Chapter 4 - The Hidden ShortcutWithin two hours, Frank called Natalie back with startling news.
"You were right, Nat," Frank said, his voice tense. "Vance Infrastructure owns a fleet of work trucks—including three black Ford F-250s. And get this: one of those trucks was reported 'stolen' from their yard early Friday morning, right after Andrew disappeared."
"They're staging a cover-up," Natalie realized. "Vance’s people followed Andrew down Route 9 onto Blackwood Ravine. They knew he was going to turn him in."
Natalie didn't wait for authorization. She drove straight to Blackwood Ravine.
The road was desolate, winding through steep pine forests and rugged cliffs. Rain from the past four days had turned the gravel shoulders into dangerous, muddy banks. Natalie drove slowly, her eyes scanning every inch of the guardrails and dense underbrush.
Near the midpoint of the ravine road lay the abandoned Oakridge Lime Quarry—a hollowed-out expanse of concrete, rusty machinery, and flooded drainage vaults. The area was off-limits, surrounded by faded warning signs.
Natalie stopped her patrol vehicle near a bend in the road where the wooden guardrail looked splintered and freshly broken. She stepped out into the damp air and shone her heavy-duty flashlight down the steep, overgrown embankment.
Deep in the ravine, partially hidden under fallen tree branches and thick mud, a metallic blue glare caught her eye.
"I found it," Natalie breathed into her shoulder radio. "I’ve got a vehicle off the road near the old quarry. Calling in search and rescue!"
Natalie scrambled down the muddy slope, slipping on wet leaves and rock until she reached the wreckage.
It was Andrew’s blue sedan. The driver’s side door was caved in as if it had been rammed at high speed by a heavy vehicle. The windshield was shattered, and the car had tumbled fifty feet down into the ravine, landing upside down against a concrete drainage culvert.
Natalie pulled out her flashlight and peered inside the crushed cabin.
The driver's seat was empty.
Blood spatters coated the deployed airbag and the steering wheel, but Andrew wasn't inside. On the floorboard lay a crushed pharmacy bag containing the shattered bottle of Amoxicillin and the electrolyte drink.
"He survived the crash," Natalie gasped, tracking faint, dragging footprints in the mud leading away from the wreck toward the dark entrance of the quarry's underground drainage network. "He was injured, but he tried to walk back to Ashley..."
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Suddenly, the crunch of gravel echoing from the road above made Natalie freeze.
She looked up through the trees. A black pickup truck had just pulled up near her patrol car, blocking her path back up the cliff. Two heavy-set men in dark rain jackets stepped out, holding flashlights—and carrying sidearms.
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