Alone in the Wild (Rockton #5)(95)

She flinches and then her face hardens, as if she wants to snap something back. She can’t, though. The only comeback would be to accuse him of equal weakness, equal sentimentality. Whatever impression Dalton’s made on her, it must not be that.

After a moment, she says, “You are right. I am sorry for this woman’s death. I’m just concerned about Sidra.”

“As am I,” Baptiste says. “I don’t want to fight over who is more concerned. We both are. Now, can we try to find her? Please?”

“Could you show us the spot where she disappeared?” I ask. “Our dog can track scents.”

He frowns. Again, I’m looking for signs, this time of worry, of panic. I see only confusion and then surprise and then relief.

“Your dog?” He looks at Storm. “She’s a hunting dog?”

“Just for people,” I say. “Residents wander into the forest and disappear. She’s trained to bring them back.”

“Eric’s the Rockton sheriff,” Petra says. “Casey is his detective. Finding things is her job. Down south, finding killers was her job.”

He doesn’t hesitate at that. Again, he looks relieved. “So you’ll find who killed Ellen?”

Am I certain that’s relief? It certainly seems like it. Dalton is watching him with equal care. He’s seen the gun. He’s figured it out.

Is this not the gun that shot Ellen? Or was Sidra the person holding it, and Baptiste knows nothing about that? Or did Baptiste fire it mistaking Ellen for a hostile, maybe hoping to injure and question one about Summer?

So many possibilities. At this point, all I can say is that my gut tells me that if Baptiste is a killer, he’s an accidental one, and Lane misunderstood the situation and is covering for him.

“Was Sidra taken here?” Dalton says, startling me from my thoughts as he looks around. “Someone camped here. I’m guessing that was you.”

Baptiste frowns and follows Dalton’s gaze to the campsite just beyond. He shakes his head. “No, this wasn’t us.”

“Not you last night?” Dalton says. “Or not you at all?”

“Not us at all. We have a permanent winter site closer to the mountain, with better shelter. This is someone’s temporary camp.” Baptiste walks into it and looks around.

“There’s evidence that animals were slaughtered,” I say. “A hunting camp?”

Dalton has followed Baptiste, and they’re both poking around. After a few minutes, Dalton says, “Overnight camp. They killed their dinner, and maybe a little more to-go, but that’s it.”

“It isn’t the wild people,” Baptiste says. “We haven’t seen anyone else in days.” He turns to us. “What if it was a lone hunter who stole Sidra? There are a few of those around. There’s a big man who calls himself Cypher. Sidra doesn’t like him so we stay away. There’s a younger man, Jacob, who we’ve traded with…”

He turns slowly to Dalton, who’s bundled up, with a hat and hood, but now he takes a closer look and says, “Oh.”

“Yeah, that’d be my brother.”

“I … I’ve heard stories. Yes, all right. I don’t mean to blame your brother for anything. I just thought, what if a man was hunting and saw Sidra…”

“Jacob’s hunting far from here. Tyrone Cypher is in Rockton right now. But, yeah, I take your point. Some guy could have been passing through, saw Sidra, and waited for her to leave your shelter last night.”

“More than one person stayed in this camp,” I say. “I found multiple boot prints. One isn’t much bigger than mine, which suggests a woman. That’s why I thought it was your camp. A man and a woman…” I trail off.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Dalton says.

I nod.

Dalton sighs. “Fuck.”





THIRTY-NINE


Who do we think camped here? The couple I accidentally set on Baptiste and Sidra’s trail.

No, let’s be honest. The “accident” is that I hadn’t meant to endanger this young couple, but that’s because I’d been thinking abstractly. I offered Cherise an irresistible reward for finding Abby’s parents. I just lacked the foresight, in that moment, to see “Abby’s parents” as people who might be endangered by me setting a dangerous woman on that quest.

I’d realized my mistake the moment I made the offer, which is why we’d labored to make it ironclad, in hopes of protecting Abby’s mother from Cherise’s ruthlessness. Even if we’d rescinded it, though, Cherise would know how valuable this information was, and she’d search for Abby’s mother in hopes of a reward. The only thing we could do was close off loopholes.

It wasn’t enough.

Earlier, Felicity told me I was wrong for making the offer. She might not have said much more then. She does now. I take my lumps, even as Dalton and Petra come to my defense. Baptiste says he understands why I did it, and he’s grateful that I was so anxious to reunite Summer with her parents. He’s cutting me slack, being kind, while I see the worry in his eyes.

In the end, all I can do is apologize, while Dalton insists that Sidra is in no actual danger.

“We were very, very clear on the stipulations of the deal,” Dalton says. “We don’t pay out until we see the baby’s mother and confirm she hasn’t been hurt. Yeah, Cherise is going to make Sidra spin us some bullshit story about how she went with Cherise voluntarily, but we know better. We’ll get Sidra back, and tell Cherise where she can stick her deal.”