Monty accepted the handshake. “Fish and Wildlife Captain Monty Buckley.”
Laurel released his hand and stepped to the side, getting her first view of a table under the tent. “Oh.”
Monty nodded. “We’ve found remains from at least eight bodies and probably more.”
Huck’s gut rolled. “Shit.” He turned and looked up the hill. “What’s the theory?”
Monty scratched ice off his head. “The theory is that the bodies were all tossed over the cliff from the main trail rather than coming from above said trail, where the first muddy avalanche started. When the snow pushed the kids and their UTVs over the side, they actually rolled over and disturbed the bodies, which were unearthed and tumbled with them. We have a lot of retrieval to do, so I probably would’ve called you in eventually.”
Huck didn’t argue, but nobody called him in unless they were desperate, and it was still too early for that.
A dog barked twice from the darkness below. “Sounds like we found another body,” Monty muttered.
Laurel looked up the hill. “If the kids hadn’t caused the slide earlier, what are the chances of the bodies ever being discovered?”
Monty shook his head. “Off the trail, it’s nearly a cliff, and the land drops even farther yards away. People ride and hike that trail, but over the cliff, it’s almost impassable, and sometimes the snow remains all year.”
Laurel looked at the various bones on the table. “So it’s possible the bodies never would’ve been found.” She sounded as if she was talking to herself. “He didn’t want them to be found.” She stepped around Monty and moved toward the folding table.
Huck fought the urge to stop her. There was no need to protect an FBI agent from the gruesome sight, so why were his instincts kicking in?
She leaned over to see better. “These are all in different stages of decomposition.” Then she straightened and looked over her shoulder. “We need to get these packaged and sent to the ME’s office as we find them rather than waiting until we have more.”
“We’re already on that.” Monty pointed toward the open flap of the other tent, which revealed a couple of techs carefully bagging up body parts.
Huck didn’t want to look at the two skulls, complete with tufts of stringy hair.
Laurel leaned closer to the remains. “What are these bite marks?”
Huck blew out a breath and moved unwillingly toward her, where he pointed at the deep cuts. “Those are coyote and those are owl. The smaller ones could be anything. We aren’t going to find all of the pieces, Agent. You need to know that.”
She looked up, and those intriguing dual-colored eyes shone bright. “We’ll find more than we want. We always do.”
A chill skittered down his spine.
Chapter Five
The gelid wind hurled ice against the front windshield as if possessed by a hunger to infiltrate the warm truck cab.
Laurel huddled in the heavy coat, her hands splayed on her legs as engine heat bombarded the interior of the truck. She kept silent while Huck fought to keep the vehicle on the road and the dog snored in his crate in the back seat. She turned to double check the UTV strapped to the truck bed. Snow and ice already covered the metal.
Huck took a turn, somehow seeing even when she couldn’t.
“Thank you for driving me,” Laurel said, mindful of manners.
Huck grunted.
All right, so she might not have given him a chance to refuse, considering she’d climbed back into his truck when the storm became too harsh for anybody to stay on the mountain. It was morning but still dark. “If you don’t mind my asking, what’s the problem between you and Buckley?” Even though Huck was supposed to be on vacation, and his arrival had surprised Buckley, there was something more at play—a sense of distrust. Laurel had watched the interaction between Huck and the rest of the officers, and frankly, there hadn’t been much as Huck worked the scene with his dog and found two more bodies. She needed to know what kind of dynamic she was dealing with here.
Huck didn’t answer. The truck slid toward a tree and he swore, pressing the brake and then the gas pedal in a smooth motion that kept them on the road.
She shivered. “Huck?”
“There’s no problem between Buckley and me.” Huck’s voice didn’t invite more discussion.
Fine. She’d figure that out later. “Where are we going?” She couldn’t see a thing.
“My place. It’s close.”
