Mateo and Kyle ran up just then. Gage pointed and Kyle cursed.
“One thing my dad taught me,” Kyle said. “You don’t mess around with the weather out here. It rains, you get your ass somewhere safe.” He looked over at Gage. “You’ve got a sat phone, right? We need to call 911.”
Gage nodded. “I’ll take care of it.” The hand at Abby’s waist firmly urged her away from the disturbing scene. She let him guide her back to where the mule was tethered. Their packs rested on the ground nearby.
Gage took off his wraparound Ray-Bans and rubbed his eyes, then shoved the sunglasses back in place. He dug out his sat phone, activated it, and made the call, explaining what had happened and giving the 911 dispatcher the GPS coordinates of the victim’s body. The sheriff’s department would be responding. Gage promised to wait at the scene until law enforcement arrived.
“They’re bringing in a chopper,” Gage said. “We’ll need to make a statement once they get here.”
“I wonder who he is,” Abby said. “Or was.” She looked up to see Mateo quietly walking toward them, the dark skin over cheekbones stretched taut.
“I think he is one of the men who have been following us,” Mateo said.
“What the hell?” Gage frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Yesterday I spotted their tracks, three men, maybe more. Then it started raining.”
“And?”
“I wanted to be sure, but the rain destroyed any sign.”
“But you think a group of men have been following us and the dead guy was one of them.”
“Yes.”
Gage swore. “Let’s find out if you’re right.” He started walking, and Abby hurried to catch up with him.
“What are you doing?” Kyle asked as he joined them.
“The dead man’s fully dressed. Good chance he’s got ID somewhere on him.”
“What about the police?” Abby asked.
“Sheriff’s department,” he corrected. “We’ll tell them the truth—we searched the body trying to find some identification.” They reached the spot above the washout.
“Stay here,” Gage said. As if she had any desire to go near a dead man.
Kyle stood next to her, watching Gage and Mateo make the descent, picking their way carefully down the slope, then over the debris in the washout. The body appeared to be wedged in tight.
“Dad and I ran across an old skeleton once. Bones were scattered. Never found out who it was.” His gaze fixed on the body. “Not the same as this.”
“No . . .” Abby whispered.
Gage reached into one of the front pockets of the man’s jeans, then searched the other. Pulling out a black leather wallet, he stuck it into a deep pocket of his cargo pants. Both men climbed up from the washout.
“You found it,” Abby said when he returned.
Gage took out the wallet and flipped it open, read the guy’s driver’s license. “Boyd McGrath. Address on Lawrence Street in Denver.”
Adrenaline jolted through her. “Denver. It’s got to be them.”
“One of them, for sure. I took a good look at the body. Tall. Lean, broad-shouldered build. Could be the guy who attacked you.”
“Attacked you?” Kyle repeated. “What’s going on here?”
“It’s a long story,” Gage said. “You know we’re hunting gold. We didn’t tell you other people are also on the hunt. They believe we’ve got the information they need to find it. We hoped we’d left them in Denver.” He held up the wallet. “Doesn’t look that way.”
“Boyd McGrath . . .” Abby repeated. “Why does that name sound familiar?” Her head jerked up. “Oh, my God, I know who he is. I remember my cousin Jude talking about him. Boyd was in the military. Jude idolized him. I had a feeling my cousin had something to do with this.”
