The Last Letter (Page 34)

“They’ve been looking for hours, and the missing hiker is a VIP up at one of the resorts, so we got called in to add some manpower.”

“Gotcha.” The circle parted as Gutierrez and I joined in. Havoc was given a wide berth as she sat at my command.

The guy in the center, who was obviously in charge by the bullhorn hooked at his belt, shot us a glare as a greeting.

“As I was saying for you latecomers, Mrs. Dupreveny went out with her hiking guide this morning with her two daughters, ages seven and twelve.”

Not a kid. Please don’t be a kid. I refused to be responsible for the death of another child.

“When she fell, we believe breaking her leg, she sent the guide back with her daughters to call for help. Apparently they were surprised at the lack of service up on the Highline, so we can all assume the guide isn’t a local.”

A snort of exasperation went through the group. I sighed in relief that it was an adult out there alone.

“Guide returned at noon and called the county. We deployed search and rescue shortly thereafter with no luck. Rain was definitely not our friend.”

I looked up at the sky. The clouds were still gray but no longer the water-heavy version known for the quick-tempered thunderstorms around here. We should be in the clear to work for a while.

“As you can tell, the rain has ceased, and we need to find her. Quickly. We’ve got about four hours left of good sunlight. According to the guide, he left her about an hour in and marked the trail with her bandana, which is pink. We found the bandana, and it’s still there, but there’s no Mrs. Dupreveny. Plan is to hike in as a group, then zone out search coordinates and get this woman back to her husband.”

A hand went up from one of the Telluride guys. Capshaw, if I remembered correctly. I really needed to spend more time with the other guys when I went in, not just training Havoc.

“Capshaw?”

At least I got that one right.

“Who is taking point on this?”

A mumble went through the group, and I saw it for what it was, two rival organizations working together, and hoped it wouldn’t get in the way. Egos usually blew an op. I scanned the group, seeing another dog and handler on the opposite side in a county uniform. A yellow Lab who was changing his position from sitting to standing every minute or so. Restless.

Not my business.

“County is taking point. Telluride is here as support.”

Another mumble.

“If you guys are done determining pecking order, can we get started?” I asked, impatience getting to me.

The guy’s eyes narrowed in my direction and then Havoc’s. “You’re the new guy, right? The soldier? And the dog?”

Heads swung in my direction. “That’s us. Now if we’re done wasting daylight?”

He made the be-my-guest gesture toward the trailhead, and we took off. I tightened my small pack on my back and zipped the lightweight fleece across my chest. It was already cool and only going to get colder.

“Damn, gotta step on toes on day one?” Gutierrez asked, walking next to me.

“No point talking when the mission is pretty clear.”

“Point taken.”

We handed out radio frequencies as a group and hiked along the trail, crossing a bridge and earning a view of Telluride. It really was spectacular here, with the mountains rising on both sides of us, reaching toward the sky.

Ahead about twenty yards, the other dog sprinted through the meadow that ran alongside of us. Havoc stayed right by my side, her footsteps and breathing steady.

“So I saw you downtown with Ella MacKenzie,” Gutierrez said, breaking the silence I’d been enjoying.

“Probably.” I liked Mark well enough while we were on duty and occasionally made an effort with him on the conversation front, but Ella wasn’t on my list of approved topics.

“Something going on there?” he asked in a locker-room-talk kind of way.

“Be careful,” I warned.

“Hey, I know Ella. She’s a good girl—woman. I used to be friends with her brother. He died. You know that, right? About six months ago.”

My heart stuttered in a beat that had nothing to do with the altitude. “Yeah, I know.”

“She’s got kids, too. Good kids.”

“Yep.” What was this guy getting at?

He sighed, curving the bill on his cap in a nervous tell. This guy would be easy pickings at a poker table.

“Look, I’m not trying to be nosy.”

“Sure you are. Question is: Why?”

He looked behind us, seeing what I already knew. There were about twenty feet between us and the nearest crew members. Enough distance to talk in private. “I’m just trying to look out for her.”

“Good to know.” There wasn’t a soul on the planet who cared more about Ella than I did, and while it was almost cute—his concern—it was absolutely unnecessary.

“I’m serious. She’s got a shit-ton going on, and if there was a short end of the stick to be had, Ella was given it. Between losing her parents and Jeff walking out—”

“You know Jeff?” My footsteps would have faltered if my body hadn’t been on autopilot, used to pushing on when my mind went elsewhere.

