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Back The Forgotten Save as PDF
Chapters (45)
  1. Cover
  2. FAYE KELLERMAN
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. Acknowledgments
  43. About the Author
  44. Also by Faye Kellerman
  45. About the Publisher

The young man’s smile turned into a grin. “I’ll write you from the wilderness. Send you a postcard by carrier pigeon.”

Decker laughed. “Good luck!”

After he had left, Decker realized that he almost liked the boy. And he did wish him well. Which was why he felt sickened to the core when he caught the call.

15

It was a short hop from residential real estate to woodlands, from homes and civilization to what once was the dominant terrain of the Southern California mountains. Hills abloom with early summer wildflowers—a palette of deep lilacs, sun-kissed yellows, and a spectrum of greens. Mervin Baldwin ran his back-to-nature camp a few miles into the region where the knolls segued into rocky peaks and the unruly vegetation was lush and thick through endless wilderness. The solidly built, teenage boys whom Baldwin claimed as his clients could walk back to the strip malls in just a few hours, and often they did. Eventually, they were found, reclaimed, and given even more duties to make up for their truancies. Mervin Baldwin found it exhilarating as well as redeeming that these boys could negotiate and navigate their ways from foreign territory back to home base.

He would exhilarate no more. Mervin Baldwin, along with Ernesto Golding, was dead.

The sun had just jumped over the horizon, but was still low enough to cause that blinding postdawn glare. It was a little past six in the morning, and Decker had already finished a thermos of coffee. Usually, he depended on a brisk workout on the treadmill to get the heart started, but today it was a chemical rush that kicked the system into action.

He drove a Jeep Cherokee, once black, but now turned charcoal thanks to a layer of fine-grained dust. Driving up a gravel road until it dead-ended, he then switched into four-wheel drive and took the Jeep off-road up the stony incline. The SUV bounced and bumped, the motor straining as it neared the Baldwin campsite. Within moments, official vehicles and uniformed people came into view, their vehicles taking up the precious level ground. Decker maneuvered the Jeep about fifty yards to the left, where he found a relatively clear patch to park, but it left the wheels at a slant. He got out with great caution. Below him was a hundred feet of rock, not a sheer drop, but if he were to fall, he’d get pretty banged up from rolling downward.