Free Zero-Degree Murder (A Search and Rescue Mystery) by M.L. Rowland Page B

in the dirt and argued about what to do.
    Milocek’s hand moved to the knife at his waist. He itched to pull it out.
    There had been a time when he would have taken on two adversaries at once. But years of fast food and living the anonymous civilian life in America had made him soft, flabby, had reduced his stamina and dulled his reflexes. He would have to wait for the right moment and take them one at a time.
    His hand dropped from the knife.
    He watched the rescuers leave the trail to follow the path down into the canyon.
    The tracks the woman searcher had found confirmed what logic had already told him—that Diana was hiding still farther up the trail.
    Milocek considered his dilemma. Should he go after Diana? Or should he follow the searchers who might lead him to Rob?
    The razor-edged knife blade sliced easily through the green plastic ribbon the searcher had tied to the branches of a bush next to the trail. Milocek gathered up the multiple strands and stuffed them into his jacket pocket.

CHAPTER

20
     
    R ALPH sat at the green metal desk in the Command Post. The HT lay inches from his left elbow, the volume turned up all the way so he wouldn’t miss the tiniest hint of a transmission.
    The wind outside buffeted the rickety trailer, sucking heat out through invisible cracks and seams and forcing Ralph to wear his Gore-Tex parka, wool hat, and fingerless wool gloves to stay warm.
    Half an hour earlier, David Montoya, the deputy on-scene, had knocked on the trailer door to notify Ralph that Carlos Sanchez had been reached on his cell phone. He and his wife, Cristina, had in fact checked out of the hotel in town and were driving on the 10 Freeway to their home in Santa Monica.
    Montoya had also handed Ralph a piece of paper on which he had scribbled basic information obtained from a check of license plates of the vehicles in the trailhead lot.
    The chair creaked as Ralph leaned back to study the information. The motor home and one of the cars, a Cadillac Escalade, had been rented the week before by the production company. A second car, a 2008 Toyota Corolla belonged to one of the MisPers: Joseph Van Dijk of Riverside. The third, a late model Ford Mustang convertible, belonged to one of the RPs: Michael Benjamin of Brentwood. Nothing much pertinent to the search.
    Ralph didn’t like searching without reliable physical descriptions of the missing persons. In a few minutes, he decided, he would walk over to the Tahoe and talk to Montoya again to see what the deputy could do about obtaining more information on each of the MisPers. It might take a little time, but what else did the man have to do while sitting in his unit all night long?
    Ralph switched his thoughts to the Sanchez couple. The fact that they had driven down the hill was significant to the search in that it definitively narrowed the number of MisPers from six to four.
    He needed to notify his search team.
    Ralph lifted the HT to his mouth. “Tracking One. Command Post.”
    No response.
    “Tracking One. Command Post.”
    Still no response.
    They’re in a dead spot, Ralph thought. He would have to wait until they called in.
    Gracie and Cashman had radioed in the coordinates of their location at regular intervals since they had left the Command Post. It had been almost ninety minutes since their last transmission.
    In the rugged terrain, with no repeater high or close enough to catch the team’s signal and rebroadcast it back to the CP, long radio silences were to be expected. There wasn’t a damned thing Ralph could do about it except assume his team would radio in when they were able.
    Ralph pulled a crumpled pack of Marlboro Lights from his parka and drew out one of four remaining cigarettes. He had started smoking again when Eleanor had been diagnosed with late-stage breast cancer. Throughout the long ordeal, he had managed to keep it below half a pack a day. Now, six years after her death, he was finally trying to quit.
    He stuck the unlit cigarette in