But there were no signs of that here.
No scuffed earth, no broken undergrowth in a line that suggested someone had been hauled or half-carried anywhere. If Allison Finch had left the car on her own, she would have vanished like smoke. Of course, it had been months. Time and weather were not our friends out here.
I wiped sweat from my temple with the back of my hand and took a drink from my water bottle. It was already getting hot, and even though I’d prepared for it, the air was already stifling. Still, I enjoyed being outside and being part of the process. Every chance I got for SAR, I never hesitated to join. Tracking was more my speed if we were doing an active search for a missing kid or something, but I liked this too. It was rewarding. People could lie to themselves all they wanted about being selfless, but you needed to find meaning in the jobs you did and the ways you volunteered. Levi taught me that.
Making mental notes to myself about the terrain so I could log it later in my journal, I kept going until a flash of orange caught my eye to the right. One of the volunteers paused, bent briefly, then shook their head and moved on. Another non-discovery logged and forgotten.
My boot nudged something half-buried near a stump, and my pulse jumped before my brain caught up. I crouched, brushed dirt aside just to be sure, and let out a slow breath. Old beer can. Sun-bleached, crushed, probably tossed from the overlook years ago.
Somewhere downslope, Hattie laughed softly at something one of the search leaders said, the sound brief and instantly swallowed by the trees. It struck me then—the strange clash of her worlds.
Hattie and I had talked about the search for her sister and how it felt to be called back to another one. She’d done other searches since then, and she said they’d always been a little hard, but they were important. It made me realize how much I’d jumped the gun at the beginning. I’d been an absolute dick to her. Hattie was strong as hell, working in a profession that still caused her so much pain. I wanted to talk about her plans after this case. She made a few comments that led me to believe that she’d be open to staying. I’d love that more than anything.
By the time we reached the end of the line, my calves burned, and sweat made my shirt cling damply to my back. Marking the boundary tree, I tied off the last bit of flagging and keyed my radio.
“C–7 clear,” I said.
Acknowledgments came back one by one. Clear. Clear. Nothing. Nothing. It was what I expected, but I was still disappointed.
When we regrouped at the edge of the vista, the sun was lower, casting gold light through the trees. Faces were grim but unsurprised. Casper quietly talked with his team, already moving on to the next steps and locations. Hattie’s team wasn’t the only one hot on the trail of figuring out Barry Galloway’s movements. If Allison Finch’s body wasn’t here and this was just the dump site for the car, then it must be somewhere else. The problem was that cameras weren’t exactly standard on small-town roads, which was going to make this tough to figure out who left it here.
Hattie stood a few yards away, hands on her hips, her gaze turned back toward the forest as if she might memorize it through sheer will. We were both thinking of the fact that five months had left us all with no clues, but that didn’t mean we were done. I knew that Hattie felt the same way.
CHAPTER 38
Kipp
The Public House made me relax as soon as I stepped inside with that familiar smell of beer and peanuts hitting me as soon as I pushed the door open. My shoulders relaxed the moment I stepped inside. The place was alive with energy. Pool balls clacked in a corner, someone shouted for another round, and the speakers played a country song from about twenty years ago. The Public House was somewhere that I didn’t frequent often, but it was still nice to come to a place where nearly everyone recognized me.
My brothers made sure to pull me out for company at least a few times each month. Lately, I’d been plenty busy with Hattie, so I wasn’t quite as alone as I had been in the past. Even this trip into town had been fit in after a sweaty all-day search, but Hattie wasn’t missing hanging out with the girls. I wasn’t sure it qualified as a night out, and I’d said as much, but she didn’t seem to care.
Her hand swung in mine as we skirted around the tables. “This is very cowboy,” she whispered to me.
“Is it?” I smirked back. It really was. Line dancing had already started on the floor with hips swinging and boots stomping, which Hattie eyed with speculation. “You dance, Trouble?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased.
Wade and East had already commandeered a booth near the pool table. Wade lounged in his chair like a man who believed in conserving energy, while East sat forward with elbows planted and hands active as he talked. Both of them turned when we walked up.
“I’m going to leave you here.” Hattie twisted to give me a light kiss. “I see my table over there.”
No doubt about it. Her cheering section was already at their own booth. My sisters were waving her over, holding up what looked like margaritas and shots. Hattie had woken up this morning with her period, and shockingly, we were both unreasonably disappointed. We had to leave to meet up with CID and hadn’t fully processed it yet, but I wanted to talk to her about it later when we got home. A serious talk this time about what it meant, and where we were going together.
“Have fun.” Returning her kiss, I squeezed her hand, feelings flooding me as I headed over to my brothers.
“Therehe is,” Wade said, his grin slow and sharp. “We know you had to finish up with Casper, but Jesus, you two took forever.”
Snorting, I pulled out the empty chair. They were both still dusty and sweaty from the search. “Hattie wanted to freshen up before we came. Obviously, you two didn’t bother.”
Wade flicked a peanut shell at me, but East beat him to the punch, laughing so loudly the bartender sent him a glance that was the precursor to a warning. The Holt boys could get rowdy. We’d gotten past that now that we were grown-up, but there had been times we’d been a bit of a handful. “There were wipes involved, but it isn’t like we stink too bad.” East fluffed out his shirt and gave himself a whiff and then wrinkled his nose. “Maybe I should have changed my shirt?”
“You’re fine,” Wade said, but even he didn’t sound convinced.
I took Wade’s beer and drank half of it before he realized what I was doing. The cold bitterness hit my chest in a warm bloom, slowly loosening the tension I’d been holding since I left the site. Between starting the day, thinking about finding Allison’s body, and realizing that the grid search came up empty, I felt wrung out.
“Geez, dude. Rude. That’s yours now.” He wrinkled his nose at me, ignoring my grin.
“Fine.” I shrugged. Giving each other shit was basically a sport in our house growing up, and drinking his beer was me letting him get off easy at this point. “Thanks for coming out today.”
