Brink of Danger

by Christy Barritt

  Ansley paused for a minute and listened to the scuttlebutt in the room beside her. The guys were all there—probably six of them in all on this shift now. They all ate around the table in the outdated kitchen. She could smell the savory scent of steak and potatoes.

  They’d offered to let her eat with them, but she’d said no—for more than one reason. First, because she didn’t want to flirt. She’d told Ryan she was simply misunderstood, and maybe in some ways she was. Exchanging quick one-liners and banter seemed to come naturally for her. But she never led guys on just to boost her ego.

  Besides, Murphy Bennett worked here. They’d gone out a couple times, and, as soon as he’d seen her today, he’d beelined toward her, talking about getting together again. She had no interest and didn’t want to cause any awkwardness here at the station.

  For some reason, she also felt the strange need to prove herself now. To show Ryan that she could do a good job with the task she’d been handed. To make it clear she was more than a party girl—that she was a good worker.

  Her thought process made no sense sometimes. Ansley wasn’t the type who worried about making good impressions.

  But something felt different now. Something like . . . Ryan.

  She sensed a shadow behind her and turned. Ryan stood in the doorway watching her. His eyes seemed to be soaking her in, and a small grin played across his lips.

  Her cheeks heated at the sight of him. Why had the man always had that effect on her?

  “Can I help you?” She stood and paced toward him.

  “You’ve got a little dust on your cheek.” Ryan leaned down and gently wiped it away with the back of his finger.

  His touch sent a shiver of delight through her.

  Ansley touched the spot where his hand had been, trying to cool her hot skin—without making it obvious the effect he had on her. “Thank you.”

  “How’s it going in here?” He nodded behind her.

  She turned away from him, grateful for the distraction. “I think I’m making some good progress.”

  “That’s great. Are you sure you don’t want to eat something?”

  She nodded. “I’m not really hungry.”

  Truthfully, she hadn’t been hungry lately. Not since the zipline incident.

  Ryan opened his mouth, as if about to say something else. As he did, the alert tones at the station sounded.

  Men scurried toward the trucks.

  He lowered his ear closer to his radio, listening to the details of the call. His body stiffened, and he turned back to Ansley. “We just got a call . . . from Thickie.”

  Ansley’s eyes widened with curiosity and concern. “Is he okay?”

  Ryan pressed his lips together before saying, “The deck attached to his house collapsed.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  While his men took off in the fire trucks and ambulance toward the scene, Ryan climbed into his SUV. He was going to head to the scene in an unofficial capacity. His captain would officially be in charge, and Ryan didn’t want to step on any toes.

  As the new fire chief, he wanted to see how his men worked, their strengths and weaknesses.

  Before he pulled away, the passenger door opened beside him. Ansley slipped in and slammed the door. “Can I go?”

  “It’s not a good idea.”

  Her gaze locked on him. “I know Thickie. I need to see if he’s okay.”

  “Ansley . . .” Ryan didn’t have time to squabble. Plus, if Ansley came, at least he could keep an eye on her. “Fine. But you have to stay out of the way.”

  She nodded and pulled on her seatbelt. “I will. I promise.”

  With a touch of hesitation, Ryan cranked the SUV and started down the road. Ten minutes later, they pulled up to Thickie’s place. He owned a small cabin located on the mountainside. As soon as Ryan saw the steep drop-off on the other side of the building, his throat tightened.

  This couldn’t be good.

  Ansley scrambled out of the car and followed Ryan as he joined the rest of the crew on the scene. Situations like this required all units to be dispatched. Two sheriff’s cars were there, as well as fire trucks and an ambulance.

  As he always did, Ryan scanned the scene, trying to ascertain where things stood. Before he could fully take everything in, Thickie appeared from the back of the cabin. The man rubbed his head, looking a little dazed, but otherwise okay. Two EMTs stood on either side of him.

  On the other side of the house, Ryan clearly saw the deck. Saw how it had partially fallen down the mountainside. Saw how it was now splayed in a crumbled heap of wooden planks.

