Page 43 of Rescuer
The urge to vomit struck hard. Mia gagged but wouldn’t give in. Several deep breaths later, she had herself back under regulation. She walked past Jackson, who was still squatting. His complexion remained ashen, but there was no emotion on his features. Until she got to his eyes. They burned with so much intensity, she instinctively flinched away from them.
She placed her hand against his shoulder for a brief second before something else caught her eye.
A single ray of sunlight streamed through the brush and struck an object lying beneath it. It gleamed silver, flashing at her—almost hurt her eyes. She moved toward it.
“Wait—do you see something?” Jackson asked her.
“Yeah. There’s something there, under those bushes.” The sunlight dappled it. It looked like some kind of key chain or medallion.
Jackson reached into his backpack and pulled out some gloves. He handed her a pair. “Just in case this really is a crime scene, let’s not contaminate it. We want to make sure the police have every possibility of finding the clues they need to work with.”
She nodded and slipped the gloves over her hands. If he hadn’t brought it up, she never would have thought of it. She didn’t watch crime documentaries or forensic shows or anything like that.
“Thanks.” She moved toward the bushes. Jackson stood and grabbed his phone, then began taking pictures of everything.
She paused and turned toward him. “Aren’t the police going to do that?”
“They should. But what if a hiker stumbles through this site? Or a tornado touches down here or something? Anything could happen to disturb it. This way, there will be at least some evidence.”
“Okay. Good plan.”
When she reached the bush, she bent down and plucked the small item off the ground. It fit into the palm of her hand. She gasped. She knew exactly what it was.
“What did you find?”
She held it up to Jackson. He stared at it, then glanced toward her. His eyebrows furrowed.
“It’s a key chain. You don’t recognize this?” Her eyes filled with emotion. “It’s Dylan’s.”
A weird expression crossed Jackson’s face so fast she wasn’t even sure what it was.
“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.”
She nodded again. “Okay. Well, he said it was something his grandfather had given him years ago. They’d gone somewhere together. He showed it to me last year. He said he knew it was cheap and wasn’t worth much, but really, it was one of the only times that he and his grandfather had really bonded over something—and he treasured it.”
She looked down at the key chain, her voice quiet. “There’s no way he would be so clumsy as to leave it lying around. I know for a fact he said he carried it with him everywhere.”
Jackson turned in a slow circle, surveying the campground. “What do we know? They were here. They struggled with something—and whatever it was, they didn’t leave here willingly.”
She nodded. “That’s what it looks like to me too.”
Jackson took the key chain, tucked it into a plastic Ziploc bag, and sealed it. He had another sealed bag with the napkin and placed both items in his pack. “We’ll get these to the police.”
Before she could respond, something exploded on the ground between them, leaving a small crater. Dust puffed around it.
Jackson grabbed her hand and yanked her toward the trees. “Someone’s shooting at us!”
“We can’t shoot back!” Mia told him, her hand pressed against her gun. “If the boys are anywhere near here, we might hit them!”
A second shot whizzed past her ear and lodged in a tree.
“Duck down here.” Jackson nudged her behind a thick tree trunk. They both crouched low, pressed against the bark. He pulled a gun from his waistband.
“Wait!” she hissed.
“I’m going to see if I can find him.”
She pulled out her own gun. “Go!”
