Page 67 of Fake Date with the Mountain Man

“That sucks, man.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugs. “Kayla isn’t my type anyway. I like the sweet, nice girl types…you know, the ones who seem like they were born to be a schoolteacher.”

I laugh because I know exactly what he means. And one person in particular comes to mind.

“Hey, so this might be weird, but I have a friend who you might hit it off with. If you’re interested in meeting her, she’susually at the bar on Fridays. I could just casually introduce the two of you if you want.”

Emmett ponders this for a second and then nods. “Yeah, that’d be cool.”

And that’s the end of it.

A small dark red sedan comes into view in the middle of a clearing ahead of us. There’s no one in sight. All four windows are rolled down.

We park a short way behind it and hop out of the truck. Emmett follows my lead, approaching the vehicle with caution. Even in the worst-case scenario, I’ve never had an issue with these types of calls, so I’m not worried even if I err on the side of caution.

Then the smell hits us. An overwhelming stench of death. We both pause. Emmett throws his arm over his nose and mouth, while I tent my collar and breathe into my shirt. I’m not a stranger to this smell. I’ve come across plenty of dead animals in my travels through the forest. Everything from a squirrel to an elk, but this is different.

I motion for Emmett to hang back behind me, and he seems more than willing to comply. My hand is on my gun, already unsnapping the holster.

“Hello?” I call out to the vehicle. “Anybody there?”

No answer.

“This is the US Forest Service. We’re here to do a wellness check,” I say over my quiet footsteps.

No answer again.

The first thing that I can see through the open window is a pair of dirty blue jeans, tented at the bend of the knee. Next, the bottom hem of a gray shirt comes into view. And then…so much blood.

I snap my holster back into place and rush to the window. It’s a man, maybe a little older than me, with a bullet wound to his head.

Turning on my heel, I move to keep Emmett back, but I can tell that he’s already seen nearly as much as I have. He’s white as a ghost, but a little green around the edges. He cups a hand over his mouth and darts off in the opposite direction. I hear him heaving a few seconds later.

Honestly, I can’t blame him. This isn’t the first body I’ve come across out here, but it’s been a long time. Hunter and I had the misfortune of finding one in a remote area where we were supposed to put up some fencing. That one was badly decomposed. When we called it in, I remember saying that we found ‘human remains’ in the area, which seemed fitting. But those words don’t fit now.

I force myself to look inside one more time, just for a couple of seconds, so that I have all the information I need to call it in. Taking a deep breath and holding it in my chest, I glance over the windowsill. There’s a handgun on the floor, just under his stiff fingers.

Emmett is sticking to the edge of the clearing as I turn around and head for the truck. I nod for him to join me there, and he takes the least direct route, sticking to the tree line and widely avoiding the vehicle.

I call it into dispatch as a probable suicide. Then I tell Emmett that he can stay in the truck if he wants. He half-heartedly offers to help but I tell him that there’s nothing for us to do until backup gets here. It’s mostly true.

It’s also true that I’m just as freaked out as he is, but a hell of a lot better at hiding it.

Chapter 25

MARLOW

Hunter trots by my office like he’s on a mission. His jacket is clutched in one hand and his gun belt is strapped across his hips. I’ve always known that Hunter’s background is in law enforcement, but I’ve never seen wear a gun in the office before.

He stops abruptly outside my doorway, sighs heavily, and turns to face me. Pressing his palms to the side of my door frame, he leans in and speaks quietly.

“I’m headed up to Eagle Ridge. There was a problem with that abandoned vehicle that Ryan went to check out.”

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

Hunter doesn’t answer right away. My stomach flutters nervously and my throat goes dry. He takes a couple steps forward until his palms are on the back of one of my guest chairs.

Even more quietly, he says, “Yeah, Ryan’s fine, but there was a body in the vehicle. Probably a suicide.”

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