Save Your Breath (Morgan Dane #6)(66)

Lance opened the cargo area of his Jeep. He kept his vehicle stocked with emergency supplies, and this was not the first time he’d needed to use them. He handed a coil of nylon rope and a carabiner to Sharp and set the same aside for himself.

Starting with the midpoint on his left side, Sharp fed the rope around his waist, between his legs, and around both thighs, forming a half hitch on each hip. He tied the rope off with a few more knots on his left side, away from his dominant or brake hand, giving him an emergency rappel harness, also known as a Swiss Seat. He attached a carabiner to the front of the makeshift harness.

Lance followed suit. He slung two more sections of rope over one shoulder. Sharp returned to the group, and Lance backed the Jeep closer to the ravine. With no tall trees on the side of the road, they tied their ropes to the tow bar on the back of the Jeep.

They picked their way around rocks, brush, and tree trunks, then paused at the top of the drop-off. From this angle, Lance had a better view of the vehicle. “The car isn’t at the bottom. Those trees are keeping it from sliding any farther.”

Sharp looked over his shoulder. “The clearest path is on the driver’s side.”

“Right,” Lance said. “We don’t want to land on the vehicle in case our weight makes it fall the rest of the way to the bottom.”

Another twenty-foot drop could kill anyone who might still be alive inside.

“Watch the broken trees.” Lance went over the edge backward, letting out his rope slowly, making his way down the ravine. Sharp descended next to him. They stopped parallel to the car. The roof was partially caved in, and the exterior badly dented and damaged. Spider cracks and holes covered the windshield. The driver’s door hung open. Lance stopped, bracing his foot on a tree root, to lean out and peer into the vehicle. The driver’s seat was empty.

“She’s not in the front,” Lance said.

Broken glass and debris filled the inside of the car. The airbag had deployed and deflated. Despite the damage, the interior of the vehicle remained intact.

Sharp stared down at the ravine floor. “The occupants could have been ejected in the crash or fell or climbed down afterward.”

“It’s possible.” Lance looked for blood on the seat, steering wheel, and dashboard. “I don’t see any blood in the car. I would expect to see some blood if a person rode this car all the way down that slope.”

Sharp nodded. “Maybe whoever was driving got lucky.”

“Maybe.” But Lance doubted it. Even restrained by a seat belt, a person would have been banged up in that crash.

“The driver would have been hanging by the seat belt. The belt wasn’t cut. It wouldn’t have been easy to get out of it and the vehicle.”

“No.” Sharp paused. “We’ve already decided Olivia was kidnapped from her house.”

“We could have been wrong about her being put in the cargo area. Maybe he sat in the back and forced her to drive at gunpoint.” Lance scanned the car. “Or she somehow caused the driver to crash the car.”

Sharp scanned the inside of the vehicle. “I really think there should be blood.”

“Maybe no one was inside the vehicle.” As Lance considered the interior, this seemed the most likely scenario. “The car could have been pushed off the road to dispose of it.”

Sharp dropped a few feet. “I’m going to the bottom.”

Lance followed him to the ground and unclipped his carabiner, letting the rope dangle. At his feet was a side mirror ripped from the Prius. Pieces of broken red plastic, possibly from the brake light cover, were scattered on the ground. He looked up at the car precariously perched in the trees above them. The wall of the ravine was nearly vertical at the bottom, but there were some thin trees and brush protruding from the earth. But would they hold an adult’s weight?

Lance took out his cell phone and sent Morgan a text: No Olivia. Checking ravine.

“I’ll go this way.” Sharp headed south.

Lance went in the opposite direction. He kept his eyes on the ground, looking for broken underbrush, footprints, drops of blood, scraps of fabric, anything that would suggest a wounded person walked that way. But he saw nothing. He traveled about a hundred feet and turned back.

Lance returned to the vehicle. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, “Sharp!”

“I’m coming,” Sharp called and appeared two minutes later.

“The sooner we climb back up, the sooner the troopers can organize a search. I didn’t see any tracks, but it’s still possible.”

Sharp nodded. “I didn’t see anything either. I don’t know whether to be relieved or not.”

“I know.” Lance started climbing. The trip to the top took longer than the descent had. By the time they reached the road, an ambulance, fire truck, and tow truck had arrived.

They relayed their findings to the responders and stepped aside while the firemen and tow truck driver discussed extracting the Prius from the ravine. Lance stepped out of his Swiss Seat. Sharp did the same. They stood on the side of the road.

Sharp gestured to the ribbon of blacktop. “There aren’t any skid marks. If I were driving toward the edge of the road, I’d lay on the brakes.”

“Me too,” Lance agreed.

“I think you’re right. No one was in the car, and whoever took Olivia pushed it off the road.”