. You armed?”

Kettler patted his holster. “Hope I won’t need it. I didn’t join the Park Service to shoot people. Had enough of that in the Army.”

They moved forward together, with the least noise possible.

Pine noted approvingly how Kettler moved, his silhouette kept to a minimum, each step carefully chosen. He seemed to glide, not walk, over the uneven ground.

The corral was now in her sight line.

She inserted her Maglite on the rail on top of her Glock right as she reached the corral.

Kettler took out his pistol and thumbed off the safety.

The disturbance was coming from the far side.

Kettler pointed to himself and then motioned to the left. Pine nodded and headed right.

A few moments later she started to sprint, turned the corner, and stopped, her light and gun muzzle on the person in front of her.

Kettler was already there, his weapon trained on the same target.

The person screamed and jumped back.

“FBI! Hands up where I can see them, or I will fire,” Pine commanded.

She relaxed just a tiny bit because the person looked to be a teenage girl.

“Oh, shit,” exclaimed the girl. She was dressed in shorts, with crew socks and flip-flops and a short-sleeved T-shirt. She started to cry. “Please don’t hurt me. God, please don’t shoot.”

Pine dropped her muzzle to forty-five degrees. Her gaze was on the long object in the girl’s right hand. She took a step closer and then pointed her muzzle to the dirt.

It wasn’t a knife. It was a carrot.

Kettler stepped forward, but lowered his gun as well.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” demanded Pine.

The girl held up the carrot. “I came to feed Jasmine. She’s the mule I rode down.”

“Do you know a mule was found dead yesterday morning?”

The girl nodded. “I guess that’s why I came down here, too. I wanted to check on them.”

Pine holstered her gun. “What’s your name?”

“Shelby Foster.”

“Okay, Shelby. Are you here with your family?”

“My dad and brother.”

“Where are you from?”

“Wisconsin. There’s nothing like this place there. It’s so beautiful here.”

“Yeah, it is. Okay, Shelby, feed Jasmine her carrot, and then we’re going to walk you back to where you’re bunking.”

Kettler put his gun away, too, and looked down at the flimsy flip-flops. “There are rattlers and scorpions around here, ma’am. That’s hardly appropriate footwear.”

“I have boots back at the cabin. I just didn’t want to put them back on. My feet are all swollen from the ride down.”

Kettler smiled kindly. “Yeah, that happens. But next time, think before you walk, okay?”

Later, as they walked back to one of the cabins, Shelby said to Pine, “So you’re an FBI agent?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I thought they were mostly guys.”

“They are. But I’m not.”

“That’s cool, actually.”

“Yeah, it is,” Kettler agreed, drawing a glance from Pine.

“Did you find out who killed the mule?” Shelby asked.

“Not yet, but we will.”

“Who could have done such a horrible thing?”

“Unfortunately, there are horrible people out there, Shelby. So always be aware of your surroundings. Don’t watch your phone screen 24/7. And don’t have earbuds in all the time. That makes you an easy target. Be aware. Okay?” When the teenager looked crushed, Pine tacked on a smile and added, “Girls have to look out for each other. Right?”

Shelby returned the smile and nodded, and Pine watched as she hurried into her cabin.

Kettler said, “Well, I better get back.”

“Thanks for the assist, Mr. Kettler.”

“My old man is Mr. Kettler. I’m just Sam.”

“I’m Atlee.”

Kettler looked around. “You know, I came down here for some peace and quiet. Never expected anything like this to happen. Everybody’s on edge.”

“You’ve had missing persons down here before.”

“Yeah, but we’ve never had a mule killed. For some reason, that’s upset me more than the missing person.” He nodded at her. “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”

Pine took out a business card and handed it to him. “Cell phone’s on the back of the card. You think of something, or just want to talk, give me a ring.”

He tipped his hat. “Maybe we can catch a beer sometime. Colson said you live up at Shattered Rock.”

“Yeah. Been there about a year.”

“I’m in Tusayan, not that far away.”

“No, it’s not.”

He slipped the card into his shirt pocket. “Well, see you around.”

He smiled and walked off. She watched him go, her thoughts settling on something she had just learned.

If the teen had been able to leave her cabin and get to the corral pretty much undetected that meant Benjamin Priest could have, too. The mule was dead. And maybe Priest was, too.

The Canyon was big, but it would be hard for a body to go undetected for long. At the very least the carnivores flying overhead or lurking on the ground would signal where it was located. But Pine was more interested in finding Priest alive. She had questions for him. She hoped he’d have answers. She didn’t like people who killed animals, especially because they sometimes moved on to killing people.

She checked her watch. In about six hours they would start looking in earnest for Mr. Priest. And whether they found him dead or alive, Pine had a feeling that she was going to have a lot more questions. And that maybe, just maybe, this would only be the tip of the proverbial iceberg.