Page 66 of Avenging Angel

“This weekend is the anniversary of Emily’s death. Just like her parents, Brad pays homage by spending a week in the great outdoors because that’s what she loved,” I tell him. “He didn’t hide the fact that he plans on hiking for an extended length of time.”

“Convenient,” Jeremy retorts.

Roger chimes in. “Keep your eyes open for anyone who looks suspicious. If Logan Bloom is still alive, then he could be anyone or anywhere. All we know for certain is that he’s a male in his late forties, around six feet tall. He should be fit considering his love of the outdoors.”

Mason and Gemma told me that he and Emily used to spend their weekends rock climbing and backpacking. Every year for Emily’s birthday, the Bloom family would choose a National Park to visit, never visiting the same one twice.

“Logan Bloom is alive,” I say. “I’m sure of it. There are just too many similarities between what happened before his supposed car accident and the string of kidnappings since. Then there’s the secretive job Gemma told me about. It reeks of Dominion.”

“If only Bennett were here to shed some light on the situation,” Jaxon says. “I’m honestly surprised he didn’t give you any more information once you shared what you had learned from the Blooms.”

I bite my lower lip, moving my rifle slowly so that my position remains undetected. I study each of the girls, ignoring any who don’t have dark hair. “About that. I didn’t exactly tell him. And before any of you question my judgment, it’s not that I don’t trust Bennett….”

“Then why?” Jeremy asks.

“Because Bennett would have told us about Logan if he knew. What good would it do to tell him we had a new lead while he’s laid up in the hospital and can’t do anything about it? I don’t have anything to prove the Blooms’ claim, not even an obituary for Logan. I promise that once we have something concrete, I’ll tell him.”

Jack walks into my line of sight, picking up broken tree branches and collecting them to place next to the fire pit near his and Jeremy’s tent. When he bends down to hide his face so that he doesn’t draw suspicious looks for talking to himself, he asks, “Daisy, do you see any girls that you think would be a target?”

“So far there are three that I think would be high on the list. The first is the girl in the puffy pink jacket. You’ll notice that she’s standing around, arms crossed, and wearing an expression that clearly says she’d rather be anywhere else other than here.”

Jack glances her way, then turns his back. “I see her.”

I look through my scope and find the second girl. “Jeremy, at your three o’clock position you should see a girl wearing a Colorado Rockies sweatshirt. She might be a target just because of what she’s wearing.”

Jeremy casually walks by with a phone to his ear. Then he stops and holds it up, spinning in a slow circle like he’s trying to get a cell signal. When he sees the girl, he places the phone back to his ear and keeps walking. “Would he really choose a girl based on her clothing?”

“Who knows for sure how he chooses his victims,” I reply. “All I know is what he told me when I was in that cave. He saw me argue with my parents and figured I’d likely be deemed a runaway. Regardless of whether it’s Logan or Brad behind the abductions, there’s a clear fixation on Emily’s death. So yes, as morbid as it seems, that girl’s sweatshirt could decide her fate.”

Angel hears the anger rising in my tone, and rather than try to calm me down, he changes my focus. “And who’s the third girl?”

“The one we should put at the very top of the list.” I shift and bring the girl back into view. “Faith, you and Jaxon are closest to her. It’s the girl pitching the tent all by herself because no one is willing to help her. Her jacket is threadbare and well-worn. She’s isolated from her peers, either by circumstance or by choice. Everything about her screams ‘scholarship kid.’”

“That’s like having leprosy in a school full of rich kids,” Faith says. “We’re going to help her set up.”

While I feel for the girl, I can’t allow that to happen. “No. You need to keep walking. There are about a dozen other girls who could be targets, and if Logan is in the area, no doubt he’s watching you. If you help her, then he’ll only choose someone else.”

“Daisy, we can’t use her as bait,” Jaxon says.

“There’s a whole bucket full of bait,” I retort. “I called the school and warned them. Owen called and even provided his FBI credentials. No one listened. The best thing we can do now is to be prepared since they chose to come despite the threat.”

One of the adults claps their hands to get the girls’ attention. “Ladies! For the duration of the weekend, you will need to rely on the buddy system! I have it on good authority that there are bears in the area and other predators! They’ll be looking for food, so clean up your areas, keep snacks in the locked coolers at the edge of your campsite, and don’t go anywhere without your buddy!”

“Okay, maybe they listened a little,” Owen mutters.

“But what if we have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night?” one girl asks. Thank goodness Faith and Jaxon are close enough that I can hear what’s being said through our comms. “I’m not waking Tyffani up at two in the morning. I like to keep my eyes intact, thank you very much!”

“Then wake me up,” the woman replies. “I’ll go with you. Under no circumstances are you to go off by yourself. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Ms. Toohey,” the girls say as one.

I zero in on Ms. Toohey and notice there’s a rigidity to her posture as she looks around with caution.

Roger speaks up. “Faith and Jaxon, go get some rest. You have the night shift. Jeremy and Jack, stay vigilant. Scott, move to Daisy’s position and take over. It has the best vantage point. Owen, stay where you are. Angel and Daisy will relieve you both at 2300 hours.”

Considering I haven’t slept since I left yesterday morning to go to Colorado, I don’t have the energy to argue or question orders. I pull back inch by inch until I’m certain I’m no longer in view of anyone who might look my way.

An hour later, I’m packed up and moving out. That’s when the sound of a twig snapping deeper in the woods captures my attention.