by M K Dymock
Mina stuffed down her irritation at him for leaving her at the camp to handle it. “In his office. What’s up?”
“He wanted to see my boots.” He held up an almost new pair of Sorel black boots.
“Another season, another new pair, I see.” There were guys who duct-taped their gear together, and then there was Patrick.
“Good gear, good outcomes.”
She rolled her eyes as she yelled for Sol. He came out of his office with no welcome smile for Patrick. “I shouldn’t have had to ask you to bring these over.”
Sol’s tone had always been Switzerland, never revealing an emotion from one extreme to another. Mina glanced at her computer and clicked to open the first thing she saw, not wanting to be a part of this.
“I told you when we met on the trail I needed to get down.”
“And I told you to go back up until we could retrieve the body.”
Patrick dropped the boots on the floor with a clump. “Have a good one, Mina.”
She didn’t look up from her screen, where she’d inadvertently opened the photos of the first body. With all the chaos, she’d forgotten about the ring or lack thereof.
Mina stared at the hand of a recently single man when a vague recollection popped in her brain. Adrienne’s missing date was divorced. Without anything resembling a lead, Mina looked up the employee directory on her phone and found the number.
Adrienne picked up on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Mina. That guy who stood you up, you remember his name?”
“Girl, I make it a point to only remember the names of the guys who show.”
Mina couldn’t argue with that sound logic. “I don’t suppose you still have his number?”
“Sure, it’s on my phone. I’ll send it over.”
Just as her phone dinged the answer, Sol opened the door. He stomped his feet with a ferocity, unusual for him.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“Your boy, Ryan, is out in the parking lot wanting to talk to you.”
So many emotions reacted to that statement, Mina would need an hour to sort all through them. “Why?” She didn’t have an hour.
“He said he wanted to see how you were doing.” Sol pulled his sheriff’s cap off. “Look, I don’t have to tell you to keep your distance while we’re sorting this all out.”
But you just did, Mina silently added.
“Talk to him, keep it professional, and see if he has anything else to add.”
She slipped on her coat and was out the door before Sol could offer any more advice.
40
Ryan wanted to see Mina one more time before they headed up the mountain. He also wanted to get her thoughts on everything that happened, but knew those wouldn’t be had for a penny. He stood in the snow and cold outside the office, not wanting to go in.
She stepped out the door, zipping up a uniform coat several sizes too big for her. The makers of the uniform had obviously not pictured a deputy of her size when designing.
“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
Her expression let him know what a dumb question that was. “How are you doing?” she asked.
“Not good.” He tried to keep the emotion out his voice, but couldn’t and stopped speaking at that statement.
She gestured to his car. “Let’s climb in before we both lose a limb.”
He started the engine and the hot air blew out. He wondered how long until he wasn’t so appreciative of the miracle of heat. “I called Phil’s daughter.” Mina didn’t respond, and he rushed to fill the silence. “I had to. He was there because of me, because he believed my story. I shouldn’t have kept this going. I should’ve forgotten everything I saw that day and listened to my therapist when she said I imagined the whole thing because of trauma.”
“Did you imagine it?”
“No, but it would’ve been better just to accept that answer and move on.”
“Ryan, what are you holding back? You haven’t been straight with me from the get-go.”
He clenched the steering wheel, wishing he was anywhere but having this conversation. “The girl I found, who’d been attacked, she was still alive.”
“You said you found a body.”
“Not at first. I heard her crying out for help, and I found her in a bog surrounded by reeds several feet deep. Blood dyed everything red.” Ryan could still picture the green weeds looking like their bottoms had been dipped in paint. “She said something had come out of the trees and attacked her, a bear, maybe. Whatever it was, it got distracted and ran off. I had a first-aid kit with a few Band-Aids, and I stupidly pulled it out. Like I could somehow put her intestines back into her body.”
Mina reached out a hand like she wanted to take his, but she hesitated and instead let it sit a few inches away.
“I heard this god-awful scream in the woods—not a bear, but an enraged beast in a fury. And I ran.”
“What made you so sure it was Bigfoot?”
“I saw it. I stopped and turned at the edge of the clearing. It strode out of the trees on two feet, arms hanging down. For a split second, I thought someone had come to rescue us. But as it came out of trees, I could see black hair covering its entire body. Every part of me shook. He screamed one more time, and I ran. Didn’t matter I was hurt, didn’t matter it was almost dark, and it didn’t matter that I left her behind.”
“You were a kid,” she whispered.
“I was a coward who spent the night hiding under some bushes. I found the meadow at dawn, but by that time, there wasn’t much of her left. A few hours later, I finally stumbled into a search group from the camp. I lied, told them she was already dead.”
“Ryan, I…” Mina couldn’t think of words.
Ryan straightened, wanting to change the subject to something more concrete. “Have you made any progress on Phil?”
Her hand retreated. “We’re doing everything we can.”
“I’ve tried to remember something, anything before the scream.”
“How well did you know him?”
