Cache a Predator Read online

  Justin placed his iPhone on the desk, slipped on his tennis shoes that were sitting next to the sofa, and grabbed his sunglasses. “Do I need one of those safari hats too?”

  “Nope, none necessary.” Nikki copied the GPS coordinates of the cache into the iPhone from the geocaching site. The site was west of Hursey Park. “I think this one is along the trails behind the doctors’ offices. Listen to what it says about the site:

  “‘In 1924 developers of the west side of Hursey Lake considered using this site as the location of the new sugar mill. The nearby creek and abundant trees made the area very inviting. Unfortunately, construction crews began to complain about the terrible smell and eerie noises coming from the wooded area adjacent to the bridge. Several residents reported seeing a large apelike creature moving through the woods in the early morning hours. Construction crews aborted the project in 1926 when one worker—Richard Tracker—had a face-to-face encounter with something he described as a large manlike ape that had stepped out from under the bridge. It howled and made a sound Tracker said he didn’t want to hear twice in his lifetime.

  “‘The cache is hidden near a tree alongside the bridge. A longtime resident of the area claimed the tree was sacred to Indians that lived there in the nineteenth century. The tree was called “Walking Bearman.” The area has never been developed due to the persistent sightings of this apelike creature stalking the bridge until the late 1970s.

  “‘Move fast and don’t linger too long. Hikers have reported mysterious shadows moving in the woods in the late-night hours, and unusual noises on moonlight nights. Dogs may be spooked in the area too.’”

  Nikki said, “Ooohhh, doesn’t that sound mysterious?” She didn’t wait for Justin to answer as she reached for her sunglasses and the hiking backpack and threw it over her shoulder.

  “Very cool, yes.”

  Minutes later, Justin drove to a community parking lot closest to the trails and parked.

  Nikki couldn’t believe she’d finally convinced him to go. He was always surprising her. She thought he’d try to find a way out of it, but not this time. She hoped once she got him outside and he felt the excitement of the hunt, he’d love it, and they could geocache more often.

  He held her hand as they walked along the roadside of the industrial park medical district, his dark coarse hair hanging over his ears.

  People drove by on their way to the hospital, a doctor’s office, or a pharmacy. None would suspect where Nikki and Justin were going or what they were after. Nikki felt a little like a private detective. What a thrill.

  She glanced at the navigation system, but the sun’s bright rays made it almost impossible to read. She put her back to the sun, making a shadow on the screen to determine where they were going. “It says we’re seven-tenths of a mile away. How far is that?”

  “Oh, from about here to there.” Justin pointed across the street.

  “Where over there?” Nikki squinted to see.

  Justin laughed and pointed again. “Somewhere over there.”

  Nikki slugged his arm. “Quit teasing me. You know I have no sense of direction.”

  Justin smirked. “I think we’re supposed to go west now through this parking lot since the bridge is over that way. Right?” He pointed to a little sidewalk between two doctors’ offices.

  They headed toward the office door, but instead of going into the building, they continued their trek behind it, toward a field that led into the woods.

  When they got to the trail entrance, Justin motioned for Nikki to go first.

  She led them along the worn trail. “I read somewhere that it’s important to act like we have a purpose—not to look like we’re hunting for the prize. There could be other hikers searching for the same cache, and you don’t want to spoil their fun or give away that we’re searching.”

  Thick weeds scraped at Nikki’s legs and arms. The sounds of automobiles driving by and horns honking faded as the trees and the brush absorbed the sound. Soon, all that was left were the sounds of bees humming, frogs from the nearby creek croaking, and the rustling of the bushes they walked through. Nature followed them to the bridge. Little bitty eyes lay hidden in the trees, watching them.

  A fly flew into Nikki’s ear, and she let out a little scream. “That little insect just smashed itself onto my face.” She wiped the wet spot with the bottom of her shirt.

  Justin took her hand and drew her closer to him. “Come here.”

  She hopped over a large prickly weed.

