Page 99 of Shadow Sabotage
Claire’s face turned red. “Can you even ride a horse?”
“Of course I can ride a horse.” I rolled my eyes.
“I meanactual experience.Not just attending the Kentucky Derby or whatever your mom does for entertainment.” She scowled, but her lips twitched like she wanted to smile.
I grinned. “Yes. Actual experience. I may not be a cowboy, but I know what I’m doing in the saddle.”
She eyed me up and down, then shook her head. “Until I’ve seen you ride, I can’t approve you to ride with the horse team. If you’re not a skilled rider, you could get us all in trouble. But”—she held a hand up, seeing that I was about to protest—“it’s fine. You can come.”
She turned back to Cheyenne. “Skip Shadow. Just get your horses. You’ll be lead on the horse team anyway. I’ll be a ground pounder today.”
Cheyenne smiled. “Got it, boss.” Then she turned and jogged toward where Rhett had disappeared.
Claire turned toward me. “I need to change, and I’ve got to get my badge and my gear. Go back to your cabin and change into hiking gear if you have it. Grab your coat, gloves, hat—whatever you have. It’s going to be cold tonight. Meet me back here in fifteen.”
“Got it, boss,” I said, echoing Cheyenne’s words. I winked at Claire and thought I saw a little hint of pink flood her cheeks before she turned and marched toward the house.
Claire’s truckrattled as she flew down the highway, one hand on the wheel and the other on her phone.
“Take notes for me,” she said, pointing toward the glove compartment before putting the phone up to her ear.
I opened the compartment and found a notebook and a pen tucked inside. I pulled them out and waited.
“This is Deputy Claire Hawkins with the Sage County Sheriff’s Office,” she said to whoever had answered her call. “I’m following up on a missing person report. Who am I talking to?”
She switched the phone’s audio to speaker and put it in the console with a silent warning to me to be quiet.
A male voice came on the line. He sounded nervous. “Mitch. Mitch Donaldson.”
“Hi, Mitch. You can call me Claire. Are you the one who made the report?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what happened?”
“My friend Robin Frey went hiking this morning. She left at seven and said she would be back after lunch. But she never showed up and she’s not answering her phone.”
“Okay. Dispatch said her last known point was Lost Creek Trailhead. Is that correct?”
“Yes.” But there was hesitation in his voice.
Claire heard it too. She shot me a look.
“What are you not telling me?”
He didn’t answer right away. “Look, I don’t want to get her in trouble.”
“Being lost in the wilderness means she’s already in trouble,” Claire said. Her voice was firm but soothing. “I’m only here to make sure she’s safe, okay? That’s what I do. So tell me the whole story.”
His words came out in a rush. “Robin has a true crime podcast. She wanted to get some footage of the place where Katelyn was found. But the campground was closed. She looked on the map and saw that the trailhead runs right through there. She thought she could cut over, take a look at the crime scene, and get back without anyone knowing. Worse case, she would get told to leave, but she could say she was just a hiker who wandered off the trail.”
Claire’s lips flattened. I could see her visibly fighting back the responses shewantedto make, instead responding calmly.
“Okay. Have you heard from her at all since she began her hike?”
“No.”
“Where was she supposed to meet you after?”
