“It’s a boathouse?”
“Used to be. Converted now.”
Annie swiped an insect from her forearm without looking down. “Well, you seem good and ready for the apocalypse up here.” Her tone was light, but her eyes were serious, and he gave a stuttering laugh in reply.
He wants me out of here.
Another beat of silence passed between them, then he said, “Well, I’ll keep an eye out for the cougar.”
It was an obvious attempt to steer the conversation back to why she’d come, to wrap it up. The first drop of sweat was sliding down his temple, and Annie watched it all the way to his jaw before she nodded toward the forest again, launching into a list of things he should be on the lookout for. As she used her fingers to show the size of the animal’s tracks and detailed exactly what its scat looked like, he nodded along, his expression mildly interested, nothing more.
When she was finished with her lecture, Annie cleared her throat and fished a small white card from her shirt pocket. On it, she’d writtenher name and the number of the landline in her room at the Proudys’. She offered it to him through the gate.
He took it, his fingertips smearing the edges with dirt.
“That’s my number. If you see any tracks or if you hear him, and believe me, you’ll know if you do, give me a call.” She reached out and double-tapped the card with a finger. “Annie Heston.”
She waited, eyebrows raised, for him to offer his name in return.
“I’m Daniel,” he said after a pause. “Daniel Barela.”
“Daniel Barela,” she repeated, and he nodded once. “It’s nice to meet you, Daniel. Give me a call if you hear the cougar. Day or night.”
He flipped her card over, and back again.
There was nothing left to say, and Annie turned toward the Jeep, reaching for the door handle.
“See you around,” she said as she climbed inside.
“See you,” he muttered, and she closed the door with a bang.
It took several minutes of inching forward and reversing before she managed to turn the Jeep around on the narrow dirt lane. As she backed up for the final time and pulled away, she took one last look in the rearview mirror at the man on the other side of the gate.
He had not moved, but stood tight-jawed where she had left him, turning the soiled card over and over in his hands.
Chapter 7ANNIE
Brought you something.”
Jake shouldered his way through the station door and stepped inside. In one of his hands was a crinkled paper bag emblazoned with a Sasquatch giving a thumbs-up, and in the other, a steaming styrofoam cup, both of which he placed on the desk in front of Annie.
Annie looked up from the stack of forms in front of her. “Really?”
He nodded.
“Thanks”—she reached for the coffee—“that was nice of you.”
“Well, it wasn’t my idea, exactly. Mom called. She said you didn’t eat breakfast before you left this morning, and she was worried.”
Annie laughed and took a sip. “That sounds about right. What’s in the bag?”
“Maple bar from Bigfoot’s next door. I know I said Mom’s strawberry-rhubarb pie was the best thing you’d ever eat, but just wait until you try that.”
Annie lifted the doughnut from the bag. “Want half?”
“Nope. Already had two. Riding a crazy sugar high right now.”
Jake walked around the counter and dropped into his seat, proppingboth feet up on the desk with a contented sigh. “What do you have going on today?”
