Watcher in the Woods (Rockton #4)(69)



My brows shoot up.

He shrugs. “Some people get here and can’t wait to try hunting. Some say hell no. That was Sebastian.”

“He’d rather do chopping duty?”

“Apparently.”

“Interesting.”





TWENTY-NINE

We’re on body retrieval. It’s me and Anders for this. Dalton got called off on a problem, and it’s probably best if he sticks around town, considering we’ll both be gone tomorrow. That was Anders’s reasoning. I tried to talk him out of it—after his army experience he doesn’t need to see more death—but he insists.

We take the big ATV, the wide one that will let us transport Valerie and Brady, one at a time. We leave Storm behind. Dead bodies make her anxious. Hell, they don’t make anyone happy, but Storm doesn’t need to come along, so she stays with Dalton.

Eventually, we need to leave the main trail, and the ATV won’t go on the narrow path. That means walking. It will also mean carrying the bodies back in a stretcher.

As we walk, I tell Anders about the bullet mixup.

“Ouch,” he says. “How’s Eric handling that?”

“Not well.”

“He won’t. But . . . I hate to say this, but it’s not entirely a bad thing. Eric’s still learning that he’s not the pro anymore, at least not when it comes to investigating. Better that he screws up on small things, easily fixed, and learns his lesson. Does that sound patronizing?”

“No, you’re right. My first partner would let me make mistakes, just to show that the hotshot young college grad hadn’t known as much as she thought she did. At first, I thought he was undermining me. Then I realized he never let me mess up when it made a difference, and he never told our superiors about my mistakes. It taught me that experience trumps education.”

“Yep, and that’s a lesson Eric’s still learning. It’s not his fault. He’s had to step up, which may be partly my fault. He does know what he’s doing, most of the time, so I didn’t question. I’m a good army boy, as he likes to remind me.”

“He doesn’t mean it as an insult.”

“No, but he does mean it as a kick in the ass. A reminder that I’m a little too quick to follow orders, too quick to trust that my superior officers know what they’re doing.” He peers ahead. “How much farther?”

“Just up ahead.”

I start marching toward it, but Anders catches my arm. He doesn’t say anything, just rubs his finger against my forearm. I pause and take a deep breath.

“I could say that you didn’t have a choice shooting Val,” he says. “But that’s bullshit.”

I stiffen.

“You chose this job,” he says, “like I chose to be a solider. And neither of us got into it because we wanted to kill people. We got into it despite that. Despite knowing it might come to that.”

I glance over at him.

He releases my arm and eases back, hands going into his pockets. “When I signed up for the army, I was supposed to be a medic, and that suited me just fine. Saving lives, not taking them. Then there was a skirmish, in the barracks, and I handled it, and someone decided I made a better cop than a medic. Still, I figured, that’s cool, at least I won’t see actual combat.” He shakes his head. “Didn’t quite turn out that way.”

I squeeze his hand, but he keeps talking, lost in his thoughts. “I spent a lot of time thinking ‘This is not what I signed up for.’ It’s not fair. I got tricked. That’s bullshit. I joined the army. This was what I signed up for. Yes, I didn’t want to see combat. I wanted to support the troops in other ways. But if I had to fight, and I whined about it, did that mean I thought I was better than them? That I deserved better? Safer? Easier?”

He shakes his head. “People talk about soldiers, about cops. They disagree with war. They disagree with how we handle crime. That’s fine. You know what? I agree. But someone still has to do the job. It’s better if it’s someone like us, someone who gives a damn. Someone who’s going to feel it.”

He looks over at me. “Feeling it’s not a bad thing, Casey. It just sucks that we have to. It really, really sucks.”

I lean against his shoulder. “It does. Thanks. I did sign up for this. And I hope it always hurts. That I always second guess and wonder whether I had another option. With Val, it feels like I didn’t stop to process. I think that’s the worst. It feels like it did with Blaine. No thought; just reaction.”

“And if you could go back?” he asks softly.

“Honestly?” I exhale. “I’m glad I didn’t hesitate. It wasn’t pure reaction. I understood the situation and realized I had a split second to respond. If I’d stopped to think it through more, she’d have taken Eric, and when she was done with him, she’d have killed him. I have no doubt of that.”

“Then you made the right choice.”

“Unless he could have gotten away. He probably could—”

Anders puts his hand over my mouth. “Nope. Don’t go there. There are always questions. We see every possibility. What if Eric could have escaped? What if Val had a sudden change of heart? What if a grizzly got her? Mountain lion? Or maybe the heavens would open and God would strike her down with lightning because she deserved to die, and Eric’s a good guy who doesn’t.”

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