This Fallen Prey (Rockton #3)(64)

“She’ll come to rest farther down,” he says. “It lets out into a small lake. We’ll get her there.”



We’re up on the cliffside with Cypher and Storm. Dalton has explained that he saw my yellow flag, and they’d been by it when Storm started howling. Which means I suspect she really had initially scented Dalton and only diverted when she smelled Val—the target I’d set her on. Doing as she’d been told, while her master freaked out, mistaking her for a feckless puppy.

When we reach them, Cypher has something for me. The young cougar.

“You went back for that?” I say.

“Fuck no. I was busy watching you two fools, in case you needed grown-up help. We found him”—he hefts the carcass—“up by your flag. When your pup started yowling, I grabbed the cat and . . .” He swings the cougar over his shoulders to demonstrate.

“And ran down the mountain with a hundred-pound cougar on your back?”

“Wasn’t going to leave him for scavengers. That’s some fine shooting. I’m guessing by the placement of those bullet holes the cat was midleap when you put them in him.”

I nod. “They didn’t kill him, though.”

“Disabled him. That’s all that matters. And you knew what to do next. Put the kitty out of his misery. See, now that’s what I need.”

“Someone to put you down?” Dalton says.

Cypher rolls his eyes. “I mean a girl like Casey to keep me company. Smart and pretty, a good conversationalist, knows how to take care of herself. If I found one who could cook and clean, too, I’d be set.” He looks at me. “What do you figure my odds are?”

“Excellent,” I say. “If you’re twenty-five, gorgeous, have a Ph.D., and can bench-press triple your body weight.”

“Two outta four ain’t bad.”

“Never knew you had a Ph.D.,” Dalton says.

“And the boy makes proper comeback. The next step? Make one that’s actually funny.”





34





Shortly after that, Cypher leaves us. He’ll drop off the cougar at his camp, where he insists on preparing the skin for me. We continue on to retrieve Val’s body, but we can’t find it. She’s out of sight by the time we reach the top of the cliffside, and we follow the stream along until we reach the lake where Dalton is certain her body will stop. We don’t see her there. At some point, her clothing must have caught again and submerged her body.

I’m not sure what we’ll do about this. I want to find her, obviously. But someone else is missing, too, someone who is almost certainly still alive: Jacob.

Dalton tells me his brother’s campsite seems to have been abandoned before the black bear found it. It’s a hunting camp—a basic tent, sleeping furs, and the backpack we saw the bear rummaging through. The only thing missing? Jacob. That could suggest he was just out hunting . . . if he hadn’t left his gun. And the food bag he’d hoisted into a tree was full.

“That makes no sense,” I say as we walk. “If Brady found Jacob at his camp, he’d take the gun and food.”

“Then he must not have found him at camp. Jacob could have been out scouting.”

“Without his rifle?”

Dalton shrugs. “Getting water then.”

“And you’re sure it was Jacob’s site?”

“One hundred percent. His gun. His pack.”

I want to say that I don’t think Jacob could be captured so easily. Or that Brady would have forced him back to take his supply stash. But, yes, Brady could have surprised Jacob, and he might not have realized Jacob would have food nearby.

“We’ll stop at Rockton,” he says. “Get Will and a couple of others and head out to look for Val.”

Which seems to be the right move. But it’s not. This winter, when we had a fatality in town, Anders had said, “I can’t fix dead.” It wasn’t just a gibe, though. It was hard truth.

We can’t fix dead.

Val is dead. Brady killed her. We know those two things; so autopsying her body will only tell us how he did it. Brady won’t ever see the inside of a courtroom, though, especially for anything he does up here.

I do want to put Val’s body to rest, but how much of that is about me and not her? She’s gone, and I blame myself, and I want to do something for her, and the only thing I can do is retrieve her remains. Would she care?

No. The only thing she’d care about is justice. If we think Brady might have taken Jacob, that’s all the more reason to focus on him.



We retrieve the ATV and return to Rockton. With everything that has happened, it feels as if it should be nightfall by now. Instead, it’s two in the afternoon, and we’re still able to grab a late counter-service lunch.

Dalton takes Anders, Jen, and another militia member and heads back on the ATVs to search for Val.

I stay behind. One of us should, and Dalton wants me to tend to my various scrapes and bruises and pulled muscles. When I don’t argue, he gives me a look, as if to ask what I’m up to, but I tell him I don’t want to slow them down, and someone does need to be here in case Brady circles back.

Plus, I have to tend to the wolf cub, change his dressings and look for signs of rabies. I think it’s the last excuse that convinces him. I’m still worried about Dalton’s bite, so that makes sense.