One Mile Under

But when Dani was sixteen, a miscarriage made her mom depressed, and then she started getting headaches. And Wade, whose self-destructive nature took over, stopped taking the kids fishing and camping and started coming home drunk—from parties he used to call his “public responsibilities,” but then seemed to turn into all the time. Once he totaled his car and another time he got into a public fight with one of his officers right in the middle of town. He went into the program—even went away once for a month—but then he started using stronger stuff, which only came out much later, and which came to a head when he pilfered a couple of hundred OxyContin tablets from his own police evidence locker. By then it had all fallen apart for him and he was forced to resign. Her mother grew worse and worse, and Dani took a semester off to care for her. But in Dani’s sophomore year, Judy just suddenly seemed to give up and died. Complications from the disease, it was called. Her mom was taking her own share of medication back then, and Wade was mostly at his worst, and not much of a caregiver. But Dani still always pictured her in her mind, smiling and pretty, braiding Dani’s long, curly hair and singing “Sweet Baby James” and John Denver songs with her, with those Colorado blue eyes. Dani even tattooed an “Ai,” the Chinese symbol for love, on her shoulder, with her mother’s initials.

So maybe Dani did always blame Wade a bit for her demise. Or at least, for not helping. Dani was in the process of transferring back to Boulder when her mom just fell off a cliff. For years Dani blamed herself for not having been there at the end. The suddenness had taken everyone by surprise. Wade may not have actually killed her; Dani had finally come to terms with that. But his own problems surely sapped the strength out of her and helped her to decline.

Dani drove along the river to the spot at the Cradle where Trey was found, which was now blocked off by tape with a Pitkin County police van parked there. She continued down about a half mile to a spot they called the Funnel, where the various currents fed into a narrow channel, about a quarter mile up from the ford, where the rapids tour ended.

She parked in a small turnout on the side of the road. She knew the narrow pathway that led down to the river, which this far down was wider than upstream, but not much more than a rocky, shallow bed on each side. She knew this river like the back of her hand. She knew the currents, where they fed. As a kid, she had once lost a backpack in the current all the way back above the Falls, and weeks later she found where it had ended up.

At the Funnel. Here.

Dani climbed down through the brush and onto the shoreline. The alluvial currents here had widened out a deep gorge in the aspens and firs. She knew it was kind of like finding a needle in a haystack. Without even knowing if the needle was even hidden here. She saw a beer can glinting among the rocks. A flip-flop sandal was nearby, which must have slipped off someone’s foot. A waterlogged Penn tennis ball. She kicked over an empty can of beans, stepping over the small, loose rocks. Because of the depth, the water color changed here from a clear blue and white to a musty gray.

It wasn’t around.

She kneeled in the shallow bed, disappointed. It was kind of a long shot anyway. If it had washed down, she was pretty certain it would have ended up here.

She scanned the opposite side before going back up to her car.

Something glinted. Nothing more than a fleck of color amid the rocks on the shoals. Across the stream.

White.

The river was shallow here and easy to ford. Except for the narrow channel in the middle that was still about two feet deep where you could still traverse a raft. Dani went in in her shorts and Tevas and made her way across. About thirty yards. Her sandals gripped the silty river floor, water rushing by her knees. The current was mild here. No threat of being swept away. Not like what she had to go through to get to Trey.

She crossed toward the object she’d seen, which was nestled amid the rocks.

Whatever hope she had that she’d found something faded.

All it turned out to be was just a white plastic drink container. She bent down, picked it up and tossed it farther off the riverbed into the brush. Probably someone’s water container that had fallen overboard. It could have been sitting here for months.

Maybe Wade was right. It was possible Trey had been just riding recklessly and hit his head against a rock. It’s possible he wasn’t wearing a helmet. Maybe Rooster did just make it all up—for the attention. To be the big shot. Anyway, it was now all kind of moot. Both Trey and Ron were gone. She’d never know, though something still inside her said—

Something farther along the shoreline caught her eye. Half submerged amid the vegetation along the shore. She went over, the black composite almost completely blending in with the gunmetal water and dark green vines.

