Chapter One:
The Camping Trip

She stretched on the truck camper's mattress and pulled Jack closer. The dark chocolate and white shorthaired pointer gave a familiar yip of delight and rolled over so that she would scratch his belly. Her cramps were subsiding. "Meds work," she told Jack, "even for an old menopausal lady or what's the word, peri-menapausal? No, I'm way too old to be peri-menapausal." Her doctor, half joking, had told her to think of this as the last 'hurrah' of her menstruation. It was coming to an end. "Some hurrah, Jack. The last hurray before it's over and my periods are done: a last touch of my youth. I'm sad. I'm glad. And it's late at 59 for this conclusion, but as the good ole Doc said, I'm fine. It's just my genetics." She laughed and felt a spurt of energy as she led Jack from the camper for another walk. He'd been fed earlier that morning, about six-ish when Jeff and Jonathan left for their photo-hike. They'd taken their cameras, very expensive cameras, and told her they'd be back by 10 or 11. She could hear Jeff say: "For sure by 11, no later." He had added, "Hopefully with lots of great nature shots." A quick glance at her watch, while Jack sniffed about, made her realize that she had a good sleep of three hours since they had left.

That morning she had time for a leisurely shower, for straightening up the camper while greeting several neighbors and for a shared breakfast with Jack. Around 11:30 she began to feel some annoyance, just an ever so slight edginess. Jeff had insisted that she accompany him and his son in the park for an "outing," his word. They would have together time and the chance to see if they could be a couple again. She was not a camper, though Claire Dawes liked to hike and especially like to do competitive walking. She had agreed to come mainly because it was the long Labor Day weekend; because she was caught up on all her accounting for the bank and for her private clients; and because she needed the companionship not only of humans but of a four legged creature, especially since the loss of her beloved black cat, Sam, to his advanced age.

By noon, her annoyance had grown. In an attempt to soothe herself, she played her flute. About 45 minutes into her playing, an older woman from the next RV came over and complemented her. "Oh, that's so lovely. Hearing that flute in the park with the little stream in front of us and the woods all around really makes this a paradise." She rambled on. "It makes me feel that a wee little fairy might just land on the hood of my camper." She sighed. "I saw you this morning around 6ish walking your dog after your husband and son left. You look much better now. You got some color in your face. Why white as a sheet you was earlier." Claire corrected her that the two were her friend and his son and added that she did feel much better. The two women sat for a while and chatted. First names were exchanged and Jack received the share of petting and hugs to which he felt and certainly was entitled. By the time the woman returned to her luxury camper and Claire played a little longer, the restlessness and annoyance had changed to worry. She felt a push to walk with Jack on the same trail from which Jeff and Jonathan had left.

She preceded cautiously on the path, looking for any sign, for any indication that Jeff and Jonathan had walked there hours earlier. Jack, a good quiet dog and calm on the leash, sniffed, looked, sniffed and then trotted beside her. She tried to listen for human voices but the slight breeze through the leaves and the slight racing of her heart made any attempts futile. Claire and Jack walked a little farther. She commented to him, "This is my life: deserted and now deserted in the middle of a county park." Soon, however, panic landed in her gut with a thud. She forced herself to get a feel for the path, where it turned, where it dipped, where there might be a possibility of a fall or a detour by the father and son. It was a beautiful section of woods with tall oak and some pine and today the blue sky and sunlight filtered through thick leaves and needles. But it was just empty space that yielded nothing for her search. She didn't look at her watch, yet she knew time was ticking, mercilessly ticking by. She wanted to scream as anger returned once again: "How could you do this to me, Jeff? "Instead, she tried to focus on the crunch of last year's leaves on the path. She felt concern again, am I panicking too soon?

Then, she caught herself. Selfish, uncaring bitch, her little voice chimed. Here she'd been annoyed, irritated, feeling victimized but what if, what if Jeff and Jonathan had been hurt? She and Jack followed the path down to the wide creek, reported as deep and with currents too strong to cross on foot or even for attempts to wade. She could see the two lane country road on the other side as well as a little General Store, a gas station, some sort of shop and a restaurant, right before the creek and road made a turn to the south. Everything else in her line of sight was dense, dark forest. She and Jack retraced their steps back toward the camp grounds. On the way she noted another path to their right. They followed it, probably for a mile, until the little stream at the edge of the camp grounds emptied into the larger creek. She remembered Jeff saying there was a little bridge farther down and after that, a mile or two of more trails. She hesitated to continue further. She hesitated to return to the camper. She simply hesitated there at the confluence of the waters. She felt totally alone and totally responsible for what might have happened.

Claire was beginning to get a mental picture of the layout of the park. Jeff's camper was parked on what she came to visualize as a peninsula. Campers faced the little stream whose name she couldn't remember though Jeff had told her many times. Behind that parking area were the trails extending to the wide creek. Further south the little stream and the deep creek met. Four hundred acres of pristine wilderness with trails, the park brochure had boosted. She remembered reading that reservations were necessary and parking for campers was limited, maybe 10 she thought, and even the number of allowed hikers at any given time was not huge. After all, she told herself it was not a large or national park. On the way back to Jeff's camper, she suddenly felt exhilaration. "Jack, I bet they're back at the camper wondering where you and I might be." She exhaled. "I hope they're worried. It serves them right. I just bet they forgot the time and were snapping pictures and talking." She picked up her pace and Jack trotted alongside with his stubby tail wagging furiously. Upon reaching Jeff's old but remodeled camper, her giddiness was dashed. There was no sign of them. She started to cry but rallied as she saw other campers around their vehicles. "I have to look competent when I approach them." She told herself, not like a blathering idiot, not like an old blathering idiot who has lost my companion and his son.

Some of the campers were relaxing near their RVs while other seemed to be preparing to cook. She noted the time. It was almost 4:30. Though it was still summer, but moving toward late summer, she worried that it was getting dark earlier and earlier. She felt pressed to do something, anything: to inquire, to report, and to do this before dusk. Once Jack was secured in the camper with his favorite toy, she walked the line of campers. There were five parked with distances of about 50 feet between them on the side toward the park lands and about four spread out a little more toward the park entrance. She was able to contact at least one person from each camper. Some remembered the man and the young boy, as they referred to Jonathan, leaving very early in the morning. Most said they hadn't seen them on their hikes or on their way to the fishing area. Others claimed not to have seen them since the camp fire with the marshmallow roasts the night before. That was on the evening that the threesome plus dog had arrived. Claire didn't know where the fishing area was but she felt Jeff wouldn't go where there might be people. He wanted pictures of pristine nature. Her acquaintance from the morning, Rose, was very direct. "Honey, you go to the Park Office and report them missing right away. Why goodness knows, they could be hurt and in need of medical support."

She felt she was rushing around like a contestant on some old game show: running from one door of hidden surprises and prizes to another. But hers were doors behind which fear, panic, anger, desperation and confusion were being discovered. She gave Jack a soft chew and locked the camper. The walk to the Park Office wasn't long. It was down the short line of campers and RVs toward the entrance and next to the building that housed the showers and the laundromat. Her foolishness in coming on this trip and her incompetence in this park-situation swirled inside her head and no words would come. Claire had never been at a loss for words but at this moment her tongue felt thick and her brain encased in fog. She knew she...