CHAPTER 9
GRIFF
She didn’t slamthe door. She didn’t have to. The silence that filled the cabin after she walked out was louder than any storm that had ever howled across these mountains.
And still, I sat on my ass and did nothing.
Not because I didn’t care, but because I cared too much.
The folder she found sat open on the counter where she’d left it. There were the sheriff’s reports, the notes I’d jotted down, printouts of email threads between Caleb and the county zoning board. It was full of evidence that something had been going on long before his body was found at the bottom of that cliff.
And I’d kept it from her. Not because I wanted to lie, but because I didn’t want her to carry the same weight I did.
I thought I could protect her by keeping the truth buried. That if I gave her peace, she’d be safe until I could figure everything out on my own. But all I’d done was prove I didn’t trust her.
That look on her face—fucking hell, I’d take a bullet to erase it.
I dropped my head into my hands and let out a slow, ragged breath. Scout lifted his head from where he laid on the dog bed and let out a low whine, like he knew something was wrong.
“I know, boy. I fucked up.”
He padded over and leaned against my leg, warm and solid and steady in the way only dogs know how to be. I scratched behind his ears and stared at the flames flickering low in the woodstove. They’d need another log soon.
So would Juniper.
A gust of wind rattled the windowpane, and something deep inside me clicked.
She wasn’t coming back. She’d left with nothing but that damn flannel shirt and the fire in her eyes. No coat. No flashlight. No umbrella. And with the sky growing darker by the minute, she was walking straight into trouble.
“Shit.” I shot to my feet, my heart pounding like my hammer on steel, hard and fast. How long had she been gone? Fifteen minutes? Twenty?
Whatever it was, it had been too damn long.
I yanked on my coat, grabbed my rifle and pack, and slung my flashlight across my chest. Scout paced near the door, tail stiff, sensing my urgent need to get to her.
“You’re staying here,” I told him, even though I hated the idea. “Keep an eye on the place. I’ll be back with both of them.” He tilted his head, like he doubted my ability to pull it off. “I promise.”
Determined to come through, I yanked the door open and stepped into the storm. The air slapped me in the face, wet and biting cold. Sleet mixed with snow, the wind howling like something alive. This was the kind of weather that turned quick and mean. The kind that had taken more than one hiker off the mountain and left only bones behind.
Branches whipped in the wind. The trail was already filling with slush and mud. I kept my head down and boots steady, my breath fogging the air in heavy bursts.
She’s not built for this,the voice in my head whispered.
She doesn’t know the terrain.
She’s alone.
But she was smart. She would have headed straight to the lodge. It was too dangerous for her to have gone farther than that. Please, let her be at the lodge.
My muscles burned as I pushed through the trees, every step more urgent than the last. Even the wildlife had gone silent, hunkering down for the weather. The mountain was holding its breath, trying to ride out the storm. So was I.
Finally, the edge of the clearing came into view. The lodge sat in its usual place, dark against the gray sky, smoke curling from the chimney. The SUV parked at the edge of the trees. The curtains were drawn, but a light glowed from inside.
I stumbled toward the porch, my lungs burning. She was here. I pounded on the door. “Juniper!”
Nothing. I knocked again, louder.
“Juniper, open up! It’s me!”
