Stone Cold Heart (Tracers #13)(32)

Nolan looked at Tristan. “Will she hike down the back or rappel?”

“Rappel.”

Sara looked up again, and her pulse started to race. Just the thought of what a drop like that could do filled her with dread.

Maisy moved swiftly over the rock, as though she belonged there. She extended her leg again, and Sara watched, stunned, as she sank into a full split, her tiny feet pressed against bumps in the stone. Sara’s breath caught. Beside her, Tristan muttered a curse. She glanced over to see Nolan staring up, his face frozen.

Maisy reached back and chalked her hands one at a time. Then she stretched her arm up and found a hold. Her body flowed upward, moving gracefully over the stone until she reached the overhang.

Sara’s stomach clenched as she tried to imagine the route. She had to go around. There was no other way.

“What the . . .” Nolan’s words faded as Maisy reached an arm up, swung sideways, and then used the momentum to throw her leg over the outcropping of rock. The next instant, her entire body disappeared over the ledge.

No one moved or spoke. The air was thick with tension. And then a high-pitched whistle echoed down.

“She did it.” Tristan grinned.

The man watching from the bottom let out a howl, and the women beside him clapped. Sara found herself clapping, too, even though her hands felt numb and her heart was still pounding just from watching the show.

Sara looked at Nolan. His jaw was clenched tight, indicating he’d been just as worried as she had.

“I’ll check you guys later.” Tristan smiled and walked off, clearly eager for his turn on the wall.

Sara glanced at Nolan. “You all right?”

“No.” He shook his head, looking up. “If I had a kid who did that, I’d ground her for life.”

She smiled.

“Anything from Tristan?” He turned to face her.

“Not much,” she said.

“What’s your read on him?”

“He seems genuine. I don’t get the impression he’s hiding anything.”

“In other words, if he knew something, he’d tell us?”

“That was my take, yes.”

“Mine, too,” Nolan said. “I’ve talked to him several times now.”

“You mentioned Luke has a solid alibi. What is it, exactly?”

“Witnesses saw him in the park all morning. Then he showed up on time for his ten-to-six shift as a lifeguard at a local pool. His story holds, and he even volunteered for a polygraph, which he passed with flying colors.”

Sara held Nolan’s gaze. Polygraphs weren’t foolproof.

“I know what you’re getting at,” he said. “Always look at the boyfriend. But in this case?” He shook his head. “I’m not feeling it.”

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Sara whirled toward the noise. It sounded like gunshots, but it had to be firecrackers.

Pop! Pop!

“Are those—”

“I have to go deal with that,” Nolan said. “Last thing we need tonight is a brush fire. Meet you at the truck?”

“Sure.”

“See if you can talk to Maisy.”

He headed off, and Sara glanced back at the wall in time to see Maisy unhooking herself from the rappel. Tristan handed her a bottle of water, and she gave him a fist bump. Sara watched them talk for a few minutes, and then Maisy broke away from the group to walk over to a pile of gear. She pulled her helmet off and shook out her hair as Sara stepped over.

“Maisy?”

She looked up, instantly wary.

“I’m Sara Lockhart. Detective Hess and I stopped by to see if we could ask you a few questions.”

Maisy glanced around, probably looking for Nolan.

“He went to check on some fireworks,” Sara said. “You mind talking a minute?”

She shrugged. “I’m headed back to camp.”

Maisy dropped her helmet on the pile of gear and dusted her hands, leaving streaks of white on her black pants. “You’re the one who found the bones in Rattlesnake.”

“I helped recover them.”

“I’m friends with Liz. The one who spotted them down there?”

Liz had to be the woman with the dreadlocks.

“Think I saw her at the scene,” Sara said. “How’s she doing?”

“Pretty freaked-out.”

They ducked into the shade of the cypress trees.

“Someone posted a video of it,” Maisy said. “I didn’t see it, but I heard it was pretty bad. It wasn’t Kaylin, though, right?”

“The victim is unidentified. But it isn’t Kaylin, no.”

Maisy stopped and gazed up at her. She was barely five feet tall, but the look in her eyes was fierce.

“The guy who did it, they think he might have killed Kaylin, too, don’t they?”

“You think it’s a guy?”

“Isn’t it always?”

Sara didn’t answer. She wanted to see if Maisy had something specific to say or if she was generalizing.

“That’s what they’re thinking, right? Hess? The cops?”

“We’re investigating a possible link between the cases.”

They started walking again, headed toward the distant sound of music coming from the campground.