“Knew Jeff,” he corrected. “I hung out with his older brother, Blake.”

“One preppy name after another,” I muttered.

Gutierrez laughed. “That’s so true. They both are—preppy assholes, that is. Trust-fund babies who never had to struggle a day in their lives. Both had their fortunes handed to them, and now their jobs.”

A stab of pure hatred coursed through me like an acidic poison burning in my veins. Of course he had everything easy while Ella worked her ass off.

“So you know where he is?”

“Sure. He’s working for his daddy’s company in Denver. Engaged to the daughter of a politician, if his Facebook is true.”

I stored the information away, feeding the plan that had been forming since I’d promised Maisie that she wasn’t going to die.

“Anyway, you and Ella serious?” He looked at me sideways, and I glanced at his hand. Nice wide gold band. Good. I wasn’t in the mood to fight off some guy for Ella. Not when I couldn’t trust myself not to beat the shit out of him.

“We’re friends,” I said in that noncommittal way. “I’m just helping her out.”

He seemed to ponder that for a minute and then nodded. “Good. That’s good. She needs all the help she can get right now with her kids.”

“No,” I corrected, my eyes scanning the forest line just in case we found our hiker. “She doesn’t need help; she’s honestly got it handled all on her own. But I need to help her. I don’t want her to have to handle it solo. There’s a difference.”

Gutierrez nodded again, like a bobblehead, but sincere. Maybe I’d spent too much time around soldiers. Maybe civilians chatted about their feelings on hikes in the mountains. Maybe I was the odd one for being so closed off, not him for being so inquisitive.

“Sorry, man. It’s just…it’s a small town, and you’re new. And after losing Ryan, I know she’s hurting. I mean, they wouldn’t even tell her what happened.”

Of course they didn’t. Because when ops went wrong, when soldiers were knocked unconscious instead of killed, then hauled out by insurgents into the desert, stripped of their uniforms, bound, gagged, tortured, and shot in the back of their heads while wearing nothing but their boxers, the military tended to hide it from their families and call it classified.

No one wanted to think of that happening to their brother.

“I mean, they wouldn’t even let her see his body. That’s got to mess with her. For all she knows, he could still be alive somewhere, and the military is covering it up to turn him into Jason Bourne or something. It’s messed up.”

The muscles in my jaw flexed as I clenched my teeth to keep my mouth shut. This guy didn’t know anything, not what happened to Ryan, not that he was my best friend. He was just trying to watch out for Ella, to make sure I had a good, clear picture of what she’d been through. At least that’s what I kept telling myself as we approached the search location.

The path was lined with aspens, which cut our field of vision to a minimum, but there it was, tied to the stump—a pink bandana. We gathered in another circle as bullhorn guy took center stage.

It was time to go to work.

…

“That’s quite a dog you have there,” Gutierrez told me about an hour later, when our hiker had been airlifted out and we were headed back down the trail.

“She’s one of a kind,” I agreed.

He then let me walk the rest of the way in silence, for which I was grateful. It had taken me months to let Ryan in, and years to become his best friend. Ella was the only person I’d ever had an instant connection with, and I smiled when I realized Maisie and Colt were on that list now, too.

We made it down to the trail base, and I opened the truck door for Havoc to jump in. She settled in the passenger seat, happy and a little tired.

“You did great today,” Gutierrez said as he stripped off his own pack, loading it into the car parked next to mine.

“Thanks. It felt good to be useful.”

“Yeah, I get that.” He took off his hat and rubbed his head. “Look, about the stuff I said about Ella—”

“Don’t. It’s okay.” My grip tightened on my doorframe.

“Small town,” he said with a weak shrug.

It really was. Maybe not the village with the ski resorts, but the old town. Especially when the tourists weren’t around and it was mostly locals. They were all connected here, and I might not understand it, but I could do my best to respect it.

“Ryan hasn’t been dead six months.”

Gutierrez’s head snapped up.

“He’s been dead for five months and seven days, give or take a few hours. A few very long hours. I know, because he was my best friend. I served with him for the better part of a decade.”

“Oh man, I’m so sorry.” His whole posture slumped.

“Don’t be. Never be sorry for looking out for Ella. I told you only so you’d know that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her safe, to take care of her and the kids. Nothing. They’re the whole reason I’m here.”