  “Wow . . .” Ansley muttered, her voice nearly breathless with surprise.

  They strode toward Thickie just as Luke approached also.

  Ryan glanced at Thickie. “What’s going on?”

  Thickie shook his head, the orange vest he wore blending with the brilliant leaves behind him. His hair—hatless for once—was rumpled, and he held his arm, as if it hurt.

  “I don’t know,” Thickie said. “I stepped outside on my deck, and I saw this deer. Perfect, right? I’d planned on going hunting today, so it was like an omen that I should. The next thing I knew, I heard a crack and everything shifted around me.”

  Ryan glanced at the broken deck again, wondering how this man was still walking.

  “What happened next?” Luke asked.

  “I threw myself back inside—hit my head and scraped my elbow. Just as I landed, everything collapsed, and I heard this rumble, like the earth was crumbling around me.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re still alive right now,” Luke said. “This could have been a very different scene.”

  “Tell me about it. Ten second difference, and I would have been falling to my death. That deer was just staring at me, almost gloating at how the tables had turned.”

  Much like Ansley, Ryan mused. Not the gloating deer part but the way someone could have tampered with something.

  Thickie was supposed to go first on that zipline, which had been sabotaged. And now his deck had collapsed?

  Something didn’t sound right to Ryan.

  Ryan stepped back, surveying the scene and trying to picture someone tampering with the posts of the mountainside deck. It wouldn’t have been hard. Thickie lived out here away from people. If he’d been gone a couple hours even, someone could have messed with those posts, knowing when Thickie stepped onto his deck it would end in tragedy.

  Ryan’s gaze went to Thickie again, who stood back also, observing the scene. The man glanced over at Ansley, and his eyes narrowed.

  Interesting reaction. Why was he acting so hostile toward her? Did he have some hard feelings toward her?

  Ansley either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She stepped closer to Thickie and said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Thickie scowled. “I didn’t have the money to pay no medical bills.”

  Unfortunately, Thickie was out of work right now also. Ryan doubted he had insurance at his job with the zipline.

  “How old was that deck?” Ryan glanced at the wood again. It didn’t look particularly old, though the boards appeared gray with age and weather.

  Thickie shrugged. “It was probably fifteen years old. But it felt solid . . . usually.”

  “You inspected it lately?”

  “Nah, man. I mostly just sleep here. I’m too busy working and mountain climbing usually. I prefer nature to being at home.”

  They were definitely going to need to investigate why this deck had collapsed.

  Luke and Ryan exchanged a look. Neither of them thought this was an accident. That was clear. But it was too early to make any assumptions.

  Ansley stood in the background while Ryan and Luke worked the scene. Thickie, in the meantime, was by the ambulance, being examined by the EMTs. She had a feeling they were trying to talk him into going to the hospital, but he looked like he was refusing.

  Eleanor Black, one of the EMTs, paced over toward Ansley. “Crazy
stuff, huh?”

  Ansley stared at the collapsed deck with a shudder. “You can say that again.”

  Eleanor remained beside Ansley. The woman was petite and blonde, but her personality made her seem big. However, the woman hadn’t ever been particularly nice. She looked out for herself and no one else—unless she was working, Ansley supposed.

  “There’s no way he should be alive right now,” Eleanor continued.

  All of this seemed so familiar to Ansley—and for good reason. Heaviness clutched her chest as she said, “I guess people could say the same about me.”

  “I guess they can. Maybe you both have angels watching over you.”

  “Maybe we do.”

  Eleanor turned her gaze back toward Thickie. Eleanor and Ansley had been drinking buddies back when Ansley was into the party scene. Seeing her reminded Ansley of who she’d once been—and it was a person she no longer liked.

  Despite that, she had days when going back seemed tempting. When finding the easy way out seemed like a great solution. Alcohol could numb her feelings and make her forget her problems—however, that balm didn’t last very long. She had to keep going back for it back again and again.

