Twelve #2
My muscles soften the way they always do in the presence of women of any authority, but the paranoia won’t leave my head.
The texter said that something was up with this town and now they can’t talk to us.
How many suspects can this town hold if the texter’s right and they were killed?
Is this ranger someone I can’t trust either?
If we say the wrong thing to the wrong person, are Beck and I next?
“Hi,” I say, pitching my voice higher than I need to. “We’re here to check into our campsite.”
“ID please,” she says. She keeps her gaze on her computer, keys clacking on a keyboard that must be decades old.
I force myself to breathe evenly as Beck hands over her fake ID. It seemed safer not to have a trail leading back to us.
“Have y’all been to a national forest before?
” she asks. “The rules are pretty standardized across them. Don’t leave any litter behind, fires only in the designated circles, keep your food up high to keep bears away.
Please be aware that the natural landscape is really dry and it’s been even worse with the lack of rain this season.
Fire season’s not just in October anymore. ”
“We know,” Beck says. “We’re from LA.”
I swear I hear those five words in Paisley’s voice. Their voices are so different, but Beck said that in Paisley’s voice. I suppose both of them are a bit snarky, but Beck usually never sounds impatient like this. It leaves a hollow feeling in my heart, the way seeing Beck at the burial did.
Natalie steals a glance at Beck before nodding.
“Great, then this’ll all be familiar. Do not mess around with matches, lighters, or anything that could potentially cause a fire.
If I catch you with fireworks or anything stupid like that, I will confiscate them and charge the maximum fine.
” She looks up again, giving Beck the stiffest smile.
“And finally, know that I’m right upstairs if you need anything. ”
How many other groups of girls has this ranger had to check in since everything happened with Paisley, Harlow and Opal?
Goose bumps spring up across my arms as I take in the monotone in her voice, like she’s a robot planted to keep the peace after a traumatizing incident hit this small town.
But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe she’s just waiting for someone to crack her open with the right question.
“Do you work here alone?” I ask.
“Nope,” she says, now looking at me. “But my partner is assigned to the forest for the next few days. We have a remote tower deeper in, so usually it’s one of us at each spot.”
Now that she has her eyes on me, she won’t move them.
One second. Two, three, four.
Her mouth twitches, but all that comes out is, “Why?”
Why is she looking at me like that?
While I don’t have the words, Beck stuffs her hands into her pockets and leans toward Natalie. “I mean, with what happened in fall, I’d be pretty freaked to work here.”
It registers slowly, then Natalie’s expression falls. “You know about what happened to those girls, huh?” Her voice is laced with an airy pity.
Beck and I exchange a glance. It doesn’t feel like the right time to reveal who we are.
“Yeah,” I say, stuffing my own hands into my pockets like Beck.
Natalie’s frown deepens along the scar. “So awful. You’re trained to know what to do, but it really hits so much harder experiencing it.
” She cracks her knuckles. “But to answer your original question, yeah, I feel safe working here alone.” She produces a can of bear spray from a drawer she’s standing behind.
“Everyone’s human.” Her lips quirk up. “And I have something stronger if need be.” She makes a gun with her right hand and mimes the kickback of a shotgun.
I don’t really know how it feels to be in someone like Natalie’s shoes.
I have no idea how much blood and gore one sees on this job, whether from the harshness of mother nature or from human stupidity and tragedy.
But something about how she’s reacting to us asking if the park is safe because it has a history of teenage girl deaths feels…
blasé. Is she unable to hide how little she cares about Paisley, Harlow, and Opal’s deaths?
A sting of shame settles in my throat. Should I really be assuming the worst of this woman? I know nothing about her. Maybe she’s like me and doesn’t know how to act in social situations and her default is awkwardness.
Luckily, I’ll have three days to get a better read on her.
Beck and I exchange a look. We need to get out of here and have a real conversation, but I do my best to convey we’re done here with only my eyes.
To my relief, Beck says, “Cool. We have bear spray too, but hopefully we won’t need you and the shotgun.”
She places a parking pass on the countertop but leaves her fingers resting on it. “So what brings you two here? Not many people choose here over Arrowhead or Big Bear.”
“Best price,” I say.
She snorts. “It’s not that different. Any particular attractions or trails you’re hoping to hit?”
Easy. I researched a ton of trails, marking down the spot where the bodies were found. So long as I say one that isn’t there, we’ll be good to go.
“There’s some cool ghost town around here, isn’t there?” Beck says. “We were hoping to go there.”
I deflate. So much for that plan.
Natalie stares at me again. “Be sure to do that during the day. Too many nails sticking up around there. Wouldn’t want you to get tetanus.”
“We won’t,” I say. I glance at the firewood for sale. “We’ll also take a few of the logs.”
Natalie nods and adds that to our total. Her hand still sits on the pass.
Once the transaction ends, Natalie looks up from the computer and asks, “You two go to college around here?”
My heart slams in my throat. “No,” I say. “We just graduated.” It’s half true. In spirit.
“Thanks for everything,” Beck says, holding out her hand for the pass. “We don’t want to waste any daylight setting up.”
“Of course. Sorry.” Her hand doesn’t move from the pass. “You two just look familiar.”
Beck looks like Paisley in the right light.
Does this woman remember Paisley, then? What did Paisley Horne do for this woman to recognize a version of her face eight months later?
But as I’m about to ask, her gaze burns into me. “You look familiar.”
My veins freeze over.
It was so dark that night. All I saw was a woman and her dark hair.
Just because the person wasn’t in uniform doesn’t mean she didn’t have one.
Because I haven’t been on TV. I hadn’t been anywhere near here prior to the night Paisley, Harlow, and Opal died.
Natalie finally slides the parking pass our way. “Site two is ready for y’all. My number’s on the back. Really, don’t be strangers. I’m here to help.”
So she must recognize me from that night.
“Thanks,” Beck says before grabbing the logs and walking toward the exit.
The question is: What would it take for her to tell someone?
“I wouldn’t fixate on those girls too much,” Natalie calls out as we go. “People around here hate outsiders who ask questions.”