She picked it up by the strap. It was a little scuffed, beaten up from its ride downstream, bouncing off rock after rock.

Her heart started to race.

Trey’s helmet.

But it wasn’t dented. Dented in the way it would have been if its wearer had sustained blunt-force trauma to the head.

Which had to mean one thing. That it hadn’t been on Trey at the time he sustained his injury. If he’d cracked it with enough force to kill him you would have surely been able to see it. Holding the black helmet, Dani knew that had to mean something, right?

Her blood surged. So she wasn’t wrong, at least, not about that part. Trey had been wearing it.

So maybe she wasn’t so wrong about all the rest of it, either.

CHAPTER TEN

Back in her car, following the river back upstream, she searched for the spot above the lower Cradle where she had found Trey’s body.

The road narrowed there, barely wide enough for two cars to pass, with dense brush crowding in from both sides. The aspens and pines were so tall here Dani could barely see the sky. She came up to the clearing where the rescue vehicles converged when they pulled Trey out. It hadn’t rained since, and tire tracks and footprints were still visible all over the dirt road.

Dani heard the roar of the river slashing against the rocks below.

It was clear, even in just Class Two or Three rapids, that Trey couldn’t have just nested to a stop here. His raft must have been carried down from farther upstream and come to rest in the eddy. She heard Rooster saying, You didn’t see what I saw. He wasn’t alone. Now she was even more certain he hadn’t been lying.

But just what did that mean?

Had someone been along with him on his run? That wouldn’t be hard to determine. The ranger station would know. But if it was all just a terrible accident, surely that person would have called it in. And if so, they surely wouldn’t have taken such a lethal reprisal against Ron in the balloon.

No, it had to be something else. It wasn’t no accident out there … Someone had to have stopped him.

The police vehicle was gone now. Dani made her way down the slope to the ridge above the river and scanned upstream. The cold spray off Baby’s Rattle lashed at her, the sun glinting off her shades. It was possible that someone else had climbed down here and intercepted him on the river. But that would’ve had to have happened farther upstream. Or they’d have to have made their way down along the shoreline in between the first two rapids of the Cradle where the currents slowed a bit, in order for his body to have ended up here.

There were rocks in the river near where Trey was found. The Raptor’s Teeth, they were called. Three sharp, pointed rocks that protruded out of the water, four to five feet high. If Trey had sustained a crash hard enough to cause his death, surely his helmet would show the impact. And it didn’t. So how did it come off? How did it end up all the way downstream?

Dani followed the rapids from the high rocks, twenty or thirty feet above the river. She had to climb up and then down in order to follow the edge, but she was pretty nimble, having done her share of trekking and climbing in these hills. Once or twice, she even had to jump from one height down to another in her Tevas. If she stumbled she could easily fall in and hit her head or break a bone and be carried away. It was slow work; it took about ten minutes to climb a hundred yards.

Finally she made it to the Teeth. It was calm enough here for Trey to have been pulled over by someone. If a person had come out, pretending to need help. Or with a gun maybe. Yes, it could have happened here, Dani imagined. But why …? It was Trey. Why would someone have wanted to kill him?

She turned and looked back up the shore toward the road, and spotted something in the woods.

The narrowest pathway, which seemed to cut through the thick brush, barely wide enough to even be called a path. Barely wide enough for just a single person. It wound down directly above Baby’s Rattle, the second rapid in the Cradle, right above the Raptor’s Teeth.

So someone could have climbed down there from here.

Curious, Dani went back and followed the narrow path from the river’s edge back up the slope toward the road. Thorny branches slapped in her face and scraped against her bare arms and legs. She was no scout or tracker, but she had the feeling someone had been here recently.

As she neared the road, she noticed something. She kneeled, sweating slightly in the sun, peeling back leaves and crushed branches on the ground to see.

It was like a small clearing had been made. Low branches were flattened against the ground, within a few yards from the road.

Not by hand, she could tell. It looked as if it was done by the front wheels of a vehicle.

