He brought one dirty hand to the back of his neck and scratched at the skin there.
“I don’t…” His throat bobbed again. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”
Annie sighed.Here it comes.
“Then let me be frank,” she said, keeping her voice steady, though her nostrils flared with irritation. “A federal wildlife officer has the right to enter any land or water, public or private, in the performance of their duty. I don’t need your permission, but given the thousand signs you’ve posted, I gather that you’re keen on keeping your privacy up here, and I thought I’d do the decent thing by asking first.”
She had his attention now. He was gazing at her as though she herself were the cougar, crouched back on its haunches, tail flicking as it prepared to pounce.
For a moment, neither of them blinked. A three-second chess match. And then he cleared his throat quietly.
“All right. If I don’t have a choice, I guess I’ll leave the gate unlocked.” He angled his chin toward the lake. “There’s a trail on the west side. You can take that all the way around.”
Annie nodded, and it struck her suddenly that there was something familiar about this man. It was in the way he had looked at her, startled, when she told him she would be using his property whether he wantedher to or not. She’d seen that look before, those bright eyes and the dark brows that hooded them, though she couldn’t put her finger on when or where. She had never met him, she was sure of that, but where had she seen him? In town? No, that look was catching at something further back in her memory. Something from years ago.
As though he felt her trying to place him, his gaze dropped to the ground, and he scuffed at the gravel with the toe of his shoe. “You said you’re new in town. You like it so far?”
Annie’s brows rose at the unexpected question. The attempt at small talk.
“I do.” She nodded.Loosen him up. Compliment his land. Show him you’re not a threat.
She gestured to the lake behind him, the sunset light gone now, the water deep and amethyst with dark forest on all sides. “I’m still getting used to the woods up here, to be honest.” She laughed. “They’re incredible, really. The exact sort of place where you lose your mind, but find your soul.”
“John Muir.”
Annie’s eyes flew back to his face. “You know that quote?”
“Yeah, John Muir. You know, ‘Into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.’?”
For a second, Annie stood gaping at him as he scuffed the ground with his shoe again.
“Who are you?” she asked finally.
“Does it matter?” he asked with a too-casual shrug.
He was clamming up. Shutting down. He didn’t want her to know his name, and in response Annie pushed back harder.
“Not strictly speaking, but we’re neighbors.” She smiled. “I’m staying at the Proudys’ down the road. I just transferred up from Bend.”
At the wordBend, his nostrils flared, eyes widening for a split second.
Bingo. Bend. At some point, they must have crossed paths back in her hometown.
“You ever been down there?”
“No,” he said with a tight smile. “No, never. I’ve heard it’s beautiful though.”
He was lying. This man was lying straight to her face.
If there was one thing the job had taught her, it was how to spot when someone wasn’t telling the truth. Annie’s gaze slid upward, to the tiny beads of sweat rising along his hairline.
For a minute she said nothing, letting the silence swell between them, then she looked over his shoulder at the boathouse again. His home. Even from this distance, she could see the tanks of propane lined up along the dock, the firewood stacked up to the eaves behind the house, and a broken window that had been patched with cardboard.
What are you hiding back there?
“Quite the place,” she said.
He gave an unnecessary glance over his shoulder. “Thanks.”
