“Look, I’m not being irrational here,” she said. “A snowstorm is moving in, and my sister is still out there.”
He paused as if chewing on her words. “I’m going to be honest with you. Most of the other rangers are out trying to get ready for the snowstorm. I’m stuck here manning the station and can’t do much.
“But—”
“Realistically, she probably just took a scenic detour—unless you have reason to believe otherwise.”
Kori opened her mouth to argue. Then she realized she had nothing else to give him. No hard evidence of anything except for the bad feeling in her gut.
She was searching for the right combination of words—the ones that would make him understand she was correct, despite her lack of evidence—when the door behind her opened.
Cold air rushed in.
Most likely, it was another ranger coming in, another ranger with another round of platitudes andmost folks turn up just fine.She had to figure out how to make this guy take her seriously. Convincing people of things was what she did for a living.
Could she use those skills now when they mattered most?
Drawing in a deep breath, she glanced over her shoulder.
Sure enough, another ranger stood in the doorway, this one tall and younger with a German shepherd at his side. The dog’s ears were forward, and his intelligent, almost probing amber gaze was focused on her.
Her stomach tightened as she stared at the dog’s teeth.
She looked away. She couldn’t let her fear get the best of her.
Keep it together, Kori.You’ve faced down judges, juries, and people determined to intimidate you into silence. Don’t be undone by someone’s dog.
However, ever since one had bitten her when she was eight, she’d feared canines. The scar on her forearm offered a constant reminder.
The younger ranger’s eyes moved to Durbin then to her. Something shifted in his expression—not pity, not the patient skepticism Durbin had offered. Something more like attention.
She didn’t need a mirror to know her own body language spoke of desperation. Four hours of driving without stopping, still in her courthouse heels, nothing in her hands. Desperation wasn’t a good look for The Hammer. She preferred the tight and controlled version of herself. That was the one she usually presented in public.
She turned back to Durbin anyway.
She wasn’t leaving until she had the verdict she wanted.
Wyatt King studied the woman talking to Durbin.
She was dressed like someone who didn’t belong in the mountains—a blazer, heels that had no business on gravel, and long, dark hair that had probably been neat at some point.
Durbin had his patient face on—which was never a good sign. The man was practically counting down the days until his retirement. That was all he seemed to care about.
That fact drove Wyatt crazy. Durbin still had a job to do, despite his countdown.
But Wyatt was the new guy here. He didn’t carry much weight.
And he knew to stay in his lane.
He’d been out since early morning running a routine trail check on the north side of the forest when he’d found a trail camera mounted on a pine about forty yards off the main path, angled toward the trail.
He hadn’t touched it. The device was potential evidence, even if he couldn’t yet say what crime it might be connected with. Instead, he’d marked the coordinates and kept walking.
But he didn’t like the fact that he’d found the camera—and he didn’t like the possibilities as to why it was there. Nor did he like the fact that whoever had left it had probably seen Wyatt find it.
Wyatt offered a brief nod to Durbin before heading toward the hallway where his office was located.
As he did, he caught snippets of their conversation.