  He pulled her into his arms. “I was hoping we’d have a moment like this.” His lips pressed into hers. He reached down to her buttocks and brought her even closer. Then his fingers walked up her back to the long tendrils of red hair that fell loosely on her back.

  She shivered and felt the hardness of his body against hers and the way his fingers pressed possessively around her waist. A sliver of sunlight peeked in between the shade of the tree branches shining a light on Justin’s brow. Oh, she could stand here a very long time. But she pulled away. “Hey, stop that.” She giggled. “We came here to find the cache.” She took his hand and led him further along the path.

  Justin laughed and slapped her bottom. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  She flinched and giggled. A squirrel’s paws crunched on dead leaves on his way up a nearby tree. Nikki looked ahead. “There’s the bridge up that hill. See it?” With her hand over her brow, she said, “Check out that humungous tree!” A large tree hovered over the bridge at the far end.

  “I bet that’s the one called Bearman. Look out. He’s probably lurking nearby.” Justin laughed.

  “Stop!” Nikki turned to give him the evil eye. But then she broke out in laughter.

  Justin checked the GPS. “I think we need to get to a clearing. I don’t have a good signal here.”

  They hurried about ten feet to where a bike path opened into a less dense area. Justin stopped to study the reading.

  Nikki gazed at the bridge. “Do you remember reading the book The Three Billy Goats Gruff when you were a kid?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “This reminds me of the story. The Billy goat tries to cross the bridge, and the troll, who’s lurking under the bridge, says, ‘Who’s that tramping over my bridge?’ But in the end, the Billy goat wins. He pokes the troll’s eyeballs out and crushes him to bits, body, and bones.”

  “Except today, instead of the Billy goat, it’ll be Bearman, right?”

  “It does feel kinda creepy here. Can’t you just picture the troll waiting under the bridge and hear the clippity-clop noise of the goat on the top? Shhh, listen to how quiet it is.” They froze and listened. The only sounds were the chirping of birds and the gurgling water under the bridge.

  Justin abruptly placed his hands on Nikki’s shoulders and shouted, “Boo!”

  Nikki screamed and jumped, slugging Justin on the arm. “Don’t do that!”

  Justin held out his hand. “Wait.” He inhaled. “Do you smell that smell?”

  She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “Yuk, what is that?”

  “It’s the Bearman! Rooaarrr!” He laughed.

  She swatted his arm again, giggling.

  “I couldn’t resist.” He glanced at the GPS. “It looks like it must be under the bridge here somewhere.” He pointed to where a stream ran perpendicular to the bridge, where the water gurgled only a few inches deep. Rocks jutted out along the way.

  Nikki ducked under the bridge along the side of the water, trying to balance on the rocks, holding onto the metal support beams on the side. Her eyes followed the beams above. “I bet it’s in one of these steel pieces on the side. You look down at that end, and I’ll look down at this end.”

  “If you find it first, don’t open it. Wait for me,” Justin said as he headed in the other direction.

  They searched all around and underneath until they heard someone riding a bicycle, its spokes clicking along the top of the wooden bridge, and then past them deeper into the woods.
<
br />   “Let’s check out the top side.” Justin waved Nikki over.

  Together they walked with their heads bent, looking down in between the wooden boards. They started at one end of the bridge, walking to the other side. When they got to the end, Justin noticed a loose board. When he stepped on one side the board, the other side rose.

  Nikki knelt next to the raised board and peered underneath. “Cool. We found it!” Lying in the dirt was a dark-green metal box. The words Geocache Box were written on the outside in red nail polish. Flies buzzed all around it. Nikki waved them away and handed the box to Justin, jumping like a cheerleader on the balls of her feet and squealing. “I can’t believe we found it!” She hopped in a circle. “I know it’s silly, but it’s the thrill of it.”

  While Nikki jumped, Justin knelt in front of the box. “Hey, what’s this? Look what I found.”

  Nikki knelt next to him. Justin met her eyes. He held a tiny square box. Slowly, he flipped it open. Inside sparkled a princess-cut diamond ring—her favorite kind. She gasped.

