Chapter 18
Eighteen
Sloane
I haven’t seen Dan since yesterday morning.
I sent him a message last night when I was in bed, thanking him for picking up Mom, but as of earlier this morning, I haven’t heard anything either.
I’m sure he has his hands full at the house, after all, he took out part of his day to drive to Kalispell. Although, I have to admit, I had my eyes peeled this morning when I was leaving the ranch.
“Eckhart! In here,” Ewing calls when I walk by his office on my way out the door.
I left early to check in at the office to see if anything new had come in, before heading back out to Kenelty Mountain. Jillian is probably already on her way, so I’m eager to get out of here.
“Morning,” I say as I poke my head around his door.
“Are you on your way out?” Junior asks.
“I am. Back to the search today. I checked my emails, nothing from the lab, not that I was really expecting anything yet anyway,” I update him. “Any luck with the security feed from the Columbia Falls gas station?”
Ewing asked the local PD to look into obtaining a copy from the Exxon Chelsea was taken from.
“Yes, actually. They’re supposed to be sending through a copy today. I’ve got some meetings today, but I’ll see if I can get one of the deputies to have a look at it when it comes in.”
“If you do get it, can you forward the copy to me?”
“Will do. And keep me informed.”
I pop my head into Betty’s office to let her know where I’m going to be, before heading out. I’m about to get behind the wheel of the department truck with the ATV on the trailer still hitched, when I notice Deputy Schmidt pulling his cruiser into an empty space two parking spots down.
This is probably the end of his shift. I already saw Jason inside, finishing up his reports before going home. Those two are on the same shift.
Frank clearly sees me and shoots me a dirty look, which I pretend not to see as I lift my hand in a friendly wave. I’ll kill him with kindness.
On my drive to the trailhead, I replay my talk with Mom last night, which actually was quite cathartic. We remembered some good times, prior to Dad’s passing, and tackled a few major stumbling blocks we’d encountered since.
It’s funny what a difference it makes communicating when you’re not always in defensive mode. When you’re not working from the assumption the person across from you is your opponent. It’s not that I wasn’t aware of the chip on my shoulder, it’s that I felt it was justified.
But in talking with Mom last night, I realized each of us fed into the negative expectations the other had of us. I would blame the breakdown of communication on Mom, and she’d blame me for the same. In the end, it was both of us who were responsible for the erosion of our relationship.
When I finally hopped in the shower—right before bed—I felt wrung out, but a weight had definitely been lifted. Despite Aspen waking up twice, I felt like a new person this morning.
Jillian and Emo are waiting along with Bo, but I don’t see Wolff.
“Sorry I’m late. Hope you weren’t waiting too long.”
“We just got here a few minutes ago,” Jillian assures me.
“Wolff not with us today?” I ask Bo.
“No. Apparently there was some trouble at Dan’s new house yesterday and he is heading over this morning.”
My attention is piqued. “What trouble?”
“Some vandalism. Dan spent the night there and they’re trying to rig up some kind of security today.”
I guess that explains why I haven’t seen or heard from him.
I’m tempted to call and find out more, but I’m sure he has his hands full.
I’m actually bored.
Jillian and Emo have been down in the gorge for almost three hours and other than to check in over the radio from time to time, there hasn’t been much action.
I’m starting to worry this may have been a waste of time when the radio crackles to life.
“Slo…in……thing. Over.”
All I hear is half words and a lot of static.
“Jillian? Say again. Over”
For a moment there is nothing and when I glance over at Bo, I see he’s watching intently.
“Sloane? I found something. Over.”
My heart jumps in my chest as I shoot to my feet, and I immediately join Bo, who is already bent over the grid map we have spread out on a tree stump.
“What’d you find? Over.”
“Remains. More than one body. They’ve been here a while. I think you should come down. The area is surrounded by rock walls on three sides. I had to walk back to get through on the radio. Over.”
Jesus. More than one? How many bodies are down here?
“Can you give us a location on the grid? Over.”
“Northeast corner of the third grid. On the satellite image it should look almost like a tributary, an arm off the gorge itself. From what I can see at the base of it, most of the top is tree-covered, but there looks to be a small section where the rock is exposed at the top. Maybe that’s visible on satellite. Over.”
Bo marks the approximate location she indicated on the map with a small stone. Then he unfolds the printout of the satellite image and places it beside the map. It’s a printout, so the resolution isn’t great, but it’s easy to locate the branch of the gorge on the image, and a sliver of white is visible through the trees. That must be the top of the cliff she’s referring to. Bo places a pebble on the satellite image as well.
“Jillian, where are you now? Over.”
“Back at the southwest corner of the grid where I started. Over.”
I blow out a sharp breath through pursed lips. I’m not sure if it’s adrenaline or fear—perhaps a combination of both—but my body feels like it’s vibrating.
“Wait for me there. I’m on my way. Over and out.”
Bo is looking at me with a dubious look on his face.
“What?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“I have to go down there. It’s my job,” I remind him.
“I know it is, but I’d feel a lot better if you could wait until we got some backup here,” he insists.
“You don’t need backup to lower me, do you?” I challenge him, stuffing a couple of water bottles along with my camera in my backpack.
“No. But we might to get you and Jillian back up here.”
“Plenty of time for backup to get here then.”
Before he throws more objections my way, I pull out my cell phone. I only have one bar of reception, but it’s enough to get Ewing on the phone.
“Boss, the dog found remains.”
“Good news,” he responds. “Hopefully there’s enough to help us identify the guy.”