So someone might well have been here.

She cleared away some of the leaves and brush on the ground. There were tire tracks. Something had pulled in—and whoever was in it had continued from the road via that pathway down to the Cradle.

To the very spot where Trey had been killed.

Her blood surged with vindication. It didn’t prove a thing. Any more than finding the helmet did.

It didn’t prove that Rooster was right. That, it wasn’t no accident out there …

But he was damn well right on one thing.

Trey hadn’t been alone yesterday morning. Someone had definitely been here.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Who the hell would want to kill Trey?” Wade screwed up his eyes, staring at the helmet Dani dropped on his desk.

“I don’t know who’d want to kill him. But I told you he was wearing a helmet and he was. You see any significant dents on it anywhere? Don’t you think if he received a head injury severe enough to kill him, there’d be some evidence on it somewhere?”

Wade’s response was laced with impatience and rising frustration. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to think.” He took off his glasses and looked it over. “And you’re saying this proves what …?”

“It proves he wasn’t wearing it when he sustained his head injury. And the next question would be, Wade, how do you explain it coming off?”

“Don’t teach me my job, Danielle. And I don’t know how the hell it came off. Maybe he hit his head aside a rock. Maybe he took it off himself for some reason. To breathe. To take a leak for all I know. But this is all starting to cross the line. You’re coming to me with this helmet, claiming it was Trey’s, and that someone made their way down the rocks and then did what, lay in wait for him, to kill him …? Not even knowing for certain if he’d even be there.”

“I know how it sounds. But Trey did a seven A.M. run a couple of times a week, so it wasn’t a long shot that he’d be there. And I was looking around on the ridge above where I think it all might have happened and I found something else.”

“You did …?” Wade’s look of impatience was now amped up into the range of exasperation. “Surprise me, Danielle.”

“I found a path. In the brush above the river. Leading back to the road. From exactly the spot where Trey had to have been killed.”

“You mean where you think he had his accident, Dani. And if I need to remind you, there are paths all over the heights above that river. You and I have been through dozens of them. I don’t see what one more proves.”

“This one leads directly from the road to the spot just above the Baby’s Rattle.”

“The Baby’s Rattle …?”

“It’s a rapid on the upper Cradle where I think Trey was killed. Look, I know how it sounds, Wade. But I also found fresh tire marks near the road where that particular path came out.”

“Dani.”

“Which means someone else was there, and—”

“Dani!” She stopped. Wade sat back down. “We’re dealing with a lot here. And this is starting to strain my nerves. Someone kills Trey in the river and then sabotages your pal Ron’s balloon to keep it covered up?”

“He’s not my pal, Wade. He wasn’t even a friend. But that’s not even the point. The point is … I don’t know what it is …” She sat down, trying to lay out her argument with everything swimming around crazily in her head. “The point is we all know Trey could have done that run with his eyes closed. So how does he just upend, lose his helmet, crack his head. And then couple that with what Rooster saw …?”

“What he claimed to see …”

“What he saw, Wade. He knew exactly what Trey was wearing. And with Trey’s helmet not being on him … and those fresh tire marks on this path. I just think it’s something worth looking into. If you’re not so interested, maybe someone at the Aspen Times might be. Or Sheriff Warrick.”

Wade stared back at her, and this time with a lot more than merely frustration. “You must be kidding, young lady.”

“I’m not kidding, Wade.”

“You know what you’re saying?”

“I’m just saying someone else might find this all adds up to something. Enough to look into. Did you check the balloon?”

“This is really starting to cross the line for me. Did we check the balloon for what?”

“I don’t know. For anything that looked … suspicious.”

Wade glared. “Course we checked it, Dani. Teams of people who know what the hell they’re doing have been over it all day. The outer fabric is pretty much a burnt-out mess. And what are we looking for anyway? A rip? A tear? If what you’re suggesting is true, some person sure went to an awful lot of trouble and risk to cover up the death of a basically broke, adrenaline-junkie, joy rider.”

