But Astrid isn't the first hiker to go missing in the last couple of weeks, and that's why they're all here now; to track down who's behind the disappearances and finally bring them to justice.
That's the story I got, but they left me alone in the cabin while Talon gave Austin a ride back to the house they share in town.
I got the feeling they talked about things I wasn't supposed to know.
What I do know is that Talon is new to their team, he's hot as fire, and I haven't eaten anything since I called a packet of freeze-dried spaghetti dinner last night.
When I open the bedroom door, I'm hit by the smell of food being cooked and my stomach growls loudly.
A few steps past the doors to the dual bathrooms, and I'm in the main living area of the cabin.
Twin sofas face off against one another across the room. Both upholstered in dark, forest green fabric with silhouettes of bears and moose and tiny log cabins on a tan background in a checkerboard pattern. One has been pulled out and made into a bed already, while the other has a red and black, buffalo-check blanket folded neatly over the back.
There's a free-standing, wood-burning stove surrounded by brick fire wall sitting cold and unused in one corner and I vaguely wish the July nights were cool enough to warrant lighting it up.
A campfire this time of year is nice when you're sleeping outside, but the robust little cabin is insulated well enough to not need the extra heat until probably well into the fall months.
The kitchen area is at the opposite end of the main room, a counter running along the front wall with a sink, and oven/stove unit that looks like it was ripped out of someone's motorhome. A standard size refrigerator stands against the wall perpendicular to the counter.
There's a table in the middle of it all, a rectangle of lacquered wood taking up the middle of the floor space between the kitchen and the living room, big enough to put six chairs around.
It's a nice little cabin that would make a delightful place for a family to spend a week on vacation while hiking the trails or fishing in one of the local lakes maybe, a great place for a few buddies to set up as a base for hunting trips, or a cozy littlelove nest for a couple to spend some quality time on a romantic getaway.
My eyes linger on the man at the stove.
Talon has packages opened and laid out across the counter space at his side, a pot takes up one of the tiny stove top's back burners and steam rises from the skillet in front of him.
That t-shirt that clung to developed pecs and abs from the front, stretches to reveal an equally muscled back as it flexes along with his body with every movement of his arms.
The shirt remains tucked into the waistband of those dark pants, the ones with all the pockets along the front and sides, but that fit magnificently tight across an ass that has my mouth watering even more than whatever is cooking on the stove.
I could have hugged him earlier, if my stupid towel hadn't come apart where I'd tucked in together. If my stupid body was a few sizes smaller so that average bath towels fit around me well enough to stay tucked in.
Then I would have known what all that muscle feels like. He certainly didn't act like he was going to stop me when I was in his space with my arms halfway around his neck.
Maybe I'll find an excuse to hug him later. God knows that's the only way I'm likely to ever get that close to him.
To the side, I catch a shadow out of the corner of my eye and startle when it moves. The jump-scare has my heart pounding before I can turn on the overhead light that Talon must have turned back off when he made up his bed for the night.
With the corner fully illuminated, I can see the movement was from Talon's arm as he stirred the pot on the stove, throwing shadows across the open space from the kitchen lights.
"You okay?"
He turns around, giving me a worried look when he sees me still staring into the corner, my hand over my still frantic heart.
"Yeah. Just thought I saw something in the corner." My eyes want to look back at Talon, but they stay fixed on the corner, daring it to trick me again, as I move toward the kitchen with its brighter lights and the safety of the man there who isn't here just to protect me, but feels like he will.
CHAPTER FIVE
TALON
While we eat,Zona tells me her life story, easily handing over details of who she is and who the important people in her life are. She talks about family and her hometown, her job as a receptionist in an insurance office and her attempts to pass the licensing exams so she can step up from what she's doing now and move into a career position.
By the time we've washed the dishes and set them on the rack to dry, I know enough about this woman to blackmail her into doing anything I want, to kidnap her off the street, or to break into her house.
Of course, most people would only think of her openness as standard getting-to-know-each other conversation. Most people would also offer up just as many details about themselves.
That's not something I can do. So I tell her what I can; where I grew up, a family that included both parents and two older sisters, joining the Army at nineteen. After that, I find myself answering most of Zona's questions with vague replies or avoiding them altogether.
