Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
This went along with everything JJ had said about Jake’s financial situation… and something about this amplified the alarm bells in my head a thousandfold.
Shay walked back with the phone to her ear, but after a minute, she shook her head and hit End. “No answer. I can shoot him a text and take your number?”
I gritted my back teeth together and tried not to snap at her. “Or maybe you could give me Jake’s number? So I can keep trying him myself?”
She shrugged. “Sure.” She rattled off the digits. Then she seemed to catch herself. “Oh! Actually, you could just wait in the lot there for Will. He’s coming by the bar later.”
I glanced over at Jake’s Place. All the lights were off, and the parking lot was empty. “The bar? You sure?”
“Yeah, we’re closed tonight, but Jake said…” She bit her lip and hesitated. “I mean, he told me not to tell anyone. But I think he meant, like, my friends. He was talking really fast, so I’m not really sure.”
“What did he say?”
“He said something about Will recording a song with me? And how it was going to be posted online and make us a lot of money? Maybe he thinks Will has friends in the music industry, I don’t really know. And he wouldn’t answer any questions. Said he’d tell me more later.”
The alarm bells coalesced into a loud, internal scream.
There was no way Wolfe would agree to record music with her and put it online. None. He didn’t post music online as Wolfe Marian. For many reasons, but the most important one being that it would out him as Fletcher Coe.
Wolfe was the kindest soul in the universe. But there was no way he’d take a chance at being outed as Fletcher by doing something like this. He’d immediately stopped singing at the campfire the other night when he’d thought he was being recorded.
“Was Will with him when he came back?” I demanded sharply, cutting off Shay’s rambling.
She blinked for a second, switching gears. “No. I assumed he was at the campground. Maybe he wanted to change clothes first? When Jake came back, he was soaked.”
“He’s not at the campground,” I repeated, trying not to lose my temper.
“He’s not with Jake.” She hesitated. “I would have seen him. Jake’s truck’s been acting up, and his battery conked out on him. I had to borrow our neighbor’s car and drive out to the trailhead to give him a jump start. It was just him. He said Will was still on the trail. I don’t know if he met up with other people or what. But that was a while ago.”
In the rain? There was no way. Had Jake left him there?
“Where was this?” I demanded. “Which trail were they on?”
“I… I don’t know,” she said, eyes widening at my tone. “Jake didn’t mention which trail they’d done. There are like three or four from that same trailhead. You could ask Will when you find him.”
I bit back the words I wanted to say, that finding him was the fucking point.
“They were doing a hike with an overlook,” I said, remembering my conversation with Brennan and Val. “And a waterfall.”
She gnawed at her lip again. “All the trails over there follow Black Canyon, so that doesn’t narrow it down much. Could be Beehive. That one’s a nice flatter loop and popular with visitors. Or it might be Kinnear Overlook? That’s a loop, too, but it’s one of my favorites because no one really knows about it—”
“How do I find the trailhead?”
“A few miles north on eighty-three. There’s a little wooden stake in the ground by the turn, but it’s hard to—”
I was already running before she finished speaking, cutting through the rain and darkness to get to my truck.
Fuck. I got back on the road and headed north while dialing Captain Amy Reynolds with Wyoming Search and Rescue. Her voice was firm and familiar as it came over the line. “Hey, stranger. Please tell me you’re not calling about a case. I just came off a doozie this morning.”
“Who do we know in southwestern Colorado SaR?”
There was a beat of silence on the line as she registered the stress in my voice. “What are you doing in Colorado?”
“No time to talk, Amy. It’s personal. I have a family member, Wolfe Marian, who didn’t come back from a hike today. I know it’s early, but my gut is pinging.” Screaming. It was still fucking screaming. “I need help.”
“I always trust your gut, Trace.” Keys clacked in the background. “You want Clay Dennison. He coordinates SaR for four counties out of the Montrose Sheriff’s Department.”
I knew Clay. Former USFS smokejumper out of Missoula, whose knees had gone soft on him. He’d even taught a class for me at SERA. “Perfect. Can you text me his dispatcher’s number?”