“I know who he is now, but I don’t know much about his old life.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“The CEO/corporate him. I stayed with him once in Seattle, and we went out to dinner. Everyone knew him, wanted to talk to him. The restaurant put him at the head of the list. Not my quiet guy hiking buddy. When this gets out,” Ryan said, “it’s going to be big news.”
“We’re still trying to process the crime scene and the body to understand that night,” she said. “We don’t have the resources to—” She cut herself off with a glance at Ryan.
“You’re not going back up there, are you?” Ryan asked. He knew the sheriff wouldn’t look too favorably on him and Sean heading up.
“No, we worked pretty fast to get what we needed. Couldn’t risk losing anything to the elements.” She grabbed on the door handle. “I should go.”
“I understand.”
She held on to the handle without pulling it. “Ryan, people are going to be suspicious about how many bodies you’ve been around. Be careful what you say.” Without another word, she pushed open the door and jumped out before he could respond.
He noticed she hadn’t said whether she was one of those people.
With Mina’s confirmation they had finished with the crime scene, he called Sean to tell him they were good to go. Ryan tried to ignore the guilt of not being entirely honest with Mina.
41
When Mina first met Ryan, she’d regarded him as no one who’d fit in at Lost Gorge, and by extension her kind of life. When he’d looked up at her as she came out of the office, she almost didn’t recognize him.
She tried to sort out what had changed—his beard had grown in thick and darker than his hair, he wore the ball cap all local men had to wear, but he also carried a sadness whereas before he’d seemed almost childlike in his excitement.
When she relayed to Sol the contents
of the conversation, she left out the last part.
“Find out everything you can about Phillip,” Sol said. “We need to know the big players in his life and who benefits from his death. When I called to inform his kids, they weren’t in a position to quiz. Once we know more, we’ll be in a position to ask the right questions.”
After reading enough about Phil Griffith to know he was smarter and more successful than about 99.9 percent of the population, other than the whole chasing Bigfoot thing, Mina needed something to distract her. Men like him shouldn’t die alone in the woods.
She searched the phone number of Adrienne’s date. The name tied to the number was Grayson Moore. A glimpse into social media accounts under that name showed that Grayson hadn’t lied about his occupation. Mina found links to his articles about everything from scaling Denali to rafting the Nile in Uganda. She liked this guy’s style.
Odd, though—a reporter on scene the very day of an attack, and yet she didn’t see any articles about Lost Gorge. She thumbed through his Twitter feed; he hadn’t posted in two weeks. He did post the day after the attack—about heading to Africa for the holidays.
Mina called his number again, but it went straight to voicemail without a ring, like it had a dead battery.
He’d posted every other day but nothing for the last two weeks. He told Adrienne he’d be offline, but it wasn’t like Africa was the moon; they had Internet.
Something about his last Tweet didn’t sit right. Mina stood up to pour herself another cup coffee. The pot had run dry, so she put another on. As it percolated, so did she.
Africa. That’s what bothered her. The man appeared to be a worldwide traveler; he wouldn’t say he was going to an entire continent. He’d mention a specific country or city.
What was she saying? Someone killed him and posted from his phone? That felt farfetched even for an investigation that included Bigfoot as a suspect.
The coffee maker sputtered out its brown liquid into the pot. Cate. That’s who she needed to call. If a reporter was doing a story on Lost Gorge, they would’ve reached out to Cate, who would welcome all PR for the town.
Cate answered on the first ring. “Mina, I’m so glad you called. James has wanted you and Ryan to come for dinner for the last week, but every time he asks Ryan, he’s off to the mountains.”
“It’s been a crazy time.”
“What about tonight? We’ll keep it short, but you’ve got to eat and wouldn’t believe the amount of food simmering on my stove.”
“Will Ryan be there?”
“No, I’ve given up on that man.”
Mina swallowed the knee-jerk no. She had to talk to Cate, and she had to eat. “What time?”
The twins, unused to having company, about tackled Mina as she walked through the door, vying for her attention. “Want to see my room?” Chris asked.
“No, she doesn’t.” Kelly wrapped her arms around Mina’s waist. “Your room is smelly. She’s going to mine.”
“Shut up.”
Mina jumped in before the fight could explode. “I will see both your rooms.” Chris raced down the hall as she leaned over to Kelly and whispered, “I’ll hold my breath.”
Kelly took her hand, and they walked down together. Chris was already jumping on his bed—surprisingly made. “Look how high I can go.”
Mina, an only child, didn’t fully understand men until she started teaching little boys. Apparently, the need to show off is ingrained from birth. “You want your mom to yell at the both of us?”
The jumps immediately stopped. “Don’t tell, okay?”
“Okay.”
Cate found them in Kelly’s room and managed to convince the kids it really was dinnertime. James was already sitting, oblivious to Cate dishing out food and corralling the kids.
“How are you doing?” Mina asked as she found a chair, the kids on either side of her.
“Oh, I’m fine, thanks to you,” James said.
Cate took his hand with loving gaze. “It’s going to definitely be a new year for us.”