  No more.

  “Say, didn’t Thickie ask you out a couple months ago?” Eleanor asked.

  “He did. I didn’t think I’d told you.”

  “No, Dustin did.” Eleanor’s smile drooped at the mention of Dustin’s name.

  If Ansley remembered correctly, the two of them had been friends. Maybe Dustin and Eleanor had even gone out once or twice, but it hadn’t turned into anything too serious.

  “Why in the world did Dustin tell you about that?” Dustin hadn’t been the type to engage in girly gossip.

  “You know Dustin and his sense of humor. He thought it was hysterical that Thickie thought he had a chance with you.”

  Ansley hadn’t always been the nicest girl, but she wasn’t mean either. Seeing Eleanor snicker like they were back in high school rubbed her the wrong way. “Hysterical was probably putting it strongly. I mean, what’s so funny about rejection?”

  Eleanor shrugged, sobering slightly. “I don’t know. I guess Thickie was nervous and acting like a schoolboy?”

  Ansley remembered the moment well. They’d been at work at the zipline and had just closed for the evening. Ansley and Thickie were in the employee lounge and locker area, while Dustin had been in his office tidying things up for the evening.

  Ansley had been able to tell that Thickie had something on his mind. He’d been shifting uncomfortably. Sweating. His gaze had been uneven.

  “Hey, Ansley,” he’d started.

  She’d turned toward him. “What’s up, Thickie?”

  “Listen, I have some tickets to a concert in Gatlinburg next week. Twenty One Pilots. I wondered if you want to go.” He’d shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

  “Twenty One Pilots?” Ansley loved that band. But she’d eyeballed Thickie, trying to interpret the subtext of his words. Did he want to go as friends? Or as more? “I’d love to go. How much is my ticket?”

  His face had reddened. “I wasn’t going to make you pay.”

  “Of course I’d pay. I can’t let you float the bill.”

  His shifting gaze had finally met hers. “I was hoping we could go . . . you know . . . as a guy and girl.”

  “We are a guy and girl.” Ansley thought she knew what he was getting at but she needed to be certain.

  “I mean, like, on a date.” His cheeks turned red as he said the words.

  Ansley’s heart had dropped. As hard as it was, she knew she had to speak the truth. In the end, it was the kindest thing she could do. “Oh, Thickie. I’m sorry, but I don’t think of you like that.”

  Thickie had nodded rapidly. “I get it.”

  “It’s not personal . . . it’s just . . . you’re not my type. But you’re a great guy.”

  “A great guy?” He snorted and took a step back. “I’ve heard that one before. You know what? Forget it. Pretend I never asked.”

  “Thickie . . .”

  Before Ansley could say anything else he’d left, apathetically flapping a hand at her like she no longer mattered.

  The conversation hadn’t been fun.

  As soon as he’d left, Dustin had stepped out of the office with a smirk on his face. “Well, well, well . . . Thickie finally got up the nerve to ask you out.”

  “Finally?” Maybe Ansley thought she’d gotten some of those vibes from him before, but she’d figured it was just a little crush, not full-blown infatuation.

  “He’s been trying to work up the courage for months now. And just like that you shot him down.” He clucked his tongue in teasing reprimand.

  Ansley tilted her head in agitation. “I can’t say yes if I’m not interested. That wouldn’t be fair.”

  “He’s going to take this hard. He’ll be down at Hanky’s tonight, drinking his sorrows away.”

  “I think you’re overstating things. He’ll be fine.” She grabbed her bag from her locker. Ansley didn’t know why she was bothering to explain this to Dustin. She owed him nothing.

  Dustin had shrugged. “I guess we’ll see. But he had it for you bad. I’ll tell you that.”

  Thickie had been distant after that. He’d given her dirty looks. Acted uncomfortable. Almost bitter.

  But there was nothing Ansley could do to make it better. She tried to put him at ease. To joke with him. To have staring contests to show nothing had changed.