  Justin, still on his knees, said, “Nikki, will you marry me?”

  “What?” Her hand covered her mouth. “Was that in the cache box?”

  He chuckled. “No, I haven’t opened the cache box yet. This is the box I brought. Do you really think someone would put something this valuable in a metal box for anyone to find?”

  Nikki’s heart felt like it would hop out of her chest. “Then this is for real? You’re really, really asking me?” Her voice grew higher with each word.

  “I’m really, really asking.”

  Nikki took the ring with trembling fingers. Justin slid it on her finger. Tears streamed down her face.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “Do I have to ask twice? Will you marry me?”

  “Yes! Yes!” Nikki stood and stared at the ring in the sunlight, twirling and admiring how it sparkled and lit up her hand. “I can’t believe this. You had it planned all along, didn’t you?”

  “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  She threw her arms around him, and they tumbled onto the ground, laughing, with Nikki still squealing. “I love you, you tricky guy, you!”

  Justin held her and kissed her tenderly. He wiped her tears with the bottom of his shirt and gave her a totally serious look. “I’m really looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you.”

  “Me too, me too.” She smiled.

  They stayed that way for a few minutes, wrapped in each other’s arms and looking into each other’s eyes. Nikki didn’t want the moment to end.

  Justin said, “Let’s open the cache box and sign in as the future Mr. and Mrs. Justin Prescott. This is history. We’re now an engaged couple!” He pulled Nikki to a sitting position, reached for the box, and then opened it. Inside was a logbook, a plastic bag, a Spiderman sticker, an old six-inch wooden ruler, and a bottle of nail polish that jiggled on the bottom.

  “What’s in the Ziploc bag?”

  Justin picked it up by the corner, holding it up to examine it. “Ew, I don’t know.” He moved the contents around inside the bag.

  “It looks bloody and squishy.” Nikki reached over and pressed her fingers to it. She peeled apart the Ziploc seal and opened the bag. A stench as bad as a spraying skunk filled the air, making them both gag. Nikki screamed and threw the bag down.

  Justin pulled his phone from his pocket. He put his nose in the crook of his arm and resealed the bag using just the tips of his fingers. “I think I know what it is. I’m calling the police.”

  Nikki pinched her nostrils shut. “Why? What is it?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  Chapter Twelve

  At 8:50 a.m. Brett drove his cruiser downtown toward the corner of Main and Third—a block from Mark’s house—and pulled into the Kroger parking lot. Mark was supposed to be at work, so Brett thought it might be a good time to check his house for Max. Things didn’t add up, and Brett didn’t want to wait for Clay to talk to Mark.

  Brett still trembled, visibly rattled from his discussion with Ali, and called the animal shelter again.

  When the girl answered, it sounded like there was a pack of barking dogs in the room.

  “This is Officer Reed, just checking back to see if anyone turned in a golden retriever? I called yesterday.”

  The girl paused. “Max?”

  Brett’s heart raced, hopeful. “Yes.”

  “I see the note here, but no goldens have been turned in. I’m sorry.” She promised to call if they found him.

  Brett exhaled, feeling hope fade. It wasn’t rational to think that if they found Max Brett would be closer to gaining custody of Quinn, because one had nothing to do with the other, but finding Max would give him hope.

  Maybe the dog had followed Mark home. There was one way to find out. He had forty-five minutes before he had to pick up Ali for their appointment. Not much time, but he would get in and get out. It would be worth it if he found Max and could bring him to see Quinn.

  Brett could have called Mark and asked him, but ever since the divorce they hadn’t been close. Mark had made it clear that he loathed Brett. He’d been the one to push Ali into filing the protective order.

  Just as Brett was about to get out of the car, his phone vibrated. Clay.

  Brett answered. “Did you see Mark?”

  “No, sorry. He was out of the building at a meeting, but I’ll try back later.”

  “Thanks.” Brett got out of his car and headed toward Mark’s house, taking the alley behind his home. Brett was acting impulsively, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself.