Mina was due back at the office, as it was her turn to work the night shift. She didn’t want to talk in front of the kids but couldn’t stand to lose her window. “Cate, did a man named Grayson Moore ever contact you about doing a story on Lost Gorge?”
Cate stopped dishing broccoli to Chris, spoon in hand. “Grayson? I’m not sure. I get calls from freelancers all the time wanting to do stories.” She sat back down. “Most of them are bloggers with five followers looking for free passes and lodging.”
“You would’ve wanted to work with this guy. He was legit, wrote for a lot of the big travel and outdoor magazines.”
Cate looked to James as if he could source an answer, but he didn’t offer one. “Why do you ask?” she said.
“He was around the day…” She glanced at the kids, who paid more attention to wrapping noodles on their forks than the adult conversation. “…the day everything happened on the mountain.” With extra ears at the table, Mina went with a lie that could be a truth. “I heard he was taking some pictures and thought he might’ve caught something.”
Cate nodded. “I’ll go back through my emails. I know I sent out several press passes three or four months ago when I did a big campaign.”
“Thanks. I reached out to him on Twitter, but it doesn’t look like he’s there a lot.” Dinner went on, and they moved to talking about Lost Gorge’s favorite subject—the weather and when it would snow again.
After dinner, Mina climbed into her Jeep, but before she could turn the key, she remembered another reason she’d come tonight. Chris had complained about his ski boots pinching during their last lesson, and Cate had called in with a credit card to the resort shop to buy new ones. They’d left the old pair behind, and Mina had been meaning to return them.
She made her way back to the front door with boots in hand. James’s voice carried through the door. “Maybe you should stop making friends with so many people.”
Cate answered back, but her calm voice didn’t come through.
“Kids, go to your room!” James yelled.
Mina pushed open the door to slip the boots inside. The open door of a closet was only a foot away.
“Do you even want me here?” James asked, his tone more of a question than a demand.
“Of course I do,” Cate answered.
The coat closet was filled with enough winter clothes to outfit the Olympic village. Mina set the boots down between a little pair of pink boots and a pair of men’s black Sorels. James’s voice carried again, and Kelly began to cry.
She slipped out the door and to her Jeep, more worried about Cate and the kids than the emails. She would keep a closer eye on the family.
42
Ryan helped Sean unload the single snowmobile from the back of his truck. “Figured you wouldn’t want to drive your own,” Sean said.
“Not on this trail.”
They sped up the trail without stopping. Both were determined to get to the camp and back before darkness would sweep through the forest. It had to be that day. Another storm threatened in the coming days and would wipe out any signs.
The O’Briens had hauled out all the gear from the site, leaving only trampled snow. Ryan and Sean stood where Ryan’s and Phil’s tent had been.
“I’ll walk out there,” Sean said. “You don’t need to.”
Ryan didn’t have to ask where he meant. “I need to see it, need to get it over with. If there’s any tracks or sign to be found, that’ll be where it is.”
“What exactly are you hoping to find?”
“Michael said he placed one camera and handed it over. Knowing that guy, I can’t imagine he’d give up everything. He had to have placed another camera and in a better position.” Ryan made a 360, scanning the area for possible sites. A thick pine tree taller than the surrounding ones overlooked an open area—the area he’d been avoiding. “That way.” He pointed. Sean followed, neither one of them speaking.
The blood
had settled into the snow, leaving it a yellow pinkish hue. The sun shone, a blinding brilliance that belittled the deadliness of the spot. Several sets of footprints from both the campers and Mina and the police littered the area.
Sean hunched over the tracks while Ryan scanned for a good spot for the camera. “I think we all came down this path at least once that night to pee,” Sean said.
“That could be another reason Michael and Phil would place a camera here. The scent could draw out something not happy about his territory being invaded.”
Sean cocked his head to one side. “I see everyone’s tracks but yours.”
Ryan didn’t much like the questioning tone in his voice. “As knocked out as I was, I would’ve peed my sleeping bag before getting up at night.”
“Sure.” Sean didn’t sound sure.
Ryan ignored him and worked his way through the brush surrounding the trees. In the summer this brush would be several feet tall; now it only went to his knees. A flash of red, much brighter than the remaining blood, caught his eye. Two apples sat on the snow—a lure set by Phil.
Ryan glanced above him. A small camera nestled in the branches pointed down at him. A camera set up to take pictures at any movement. He stood on his tiptoes and pulled it down, flipping open the side door to reveal the SD card.
Maybe, just maybe, it had caught what destroyed Phil.
Before he could call out his discovery, Sean yelled back with one of his own. “Ryan, come look at this!” His voice held a hint of panic.
Ryan trudged through the snow, the bushes pulling at the fabric of his jacket. Sean squatted over the snow about twenty feet from the blood. “What is it?” Ryan asked.
He didn’t respond, only pointed. Ryan leaned over, his eyes following Sean’s gesture. At one glance, he took a step back, his hand covering his beard. A bare footprint, twice the size of any he left, was perfectly etched in the snow.
Ryan retreated farther back.