  Back in the present, Ansley continued to stand at the edge of the scene. A few stray leaves drifted down from the trees above her before landing with a light crunch below. The air was crisp, with just a hint of October chill.

  At one time, autumn had been her favorite season. That had been back when her mother used to make apple cider and plan hayrides and take them to corn mazes.

  Now the season only brought bad memories.

  Ansley watched as Luke strode across the property. He pulled Thickie from the ambulance and kept a hand on the man as he led him toward the house.

  Her eyebrows scrunched together in curiosity. What was going on? Had they found something inside.

  Just as the question entered her mind, Ryan appeared beside her. His expression seemed darker, more concerned, as he studied her.

  “Do you know anything about wooden gnomes? Know someone who whittles them?” Ryan asked.

  “What in the world are you talking about?” she asked.

  She had no idea where this was going—but she knew something was wrong.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ansley waited for Ryan to explain himself.

  “Mr. Anderson—or Thickie, as he likes to be called—had a hand-carved gnome on his desk. It looked a lot like you.”

  “Should I be insulted?”

  “That’s not where this is going.” Ryan gave her a look. “I found a similar one at Dustin’s place and one was left on my truck.”

  Ansley sucked in a breath as she processed that information. She wasn’t sure what was more disturbing, the gnomes themselves or the fact that she shared their likeness. That was just . . . creepy.

  She swallowed hard. “So you think these hand-carved gnomes connect the crimes?”

  “I have no idea. I’m just asking questions.”

  “Well, I’ve never heard of them or seen them.”

  “Is there any history between you and Thickie?”

  Ansley glanced at the door to the cabin as Luke disappeared inside with Thickie. She licked her lips before saying, “Thickie asked me out once.”

  Ryan gave her a pointed look. “And you said?”

  “No. I wasn’t interested.” Ansley swallowed hard. Maybe Dustin had been right. Maybe this was a bigger deal for Thickie than it had been for her. Maybe he had stronger feelings than Ansley suspected.

  But she still wasn’t sure how this was relevant to what was happening.

  “I don’t see what the big deal is,” Ansley said. “Maybe he had a cr
ush on me. Maybe he whittled a weird little gnome that looks like me. So what?”

  Ryan stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Have you ever heard what rejection can do to some people?”

  Her throat felt dry at his nearness, his tone, his words. “It can . . . turn their lives upside down?”

  “How do you know that Thickie didn’t send you out on that zipline first on purpose?”

  Ansley sucked in a breath. “Wait . . . you think he sabotaged it and then wanted to watch me fall to my death?”

  Ryan remained unblinking. “It’s something to consider.”

  Ansley could understand where he was coming from, but all the pieces didn’t fit. Sure, he could have thrown that stupid staring contest—but it had been Ansley’s idea. He could have set the cable to break—though the very idea seemed extreme and unbelievable to Ansley.

  “What about his deck?” Ansley asked. “Did he do this to himself? What sense would that make?”

  “He just happened to dive back into his house at the right time, avoiding imminent injury or even death?” Ryan shrugged, a skeptical look in his gaze. “Maybe he did this to take any potential attention off himself.”

  “I think that’s a little far-reaching.”

  “I’m sure your brother will be looking to see if Thickie has an alibi for the evening before the zipline accident,” Ryan said. “This is a long way from being over.”

  She shivered, wondering how everything had snowballed into this nightmare. She should be working the zipline. Talking to tourists. Bantering with her coworkers. Instead, disaster was following her around like a little lost puppy dog.

  “You don’t have to tell me that twice.” Her throat squeezed as she said the words. “Every time I feel the ache in my entire body, I realize this is going to be a long process.”

  Ryan’s gaze softened. “Maybe I should get you back to the office—or even back home, if that’s what you need.”

  Sitting down would be nice. It had pained Ansley to admit that she was tired and that her body ached. Admitting that she wasn’t as tough as she wanted to be was humbling.