wasn’t.”
“Jeez, Jake.” Rachel jumped up and also started helping. “You talk like he discovered a dead body.”
“No, not that.”
“Thank goodness.”
“It was evidence of illegal mining.”
“L OOK FOR A NUMBERED marker around the next bend.”
“Gotcha.”
Neil downshifted into a lower gear and floored the gas. The Jeep bounced and banged over rocks and rain washes with every foot of rugged mountain terrain they covered. Veering sharply to the right, he narrowly avoided a sprawling ponderosa. As it was, a low-hanging branch scraped across the Jeep’s canvas top. The noise was momentarily deafening.
“Take it easy, will you?” Neil’s deputy, R.J., flopped around in the front passenger seat. Clutching the grab bar, he jammed the soles of both feet into the floorboard. “I’d like to get there with all my bones intact, if you don’t mind.”
Neil shifted again as they crested the top of a small hill. The trail they’d taken was minimally maintained, narrow and designed for horses or ATVs, not full-size vehicles. The fact he and R.J. had made it this far was a testament to the Jeep’s sturdiness and, Neil liked to think, his ability as a driver.
He’d discovered a passion for off-road driving soon after moving to Payson, never having encountered anything like it in New York City or the outskirts of Schenectady, where he’d grown up. The sheriff’s department’s standard issue Jeep didn’t compare to his own tricked-out, four-wheel-drive pickup, but he still pushed the older vehicle for everything it had, relishing the rush of adrenaline surging through him.
Challenging himself with an almost unnavigable trail had the added benefit of keeping troublesome thoughts at bay—like Carolina and her promise not to do the story on him. He still didn’t know whether he could believe her or not. And her warning that his daughter would learn the part he’d played in her mother’s death was disrupting his sleep, dulling his appetite and affecting his mood. He’d have to be more careful in the future. Just this morning at breakfast Zoey had asked him if anything was wrong. He hated lying to her, but what choice did he have?
“Are you on a suicide mission or what?” R.J. swore as the GPS device he’d been holding went flying.
“This is nothing,” Neil answered. And it was.
“Says you.”
“Hang on!” He cranked the steering wheel hard to the left.
Thankfully, the old Jeep didn’t let him down. Its tires hugged the ground, sending dirt and small rocks spraying in every direction. The sense of power revived Neil, and he wished he could control everything in his life with the same ease he did the Jeep.
“Damn it to hell,” R.J. complained when his cowboy hat collided with the sun visor, shoving the brim down over his eyes. He pushed it back up and blinked. “Slow down, for Pete’s sake. We’re not in a race.”
Neil let up on the gas only when they reached the top of the next small hill. At the bottom a pair of pickup trucks and three ATVs were parked, reminding him that the reason for their wilderness adventure was business, not pleasure.
He pulled up alongside the closest truck and cut the engine. Two men—one young, one older, neither of whom he recognized—were removing kerosene lanterns from a crate in the bed of the truck and lighting them. Good thing. The sun was quickly disappearing beneath the distant mountaintops, andany minute now they would be swallowed by darkness and surrounded by cold.
Across the gully, seven more people had gathered together on a slope that looked no different than the half-dozen others in the immediate area—except for the crude, gaping hole in the side, four feet high by three feet wide. Neil was no authority, but even he realized the hole was not a product of Mother Nature.
He and R.J. exited the Jeep. Opening the rear compartment, they grabbed their jackets, a pair of flashlights, a toolbox and a roll of yellow crime-scene tape before
“Jeez, Jake.” Rachel jumped up and also started helping. “You talk like he discovered a dead body.”
“No, not that.”
“Thank goodness.”
“It was evidence of illegal mining.”
“L OOK FOR A NUMBERED marker around the next bend.”
“Gotcha.”
Neil downshifted into a lower gear and floored the gas. The Jeep bounced and banged over rocks and rain washes with every foot of rugged mountain terrain they covered. Veering sharply to the right, he narrowly avoided a sprawling ponderosa. As it was, a low-hanging branch scraped across the Jeep’s canvas top. The noise was momentarily deafening.
“Take it easy, will you?” Neil’s deputy, R.J., flopped around in the front passenger seat. Clutching the grab bar, he jammed the soles of both feet into the floorboard. “I’d like to get there with all my bones intact, if you don’t mind.”
Neil shifted again as they crested the top of a small hill. The trail they’d taken was minimally maintained, narrow and designed for horses or ATVs, not full-size vehicles. The fact he and R.J. had made it this far was a testament to the Jeep’s sturdiness and, Neil liked to think, his ability as a driver.
He’d discovered a passion for off-road driving soon after moving to Payson, never having encountered anything like it in New York City or the outskirts of Schenectady, where he’d grown up. The sheriff’s department’s standard issue Jeep didn’t compare to his own tricked-out, four-wheel-drive pickup, but he still pushed the older vehicle for everything it had, relishing the rush of adrenaline surging through him.
Challenging himself with an almost unnavigable trail had the added benefit of keeping troublesome thoughts at bay—like Carolina and her promise not to do the story on him. He still didn’t know whether he could believe her or not. And her warning that his daughter would learn the part he’d played in her mother’s death was disrupting his sleep, dulling his appetite and affecting his mood. He’d have to be more careful in the future. Just this morning at breakfast Zoey had asked him if anything was wrong. He hated lying to her, but what choice did he have?
“Are you on a suicide mission or what?” R.J. swore as the GPS device he’d been holding went flying.
“This is nothing,” Neil answered. And it was.
“Says you.”
“Hang on!” He cranked the steering wheel hard to the left.
Thankfully, the old Jeep didn’t let him down. Its tires hugged the ground, sending dirt and small rocks spraying in every direction. The sense of power revived Neil, and he wished he could control everything in his life with the same ease he did the Jeep.
“Damn it to hell,” R.J. complained when his cowboy hat collided with the sun visor, shoving the brim down over his eyes. He pushed it back up and blinked. “Slow down, for Pete’s sake. We’re not in a race.”
Neil let up on the gas only when they reached the top of the next small hill. At the bottom a pair of pickup trucks and three ATVs were parked, reminding him that the reason for their wilderness adventure was business, not pleasure.
He pulled up alongside the closest truck and cut the engine. Two men—one young, one older, neither of whom he recognized—were removing kerosene lanterns from a crate in the bed of the truck and lighting them. Good thing. The sun was quickly disappearing beneath the distant mountaintops, andany minute now they would be swallowed by darkness and surrounded by cold.
Across the gully, seven more people had gathered together on a slope that looked no different than the half-dozen others in the immediate area—except for the crude, gaping hole in the side, four feet high by three feet wide. Neil was no authority, but even he realized the hole was not a product of Mother Nature.
He and R.J. exited the Jeep. Opening the rear compartment, they grabbed their jackets, a pair of flashlights, a toolbox and a roll of yellow crime-scene tape before
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