"We should check the forest, in case sparks spread to fire there."
"It couldn't have..." He catches my look and nods. "Right. Yeah. Should make sure."
"You head on in. I'll run over and tell them you'll make a statement later."
It's dawn now, which would make a lovely sunrise as we head east ... if we weren't surrounded by towering evergreens. As it is, it's a peaceful walk, the early morning light seeping through. I think we're wandering aimlessly. Of course, we aren't. Dalton leads me to a fallen tree, one so big I need to jump up to perch on top of it.
I unhook the backpack I brought and take out two beers, wrapped in a towel.
"I snagged these from the station," I say. "We haven't slept, so technically it's not morning yet."
He takes one with a grunted thanks. We drink, staring out at the forest.
"Do you know Val was attacked out here?" I say. "Shortly after she arrived?"
"What?"
"She got separated--"
"Yeah, I remember. I wasn't part of the patrol party, but I helped search. She wandered off, got lost, and showed up in the morning."
"After being attacked by two men. Hostiles, I suspect, given her description. She said they threatened to teach her a lesson about trespassing and then fell asleep, letting her escape."
He looks over, frowning.
"They didn't fall asleep after threatening her. Not right away, at least."
He exhales. "Fuck."
"Yes, but she denies it, and we need to let her keep that delusion for now. But it explains why she hates this place and why she stays in the house. And partially why she doesn't trust you. You're connected to this forest. To the place that hurt her. To the men who hurt her. It isn't logical, but I get the impression that Val likes her compartments. Everyone fits neatly into one."
"Yeah." He stretches his legs. "I've always known she doesn't like me much. It's worse than that, isn't it?"
"Val's a bitch," I say. "What happened to her is horrible, but it doesn't make her less of a bitch."
"Nah. She doesn't have the spine to be a bitch. I wish she did, because that would be something I could fight. This?" He shakes his head. "Makes me feel like a dog barking at a dishcloth snapping in the wind. It might annoy the hell out of me, but barking at it doesn't do any good."
A few minutes of silence, and then I say, "It's bullshit, threatening to kick you out. They never would. They need you."
He shrugs.
"Seriously," I say. "No one would want to lose you."
"Locals, you mean. They're the ones who have to live here, and as much shit as I give them, they know this place needs hardcore law and order. But the council doesn't have to live in Rockton."
"While I still don't think they'd ever kick you out, it might help to have a plan B. To imagine what you'd do in the worst scenario. So you feel you have some control."
"I already know what I'd do."
"And it doesn't help?"
"Nope. Because I don't want to do it. It's just the only option. For me."
That's all he says. I'm curious, of course, but I know to keep my distance, too. We sit there, drinking, until he points his bottle at the forest and says, "I'd go there."
"Live in the forest?"
He tenses, as if he's assessing my tone. After a moment, he relaxes. "Yeah. There's nothing for me down south."