“What about a bullet? That could have caused it, right? It could have torn right through.”

“You’re starting to sound crazy now.”

“All I’m asking is if anyone heard what may have been a shot going off nearby?”

Wade stood up again, came over to her, and sat himself on the edge of his desk. “What the hell is it about this, Danielle? This has gone too far. I know he was a friend. I know there are parts of all this that don’t somehow add up to you. But no one else is seeing it that way. What they’re seeing is a guy who may have gotten a bit too reckless and maybe misgauged how much water there was out there, which is exactly what the investigator the Parks Service sent agreed it was today.”

“I know that river, Wade. No one knows it better than me—”

“But you’re not a cop, Dani. You’re a river guide. A smart one, maybe, but you’re way overreaching here. And when you say silly things like you just did, about bringing in the press, more than they already are, it’s starting to strain my patience to even listen to you. There are families coming here to retrieve their loved ones and there’s zero tangible evidence to get everyone riled up that says it’s anything other than two tragic, but unrelated events.”

Dani stood up. Frustration ran heatedly through her blood, too. It all made sense to her, at least to a point. But Wade had one thing right. One thing she couldn’t answer. Trey wasn’t exactly the type to have enemies, so why, why would anyone want to do this to him?

Wade’s shoulders sagged and he let out a resigned breath. “I tell you what …”

“What?”

“I’ll talk to Allie.” Trey’s wife. “I’ll see if there was any reason anyone would want to do him harm. Not that I believe there was, you hear me saying. But that’s a start, right?”

Dani looked at him. The blood eased out of her face. She nodded. “You could check out those tire marks, too,” she added. Then finally she gave him an accepting and contrite shrug, even a smile. “Yes. It’s a start. Thanks.”

“All right then. But the only reason I’m even agreeing to this is for you to stay out of it from this point on. No more detective, okay? It’s getting people riled up. Especially me. We’re opening the river back up tomorrow. Please, get your ass back on it.”

Dani nodded again, against her better instincts. “Just ask her, okay?”

“And I don’t want to hear any more threats about taking this to someone. Or I’m gonna have to figure out something else, Dani. To keep you out of it. We agree?”

“What do you mean by something else, Wade?”

“I don’t know. Just don’t. Understand? I need you to promise me.”

She looked at him. “Rooster wasn’t drunk, Wade. He knew what Trey was wearing. He saw something. He just didn’t feel he could bring it to you.”

“I said I need you to promise me, Dani …”

Her face was still flushed and red. She kept looking at him and he didn’t know what she was going to say. Then she finally nodded, the air going out of her cheeks. “All right. I promise.” She reached for the helmet.

Wade put his hand on it. “Where do you think you’re going with that?”

“Trey’s wife. It was his. She may want it.”

“Sorry.” He pulled it over to his side of the desk. “That’s evidence. It stays with me.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Later, in an oversize Bowdoin T-shirt and sweat pants, Dani sat polishing off the last of a beer, her second, Blu curled up on the kilim rug in front of the TV.

“What is all this about, Dani …?”

There were a couple of messages from Geoff that she hadn’t returned. The first was business: “Okay to do the bus leg on the afternoon run tomorrow and give Rob a chance to guide?” The second was more personal. “Look, is everything all right, Dani? You’ve been a little distant since Trey. We haven’t spent any time together, and you kind of brushed me off the other night. I know you’re upset. I’d like to come by tonight if that’s all right. We could catch a bite. Or I could give you the ol’ down-under back rub and we could catch up on a couple of episodes of House of Cards …”

She started to text him back that she just wasn’t feeling up to it tonight.

She really didn’t want to make trouble. And not with Wade. It was true, he hadn’t been much of a husband to her mom. There were always rumors of him screwing around and he didn’t exactly shine with compassion when she deteriorated and really needed him. By that time he was either too drunk or too stoned to be of much help; then he was let go from the Aspen sheriff’s office and had to call in every favor he was owed not to have been brought up on criminal charges.

