Chapter 11

Eleven

I’m driving down the Alaska Highway toward Johnsons Crossing. The sky is still a bright blue with only a few small white ice crystal clouds weaving like threads across the sky. They often herald thunderstorms for that evening.

I don’t hear a peep from Lou. As a precaution, I closed the folding door and wonder what would happen if the cops stopped me, but that thought is basically a joke. I’ve never been checked here and I’ve only seen a police vehicle once in all these years.

When I spot the ramshackle paddle steamer on the shores of Teslin Lake, I know I’m about to pass Johnsons Crossing. I need a newspaper, but I can’t allow Lou to call out for help. On the other hand, Johnsons Crossing consists of only a few houses, so I drive over the bridge into town, right past the tiny grocery store where I bought a carton of Marlboro on the way to Los Angeles. About two hundred yards after the town sign, I park the RV on the side of the road.

“I have to fix something,” I call back. “You’ll get something to eat afterward.”

Lou doesn’t answer. Maybe she’s still sleeping.

I lock everything up and jog back to humble Mike’s, grab two sandwiches from the refrigerated counter, one with ham and cheese for Lou, of course, and head to the magazine rack. The selection is poor—there is only the Yukon Quest. I can’t find anything about a kidnapped girl on the front page, but I buy the issue anyway and hurry back.

As I climb the steps, it’s still dead quiet inside the RV.

“Lou?”

No answer.

I unwrap the sandwich for Lou, put it on a plate, and pull open the folding door. The smell coming toward me needs…some getting used to. God, I swear, if she doesn’t wash herself soon, I’ll put her in the shower with her clothes on. When I look at her, I immediately regret the thought. She sits huddled on the bed, her head on her knees, and her arms wrapped around her bent legs.

“Hey, Lou, here’s something to eat,” I say quietly.

She doesn’t even look up.

“You should eat something; you didn’t touch anything this morning.” I hold out the plate as if I’m hand-feeding a shy deer.

No reaction. Then she raises her head a tiny bit and looks up at me.

“Lou, I won’t hurt you. Believe me.”

Her eyes are pleading. Just like at the campground when she got into the RV, not yet knowing what was in store for her.

She is silent. She doesn’t beg and she doesn’t try to change my mind. Brave crosses my mind. Or proud. Maybe she is both. This time, this new realization feels warm inside me unlike the first time with the soap when I thought she was suddenly a different Lou.

Smiling, I set the plate in front of her on the bed. “Bon appetit.”

I pull the door close, go up front, and sit at the table. While I’m eating, I leaf through the newspaper and finally spot a story in the middle of Yukon Quest about Lou”s disappearance.

CANDLELIGHT VIGIL FOR LOUISA

In the case of missing sixteen-year-old Louisa, no new information has come to light.

What follows is a minimalist summary of what happened. Then there is only one more:

According to a report by the Daily News California, the four brothers of the missing girl are planning a candlelight vigil for their sister. It is scheduled to take place tonight at Lodgepole Campground in front of the visitor center where the girl was last seen. The brothers want to demonstrate against what they consider inadequate police work.

Park ranger Thomas Baker expects a number of participants. The candlelight vigil begins at 7:00 p.m.

For a moment, I picture Ethan trying to smile away the worry. Quite pretty… Quite pretty is mine now. I quickly distract myself from the rising uneasy feeling in my stomach. I cut out the newspaper article and put it in the lockable cabinet above the door with the others.

In the evening, I leave Canol Road and continue down a former logging road.

After an hour and a half, I pull over on a graveled turnout, where I can also turn around tomorrow morning. The area is perfect. The spruce trees are so densely packed that hikers rarely stray into the area and none of the well-traveled trails are nearby. The turnout is large and secluded enough to build a campfire. Maybe this will distract Lou a bit.

I lock the two doors of the driver’s cab and go back to her. For the first time, she doesn’t recoil at the sight of me. I silently free her from the chain, but I don’t take off the handcuffs just in case I have to fasten them quickly.

“I’m going to go build a fire. We can grill later if you want,” I suggest.

She nods tentatively.

I breathe an inner sigh of relief. “If you like, you can come out and help me.”

She looks down and shakes her head as hesitantly as she nodded.

I give her a quick look. Her hair hangs down in strands and looks more like that of a street mutt than flax. “You could shower.”

She nods again.

“But be careful with your wrist.”

She runs her finger over the bandage, lost in thought as if casually stroking a cat. I push past her and go to the narrow closet at the head of the bed.

“There are clothes in here for you. You’re an XS, right?” I had folded and stacked everything neatly and now I am truly excited to see what she has to say about the dresses. The white blouse she is wearing is also among them.

Lou looks past me, her mouth gaping and her eyes like spherical marbles. I can’t tell if she recognizes her own clothes—I’m not saying anything, it’s to surprise her.

I open the drawer in the lower part of the closet. “Socks and underwear are in here.” I point to the other side. “Shoes are over there.” Her gaze returns to me, and for the first time, I can’t read it.

“And up there is everything else you’ll need. Shampoo, shower gel…tampons and stuff.”

Her eyes bore into mine. That unsettles me. I’m sure she’s wondering how long I’ve been preparing for her kidnapping.

I think about explaining the whole thing to her, but don’t. She doesn’t have to know everything at the beginning since it might only increase her fears.

“Okay… I’m gonna get started on that fire,” I say instead since she remains silent.

I pause on the threshold of the corridor: “Towels are in the overhead cupboard.” I almost forgot.

Lou’s eyes follow me. Her whole body looks petrified.

Now what did I do wrong?I would like to ask her. Louder than normal. But I hold back and go outside.

I get a bundle of firewood from the rear storage compartment and search for a few rocks at the edge of the forest to use as a barrier for the firepit.

As I lay out the circle, I glance up at the sky. The white ice crystal clouds from midday have given way to billowing cloud towers in the south. Their undersides are a stormy gray, hanging full of raindrops. Typical storm clouds. Still, I don’t stop and build a fire out of thick spruce wood. Thunderstorms in the Yukon are unpredictable. It is quite possible there will be thunder and lightning in a few hours.

As I stack the logs, my thoughts return to Lou. You just have to get to know me first. If we spend more time together, soon, she won”t be scared of me anymore. The fact that she wants to shower and barbecue with me is a start. She could have refused, unless she didn’t dare.

Then something occurs to me. “Go ahead and pick out what you want to eat later,” I call out loud enough for her to hear inside.

“Okay,” she calls back after a few seconds. I glance over my shoulder at the RV. I can’t see her, but she seems to be in the front area.

Didn’t she want to take a shower? Why isn’t she in the back at the closet looking for clothes and towels? Has she already discovered that I bought half her wardrobe?

Watch out!a voice in my head warns.

Is she searching the kitchen for a weapon?

I let go of the rough branch and remain still. “It’s all in the fridge. Pick something out for me, too!”

“Okay!”

I listen but hear nothing. I pretend to continue working in case she’s watching me. My senses are on high alert. But she won’t find a weapon and it’s unlikely she’ll break my neck with a plate.

I keep working, but I can’t banish the anxiety. From the east, cumulus clouds roll across the sky like dark gray avalanches. The layers of air thicken and the shadows blur with the twilight.

Watch out!

I look at the RV where everything is quiet. Cold air streams out of the forest sending goose bumps down my spine as if I sense something bad is about to happen.

And then I hear a dull thump.

It sounds like the impact of someone jumping from a low branch. I know immediately what that means.