“It may actually be more than one set. I’m heading down there to get eyes on it, but communication may be an issue. You may want to see about organizing a forensic recovery team,” I suggest. “And the other thing, once I can confirm it’s more than one body, we should probably put a call in to the feds.”
“Shit. Just what I fucking need,” he grumbles.
“Let’s wait and make sure first, but in the meantime, we could probably use some extra hands up here.”
“Leave it with me.”
As I tuck away my phone, I notice Bo does the same. He must’ve sent a text because I didn’t hear him talk.
Either way, there are no more objections from him. Only basic instructions on the mechanics of my imminent descent as he helps me into the harness.
Fear is definitely setting in now; the butterflies are gnawing holes in the lining of my stomach. I just hope to hell I don’t make a fool of myself and scream, since I’m the one who insisted on going down there. Knowing Bo, he’d never let me forget.
Five minutes later I’m walking off the edge of a cliff.
Willingly.
Dan
“What’s her name?”
I look up at him and shake my head.
“Look, I’m not even sure she had anything to do with it,” I backtrack.
Wolff showed up earlier to give me a hand putting up GoPro cameras outside the house, and has been asking questions. Being a former FBI agent, he can’t seem to help himself. He’s pretty good too, since I just finished telling him about my most recent interactions with Shelby—something I’ve kept to myself—although, I didn’t mention her by name.
“Can I point out; you also didn’t think she had designs on you that went beyond fuck buddy?”
Right . Point taken.
I step out of the way as he climbs down the ladder I’ve been holding steady.
“Yeah, but what if I point the finger at her and she turns out to have nothing to do with it? Things can get really fucking awkward when I stop by her family’s store to pick up an order, which is about once a month.”
I realize I walked right into that one when I see the shit-eating grin on Wolff’s face.
“Ah, yes, Shelby Vandermeer,” he confirms.
Then he grabs another camera and walks to a tree on the other side of the driveway, leaving me to follow behind with the damn ladder.
Glancing over at the house, I notice the installers are working on the second main window in the front. I was able to get hold of the contractor yesterday afternoon and asked him to bring as big a crew as he could get together. He’s got two groups working, the second crew is tackling the rear of the house. It looks like they’re making decent tracks, and I’m really hoping we can get the place sealed up for tonight.
I prop the ladder against the tree we picked on this side of the driveway. One camera will be aimed down the driveway and the other toward the house. These will be the last of the GoPros to go up. We’ll have five up altogether. I’ll be able to remotely control and monitor them from my phone or computer.
As Wolff heads back up the ladder, my mind drifts to Jonas’s visit last night.
He dropped by with a couple of beers, wanting to see the progress. We ended up on the porch and watched the sun go down, while he filled me in on Jackson. We talked about getting Jackson out here, see if he could be coaxed into helping out, in hopes it might make him feel useful.
Right before he left, he urged me to take some time off, reminding me I probably have close to six months in vacation time banked. I rarely take time off, aside from the occasional time I join Fletch for a quick hunting trip.
Why would I need to? I love what I do, and I have no desire to go lie on a beach somewhere, or hit up the nightlife in the big city, when my idea of fun is doing exactly what I get to do every day already.
But I wasn’t going to say no to a full week of getting this build on track, so I took him up on his offer.
“Okay, those are set to go,” Wolff announces, climbing down again. “The batteries have two hours of recording time, so unless you want to run out halfway through the day with all this activity going on, I suggest shutting them down until nighttime. You should actually be able to set a timer.”
While he hoists the ladder on his shoulder and makes his way back to his truck, I pull up the app on my phone and make sure the cameras are all powered down.
Wolff is checking his phone by the time I join him, and I just catch him cursing under his breath.
“What is it?”
There’s something about the look he shoots me that makes me a little uneasy.
“It’s from Bo. He needs a hand up by the gorge.”
He cocks his thumb over his shoulder toward Kenelty Mountain across the river. That feeling of unease becomes more of a burn in my gut.
“Why, what’s happening up there?”
“The dog team found something and Sloane is rappelling down to join them.”
I don’t think, I react, and immediately turn on my heel to make my way to my truck.
Dammit, Sloane, what the fuck are you thinking?
“Hold up, Captain America.” Wolff claps me firmly on the shoulder. “Where’s the emergency?”
“She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing going down that rock wall,” I snap.
“She doesn’t need to; Bo will do all the work. We have the full pulley system rigged up so he could probably do it with his pinky finger. And other than that, she’s doing what she’s paid to do.”
I flip my hat off with one hand, while running the other through my hair.
“Besides that, you can’t leave, you’ve got issues here you have to deal with,” he continues.
Not to mention, if I showed up on the mountain, riding in like the knight in shining armor she probably doesn’t need, I’m just going to piss her off. Although, that wouldn’t stop me if she really was in any danger.
“Point taken,” I concede. “Just keep me in the loop.”
Wolff looks at me from under the brim of his hat and grins, shaking his head.
“You’ve got it bad, brother,” he states the obvious.
I don’t think there ever was a chance of me being subtle about my feelings for Sloane, so I don’t see the point of denying them.
“Trust me, I’m well aware.”
I watch as he gets in his truck and heads down the driveway, before turning back to the house.
Most of the paint is gone, but there are still a couple of spots visible, especially in the seams between the logs. I grab the bucket with the rags and the rubbing alcohol—which seems to work best on the wood—and get back to scrubbing.
I’ve got to keep these hands busy while I wait for news.