But he’d always been nice to Dani. Growing up, he was like one of those larger-than-life figures who would come in your life every once in a while and was always involved in fun, cool stuff. He took her camping and riding. He introduced her to famous people as “his little girl.” Then he’d go on a binge. She’d gone to a few Al-Anon meetings and the part about how addicts weren’t even in control always hit home. Wade was at the top of the list. The only parts of his personality stronger than his charm and charisma were his urges to be temperamental and self-destructive. Dani had tried to forgive him for being such a shitty husband to her mom. And at times maybe she had. And then sometimes his betrayals and constant pushing her mom away when she needed him most crushed her and broke her will. The same will everyone said they saw in Dani.

But now this was Wade’s last chance in life, and it was clear he didn’t want to rock the boat. To Dani, the mosaic all fit together. Trey. The Cradle. The path that seemed to have been made down there from the road. Rooster claiming he saw something and then his balloon crashing down in flames. Maybe she couldn’t prove any part of it, but it was all there for anyone to see if they wanted to take a look. She knew she was pushing the line with him. Wade didn’t like to be crossed and he surely didn’t like his authority questioned. Not in this job, which was the last rung on the ladder for him. And maybe Dani had made him look small to his staff.

But she couldn’t just walk away from it. She couldn’t just pretend it was all just some unrelated incident so the Chamber of Commerce could still brag about what an idyllic valley they lived in here.

What’s this all about? Wade had asked of her.

She got up and went out to the deck. The moon was bright. The crickets were buzzing. The sky was dark and wide, the shadow of Mount Sopris looming in the distance. It was like you could see every star on the sky.

She sat in the Adirondack chair and put her feet up on the railing and swigged her beer. Blu shuffled out and curled up at her feet.

She wasn’t about to stop, no matter what Wade had made her promise. How could he understand? She owed Trey. She owed him big.

Maybe everything.

They were on the upper Colorado River in Gore Canyon, two Aprils ago. There were four of them. Chase Gould and Tom Twilliger, both expert rafters. The lure was the biggest early spring runoff in years, over a thousand cubic feet per second coming down the river, which turned a Class Four into a Five, and a Five into sheer heaven.

Trey heard about and he called Dani and they decided to join in. They packed up their gear in Chase’s truck and made the ninety-minute drive to Kremmling. Gore was an unspoiled mountain canyon, lined with snowcapped mountains and jagged cliffs. The three-mile rapid run through it had some of the most challenging whitewater in the country.

Dani had done the run once before, but never with so much water. It started out moderate: Applesauce and Sweet Dreams, easy Class Threes, just to stick your toe in the water, as they say. The gems were up next. Scissors, which could cut anyone up or flip you over, and Pirate, with its deep holes and rocks the size of buildings, and a ton of water slashing around. It wasn’t just good technique that got you down; this run was also about strength. In the hardest water Dani had ever had to push around. There were plenty of yelps and whoops of exhilaration, paddles raised triumphantly at every chute they made it through.

Then they hit Tunnel Falls.

Most people do Gore Canyon for the Kirshbaum, a half-mile narrow chute of rocks and holes with a 120-foot vertical that builds up the speed like a raceway. But the Falls is its signature rapid. Massive rocks on both sides of a narrow chute and then over a twelve-foot drop. You have to navigate through it at just the right line; otherwise it’s a headfirst wipeout. Guaranteed.

And that was with half the water the four of them had that day.

Chase was up first. The best and most experienced of them. He’d won a few competitions. The basin at the bottom of the falls had a ton of water thrashing about in it. He hit it just like they drew it up, the rest of them looking on from thirty yards upstream. He disappeared over the edge, spray and foam exploding around him, and from where they were they had no idea. And then ten seconds later they saw him reappear fifty yards downstream, his paddle raised high, his ecstatic whoops drowned out by the turbulent water’s roar.

“Whoooiieee!” Trey lifted his paddle in appreciation. They all cheered.

Tom was up next. He was no slouch himself. In his red helmet and yellow raft, the back of his craft careened into a rock just as he went over and he didn’t hit it right.