But no. I didn’t argue more than a cursory amount. Now I was stuck inside this tiny plane with two men I didn’t know, on my way to search for one I barely did. I had officially lost my marbles.
Luke and Mina tried to tell me that last night too. Mina had even pulled out her phone, ready to call her friend, Claire, who was married to the local police detective. She was sure she and Claire could get him to take Tina seriously.
And she was probably right.
So, why did I still get on this plane?
I didn’t have a good answer for that. Something in my gut kept screaming at me I should go, so I listened, even though my brain said to let Mina call Claire.
The plane banked, and I gripped the armrest as the world below tilted.
Flying didn’t bother me. Not like some people. I found the view fascinating. And up here, next to Walker, I got to see more than I ever had before. Below us, the world felt impossibly vast. Mountains rose in jagged peaks, snow still on their tops like a patchwork quilt made of gray, white, and green. Valleys filled with dense forest cut between them like wrinkles in the fabric, some of them holding silver ribbons of rivers, plump from spring runoff. It was a sight I could happily stare at all day.
But it wasn’t why we were in the air. A point Walker reminded me of as he angled the nose of the plane down, dropping our altitude.
“There’s the Lace River.” He pointed slightly to the left.
I sat up, peering through the front windscreen. Down below, the mouth of the Lace River fanned out into Berners Bay. From up here it was easy to see why it was called the Lace. Fine tendrils of water snaked over the ground, giving the landscape a lacy appearance.
Toren’s voice came over the headset. “Follow the drainage to the east.”
Walker put slight pressure on the yoke, and the plane turned right. As we pressed inland, our altitude dropped further. My stomach did a little flip at how close the mountain peaks were now. I flew a lot—I lived in a remote part of Alaska, after all—but rarely did the planes I traveled in fly this low. Not unless we were getting ready to land.
“What, exactly, should I be looking for?” I asked Toren, sending a quick glance between the seats.
He didn’t look away from the window. “Campsites, fires, anything reflective, or areas where the groundcover looks disturbed.”
Turning around, I looked out the window again.
It was nothing but a sea of deep green.
My eyes bounced over the terrain, until I realized I wouldn’t find anything if I wasn’t more methodical about it.
Picking a point on the horizon, I scanned the area in a striping pattern, back and forth as Walker flew further and further up the river.
For forty-five minutes, as the sun bathed the hills and valleys in a warm glow, I searched. But there was still nothing but forest and rock, sliced by thin ribbons of silvery water. Nothing seemed out of place or stood out as manmade.
I shifted in my seat, trying a different angle on the window. The landscape tilted again as Walker turned to follow the eastern fork in the river. We buzzed just a couple thousand feet above the treetops now.
I scanned the ground, praying for a flash of color or the glint of metal. Anything that would point us in the right direction.
It was just more of the same, though. Nothing.
After another thirty minutes, Walker adjusted his mic and glanced at Toren. “I’m not seeing any obvious signs of a camp down there. No smoke, no cleared area, nothing.”
“Me, either. But that could just mean he’s careful about leaving little trace. His fiancée said he was moving camp. If he packed up, then something happened before he could set up again, we might not find anything from the air.” Toren kept his gaze directed out the window.
That was not a comfort. Because no camp meant something was definitely wrong with Dustin.
“I’m going to set us down. I’ve only got so much fuel, and I don’t think we’re going to spot him from up here.”
Our altitude dipped again.
My stomach dipped with it as I looked at the ground rushing up to meet us much faster than I would like.
I clutched the armrest again. “Geez, Walker. Were you a fighter pilot in a past life?”
He flashed a bright smile at me. “Actually, I fly stunt planes and crop dusters.”
