Page 193 of Hidden Nature

And educated more than one camper about how to stow food unless they wanted a roaming bear to pay a call.

She spotted a couple herself, as anxious to keep their distance from her as she from them.

And she watched a vixen taking a mouse back to her kits in her burrow while songbirds filled the woods with wing and calls.

She sat in Travis’s office after filing her daily reports.

“How about an update on Elana?”

“I could write up her eval right now. I don’t see it changing in the next few weeks.”

“And what would it be?”

“She loves the work, and it shows. She listens, learns, and applies. She’s excellent with people, just naturally personable. Could be a little more firm when that’s needed, but that’ll come. She’s good at keeping it light, focusing on the educational aspect of the job. Physically, she’sdamn near tireless. She rarely complains, and then it’s more of an observation or a joke. She works well with a team when assigned to one.”

“No downside?”

“Well, she tolerates bullshit more than I would, but that’s her nature. I’ve found her good backup when we have a dicey situation. With more experience she’ll be better at it.”

“Keep on the training for, let’s say through the spring season. Then I’ll toss another one at you.”

“I’ll catch them.”

“Counting on it. Now tell me how it’s going with the missings.”

“I wish I could tell you there’s been real progress. If the FBI or the law enforcement officers have made any, they’re not saying. I think O’Hara would. We talk at least once a week. I have one more possible victim from last May. Female, twenty-three. Alyce—with ay—Otterman. She worked in a bar in Morgantown, sporadically. Had a history of just taking off, coming back, taking off again. An oxy addict, did some sex work to pay for it, has a sheet for that and for assault.

“OD’d last March, collapsed right on the street. They lost her twice, got her back. She rolled on the dealer so didn’t do time, sixty days in rehab, mandatory. When she got out, she went into a halfway house—voluntarily. Two weeks after she went in, May twenty-fifth, she vanished.”

“Not surprising, Sloan.”

“No, but her counselor states she was doing well, sticking to it. And she took nothing with her. No clothes but what she was wearing. She left sixty dollars rolled up in her underwear. If she was going to walk, why leave sixty bucks behind?”

“You said she rolled on her dealer.”

“Yeah, and I have to factor that. He was still in, but sure, he had friends who’d be willing to take care of her. Still, no trace of her? Wouldn’t you want her body found? A warning against talking to the cops?”

“Or?”

“Yeah, or? She slipped, got another taste, and decided:Fuck this, I’m out of here. A lot of ors, Cap, but one’s that she fits the victim profile. So.” She shrugged. “I’m looking.”

“Good, because playing devil’s advocate aside, I agree with you. You’re a damn good sergeant, and God knows a tenacious investigator. Just don’t wear yourself too thin, Sloan.”

“I won’t. Give me another month, and I’ll be planting flowers or sitting on my new front porch drinking my morning coffee.”

“Go home, and enjoy your weekend off. I’ll see you Monday morning.”

“I’m ready for the weekend.” She rose. “Even if I’m called in.”

She hoped not.

Things were happening at her house, and she wanted in on it. She planned to scrape the damn popcorn off her bedroom ceiling, prime the walls, then paint them with the calm, soothing gray she’d picked.

Like a cloudy sky, she thought, that made you want to snuggle in and sleep.

She hoped.

And she wouldn’t feel her mood plummet every day she walked in there. She’d leave the exterior work to the crew, but it was past time she got her hands on her own house.

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