“Rafe, look...” She was probably just seeing things. “Is that a trail over there? Leading to that cliff face across the way?”
When he came up beside her, she turned red. Hot. Embarrassed that she’d just been seeing things. Of course there was no...
“I’m not sure,” he said. “If it is, it’s covered over with all of those tumbleweeds.”
“Yeah.” She’d been overreacting.
To him. Which clouded her normally spot-on thinking. She could feel his body heat. He was that close. And could smell him, too.
It wasn’t possible that a boy of thirteen would carry the same scent as a man of thirty-six. Logically, she knew that. Her olfactory nerves were out of control.
“It’s kind of funny, though, that they’re all conglomerated around that one area, don’t you think?” She had to say something, even if it was stupid. Better than standing there letting the past take control of her present. Ruin her present.
“Not if the wind blew them. They stopped there because of the cliff face...”
Something sounded behind them. A crunch of something heavy on the hard ground. Hand to her gun, Kerry froze. If it was a bear, or, more likely, a mountain lion, their greatest hope was to keep it calm. To pray that it didn’t charge them before she could turn and get a shot off.
“What’re you two doin’ up ’ere?”
Not recognizing the voice, yet relieved to know that their intruder was human, Kerry spun around, her gun steady and pointing forward.
“Hey there...put that thing down. You ain’t s’posed to be huntin’ up here...”
The man was older than both of them by a good ten years. Maybe more. Rough looking and wearing a forest ranger uniform. Dropping her gun, she reached into her back pocket for her badge wallet.
“I’m Detective Kerry Wilder,” she said, aware of Rafe right behind her as she approached the man, showing him her identification.
“Yes’m, I know who you are,” the man said, pulling out his own ID. “Grant Alvin,” he said. “My wife and I transferred in with the Forest Service about five years ago. Used to be up at the Grand Canyon,” he said.
Kerry knew some of the forest rangers in the area by sight. Not all. Those near Mustang Valley usually lived in remote, government housing, someplace in national forest territory. And unless there was a matter in MVPD’s jurisdiction, they didn’t really cross paths.
But if he’d been in the area for five years... Shouldn’t someone have talked to him about Tyler’s death? She hadn’t seen his name in any reports. Getting excited as she faced a possible new lead, she said, “I’m investigating my brother’s death.” She named Tyler and gave the man the date and time of death that the coroner had given two years ago.
Staying silent, Rafe stood right beside her, like he was poised to jump to her defense at any moment. Fancy clothes and all. Like his slippery shoes would get anywhere near as far as her well-worn cowboy boots.
Still, she was glad he was there. If the ranger had been a bear—if she’d been about to die—having Rafe there, dying with him...
“You lookin’ at that old case agin?” Alvin looked at her like she was cow dung. “It was an accident. They all said so.”
“Maybe it was,” Kerry acknowledged, not wanting to get on the wrong side of the Forest Service. “I’d just like to be sure.”
“Seems like there’d be more important stuff for you to be doin’,” the somewhat-large man said, holding his ground, his arms crossed against his chest.
“I’m doing this in my own time,” she told him. And then asked, “You said you’ve been in the area for five years.”
“That’s right.”
“And you patrol this mountain?”
“Sometimes. Depends.”
“Were you here two years ago?”
“Off and on.”
“You ever notice any suspicious activity?”
“No.”