Chilled (Bone Secrets, #2)(22)

The original theory was that Alex’s brother had been despondent over the death of a friend and decided to drown himself in the pool where she’d died.

But Alex had known it wasn’t suicide the moment the police called and told him they’d found his brother in the pool. Samuel wouldn’t kill himself. If only Alex had listened to Samuel’s sudden ramblings and complaints about one of his caretakers. If only Alex had followed up and double-checked Samuel’s statements with the owner of the facility where he’d lived. If only. If only.

Alex’s boot suddenly kicked something long and white out of the snow. His heart stopped and tried to leap up into his mouth. He halted his systematic tracking and stared, gaze immobile. Next to the white snow, the bone looked a dingy, old yellow.

“Brynn.” His voice came out as whisper, so he repeated with more strength, “Brynn!”

Everyone’s head jerked in his direction.

“Whatcha got?” Ryan bounded over in a flash, his interested eyes focused on the remains by Alex’s boot. Alex fought an impulse to cover up the bone, hide it from sight. Ryan’s eagerness seemed disrespectful. Almost wrong.

Ryan squatted, using his gloved hand to paw all the snow off the bone as the others walked up. They were silent, their quiet manner more appropriate for lost bones. Ryan snickered, and Alex wanted to kick him in the head.

“It’s a stick.” He lifted the stick and waved it at Alex. “You discovered a stick, dude. Nice job.”

Alex studied the pale stick that Ryan tossed to Brynn. It was smooth and as long as his thigh. Knobby on one end, but the other end showed a frayed break where it had clearly separated from a tree.

Brynn shot Alex a sympathetic glance as she tried to cover her amusement. “Reminds me of the human mandible you found one time, Ryan.” She tapped the stick against her palm and cast an assessing look at Ryan, a grin pulling at the corners of her lips.

Jim hooted and slung an arm around Ryan’s shoulders. “I remember that. Rocks can take amazing shapes. Alex’s stick looks a hell of a lot more human than your rock jaw did.” Ryan genuinely laughed, but he shoved Jim away. Jim winked at Brynn, who covered her mouth with a gloved hand.

“OK. I don’t think we’re going to find anything. Anything more, that is.” Brynn gave Alex a half smile. “Which way are we headed now? This way, right?” She gestured to the west.

“Only if you’re headed to the beach, darlin’.” Jim put his gloved hands on Brynn’s shoulders and turned her east. “This is the way. I thought you were going to have that problem looked at.”

Thomas snorted.

“What problem?” Alex watched Jim pat Brynn affectionately on the back.

“Brynn has no sense of direction. Even a compass or GPS can’t straighten her out.” Ryan hugged her and gave her a smacking kiss on one cheek. “But we love her anyway.”

Brynn blushed at the kiss and deftly stepped out of Ryan’s arms with a one-handed shove to his chest. Her brown eyes met Alex’s for the briefest second.

Had she pointed in the wrong direction to get the attention off his bone blunder?

Brynn was the mediator of the group. Always negotiating, getting between the others when the slightest argument started to surface. Like she couldn’t stand the littlest confrontation among the friends. But she definitely wasn’t scared to stand up for what she thought. She’d voiced her opinions without a qualm throughout the trip. But for some reason she didn’t like to see the men argue. Didn’t she know that was part of how men communicated?

“How much daylight do we have left?” she asked Thomas.

Thomas shrugged, squinting at the cloudy sky. “Three, four hours. Plenty of time to get in some yardage before looking for a place to sleep.”

Sleep? In the snow? Alex glanced around and shuddered. Tonight was clearly going to suck. “I don’t suppose you know of a Motel 6 up ahead?”

Thomas gave a short laugh, more like a bark. “Motel 6? Ha! Good one.” He flashed a rare grin.

“Motel 6 below,” Alex grumbled to himself at the next break. The temps were dropping along with the light. The sky had been slowly dimming for the past hour and he was starting to wonder where they’d make camp for the night. He used the break to take inventory of his borrowed pack. Along the hike, he hadn’t done more than locate the protein bars and water bottles. He stared into the pack and he realized he’d been a walking sporting goods store.

Thank you, Sheriff Collins.

Alex felt like an idiot as he found the sheriff’s stash of aspirin and Advil. He’d been carrying his own relief all morning while he suffered. Shaking his head, he dug out what looked like a kid’s belt with an odd circular triple pattern on the buckle. His hands were trembling slightly again, but he ignored them. He slid the adjustment straps back and forth. What in the hell was it for?

“It’s a headlamp,” Ryan spoke.

Alex blinked and stared at the “buckle,” finally realizing he was looking at three tiny LED bulbs. His fingers found a switch and he turned it on only to blink again as he blinded himself.

“Shit. Sucker’s bright.”

“Those lights will last for hundreds of hours.” Ryan grinned at his surprise.

Alex glanced around in the dimming daylight, noticing Jim and Thomas had slipped on their headlamps but hadn’t turned them on yet. He did the same, tightening the strap that he’d loosened enough to fit over Goliath’s head. He also found dry clothing, two types of Leatherman tools, wire, pliers, needles, thread (which he hoped was for clothing repair, not skin), water purification tablets, duct tape, carabiners, and nylon rope. He stared at the heat sheets crammed into bags the size of his fist, remembering that in certain situations the millimeter-thin silver blankets could make the difference between life and death. He snorted at the sunscreen and was tickled to find a package of baby wipes. He ripped one out and washed his face in relief, then rubbed at the ground-in mud on his pants.