  “I’ve got an update on the whacker though—two hikers found another dick in a cache box this morning. We think it’s Hunter’s, but it’s too late to sew it back on. It was sent off for DNA testing.”

  “Ouch! Where did they find it?” Brett heard paper rustling in the background.

  “Under the bridge near the Walking Bearman tree.”

  “Didn’t you say the first was found north?” Brett turned down the alley behind Mark’s.

  “Yeah. I have a map identifying the site locations. Stop in after you meet with the counselor and pick it up. It looks like we’re going to need a lot more support to cover these cache sites.”

  Brett, with his phone to his ear, listened to Clay as he continued his walk toward Mark’s. The summer sun peeked in between the trees and houses along his way. He was glad he’d dressed in his khaki shorts and a short-sleeved shirt instead of his uniform. At least he’d be cooler. “Chief might not want me at the precinct. Maybe you could meet me somewhere. I’ll give you a call after my appointment.”

  “Where are you now?”

  Brett approached Mark’s backyard from the alley. “Uh … you don’t want to know. I’ll call you later.”

  After Brett clipped his phone back onto his belt, he climbed the steps and knocked at the back door. No answer. A row of hedges bordering the property hid the neighbor’s view of Mark’s yard. Perfect. He knocked again, and when no one answered, he turned the knob.

  Locked.

  He walked down the back porch steps to the side of the house, checking the bathroom window, which was slightly ajar. After taking out his pocket knife, he dug at the corner of the screen and pried it open, then set it next to the house, behind a bush. He pushed the window open and lifted himself into the house headfirst, coming face-to-face with the toilet.

  He stood and froze, listening for sounds of life. Nothing.

  “Max?”

  Nothing.

  Tiptoeing, he made his way into the living room, noticing the furniture—not much—a few tables, a futon, and a few tall lamps. It looked the same as the last time he’d been there. No sign of Max or Mark.

  He went into the kitchen. A toaster and a coffeepot sat on the counter, dishes lay in the sink. Unopened mail littered the countertop: Netflix, phone bill—nothing out of the ordinary.

  Brett hurried into the office and sat down at the
desk in front of Mark’s computer.

  He tapped the space bar, and the machine began to whir. A leopard appeared as the screen saver. Brett clicked on the browser, and Google appeared. No passwords necessary. Sweet. He clicked on the History bar and then Show All History. Everything Mark had recently Googled appeared—mostly Amazon and Facebook pages. He clicked on some of his comments and his friends’ Facebook pages. No secrets there.

  Brett continued scrolling. He clicked on yesterday’s date. Lines of geocaching sites appeared. “Whoa! What the heck?” He leaned forward and hurried to click on the first one. It was a YouTube video of a couple on their first hunt. His heart raced. Why would he be researching geo-sites? Brett was certain Mark had never hiked a day in his life. Another site was a recording of a difficult find. All were in this county—Stark County. Brett scoured the desk for a piece of paper and a pen. He jotted down the specific site locations and stuffed the paper in his shorts pocket. He was about to move the cursor to a Word file, when he heard a car door slam outside. Crap!

  He hurried toward the window and looked out. Mark’s truck had pulled into the driveway. Damn! What was he going to do now? This had been a really stupid idea. Nothing he could say could get him out of this one. He scanned the room and looked for a place to hide. The only option was the closet. He slipped into it and left the door ajar, and concentrated on keeping his body still and breathing as quietly as possible. He only had fifteen minutes to get to Ali’s. How the hell was he going to get out unseen?

  The back door opened, footsteps followed, and then the refrigerator squeaked opened. A minute later, footsteps headed down the hallway.

  Peeking through the crack of the closet door, he watched Mark, dressed in a navy suit, pop the top of a Coke, take a swig, and set it on the desk. He plopped into the chair. The back of his balding head stared at Brett. Mark clicked the keys and hesitated. He gulped a few sips of his Coke and paused.

  Brett’s phone vibrated. Shit!

  Mark spun around in his chair and faced the closet. “Who’s there?”