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"Sure did," I say. "When I was five. He was a brown dog, just like the one on the show. He only existed in my mind, but he was the best imaginary pet ever."
Brent lets out a whoop of laughter, and I say to Dalton, "It was a kids' show. Mr. Dressup. There was a puppet named Casey--"
"--who had a dog named Finnegan." He offers a brief smile and a nod. "Got it."
"Well, that tells me what present to pick for you, then." Brent disappears into a dark corner of the room and hunkers down by an opening into what must be like a closet for him. He rattles around inside it and brings back a fist-sized woodcarving.
"Fox," he says. "I don't have a dog, but this is close."
"It's gorgeous," I say, and it is, so intricately carved that I can feel the fur under my fingers. "Did you do this?"
He nods with a gruff, "Lots of free time in the winters."
I thank him and ask if I can come back with Dalton sometime.
"Anytime," he says, and looks genuinely pleased.
We go to leave. I climb out first. When I'm nearly at the top, I hear Brent say, in a low voice to Dalton, "You seen Jacob?"
Dalton's reply comes quickly. "No. Why?"
"We were supposed to go hunting together three days ago. He never showed."
"What?"
"Nothing to worry about, Eric. It's not like he can call my cellphone if he has to cancel. I did see him the next day. Just caught a glimpse of him as I was coming down the mountain. I tried to hail him, but he didn't seem to hear."
"But you definitely saw him."
"I did. Sorry. Didn't mean to spook you."
I continue out through the cave entrance and their voices fade behind me. A few moments later, Dalton passes out the backpack.
All the way down the side of the hill, he says nothing. Then, at the bottom, he looks over to see me admiring the woodcarving, and I can feel that laser gaze drilling into me.
"You don't need to go back," he says.
"Is that your way of telling me I shouldn't?"
Frustration flashes in his eyes. "If I was telling you not to--"
"--then you'd tell me not to. Sorry. I'm still new at this, sheriff."
He nods. Then we take a few steps
before he says, "Brent has some problems. Beth says he might be mildly bipolar. You know what that is?"
"I'm a city cop. I need to know what that is."
"He's never been a threat, but he makes Will nervous. I'm not sure it's the mood swings or just the idea of someone living like that. Which is the long way of saying that if you aren't comfortable going back..."
"Then I'd never have offered. He's interesting. His situation is interesting, too, living out there. Which isn't to say that I'm looking at him like some kind of freak, either."
"All right, then."
After a few more steps, he glances over. I'm behind him and he looks out over his shoulder rather than directly back at me.
"You were kind to him." A moment's pause. "I appreciate that."
