I groan and thump my head back against the seat. Dalton doesn’t get the reference, and just ignores us, as usual.
When we near town, Storm and I jump out. I fix the dangling hand before Storm and I head into Haven’s Rock. The guys will skirt around the edge so no one comes out for a look. Even without that hand, they’re going to wonder what we have wrapped up, and I’d really rather no one runs over to lift the tarp, hoping for venison.
Storm and I head straight to the clinic. A few people see us and wave. I wave back and keep moving… until I spot Max and Gunnar, walking, deep in conversation. Max is eleven and Gunnar is twenty-nine, but we’ve long established that there is nothing unhealthy in the friendship. Max lost his dad before coming to Haven’s Rock, and Gunnar lost his childhood in a family tragedy when he was about Max’s age. They’re good for each other.
I call them both over. “Max, I need to steal Gunnar. Would you mind taking Storm? She’s had a bit of a scare, and I think she’d just like to hang out for a bit.”
“Sure. I’ll play a scenting game with her. She likes that.” He looks at me. “What kind of scare?”
I make a face. “We had to go faster in the ATV than she likes.”
I don’t mention the bear. Max had an experience last year, where he’d been kidnapped by someone wearing a bearskin, and while he knows that wasn’t a real bear, when it comes to trauma, it’s the experience that counts. He’d initially thought it was a bear, so he’ll always link that trauma to bears, and it’ll make him anxious if I suggest there is a grizzly around. He takes Storm, and I lead Gunnar to the clinic. I head around to the back and rap on the door. April didn’t have office hours today, so I expect I’ll need to go hunting for her, but I’ll start here.
The door cracks open two seconds after I knock, and April peers out.
“I am with a patient,” she says. “Rory is safely upstairs with Kenny.”
Right. Anders mentioned that Yolanda might need to swap Rory off to someone, so she could take her patrol shift. April must think I’m here to collect my daughter.
“Actually, I need the clinic,” I say. “We have a body.”
She opens the door another inch, but her expression doesn’t change. She just keeps looking at me, waiting.
“We have a body,” I say. “It’ll require an autopsy.”
“I presume this is a joke, and while I would find it amusing at any other time, I’m a bit busy, Casey. If you need Rory right now, I’ll ask my patient to move so you can come through and retain their privacy. However, I would prefer you to return later. You have been gone half the day. Another twenty minutes won’t matter.”
I try not to bristle at that. It sounds like criticism—I’ve dumped my kid on babysitters for half the day. It’s not. It’s just a statement of fact, told in my sister’s usual way.
I lower my voice. “We really do have a body, April. Remember I mentioned that hiker from yesterday?”
“Oh, yes, the one you attempted to treat. You are not a doctor and—”
“He didn’t die of a sprained ankle,” I say. “Now, if you can please finish up your appointment and let me know when it’s safe to bring the body in the back here.”
“You aren’t joking. About the body.”
“No, and if you give me shit for finding another corpse, I’m going to get very testy. We’ve had a hell of a morning, and I want to bring the body in and then see my daughter.”
Her voice lowers. “I never give you ‘shit,’ Casey. I tease you.”
“Yes, well, it can sound like giving me shit, and I’ve had a very long daybecausewe found a body that I really would have been happier not finding.”
“Of course. Let me wrap up here.”
CHAPTER NINE
I call Anders on the sat phone and tell him to bring the body in about ten minutes. When I finish, I sigh and slump onto April’s back porch.
“Did I hear that right?” a voice says. “You found a body?”
I look up. I’d forgotten Gunnar. He’s leaning against a tree, patiently waiting to discover what part he’ll play in this. There are many words to describe Gunnar, but the best is “unexpected.” He’s endless contradictions. The loudest guy in the room… or the one you won’t even notice is there. The guy who hangs out in an unfinished storage-room loft, his “roost” for watching the town. And if that door is open, women are welcome to come up and enjoy his hospitality. If it’s shut, though, he wants to be by himself—absolutely by himself, sometimes all night, maybe even showing up late for work the next day. He’ll also be the hardest worker when hedoesshow up, happy to do any task he’s given.
The answer is probably that he needs a whole lotta therapy to deal with his childhood trauma—watching his father kill his mother and narrowly escaping with his own life. He’shad counseling, and it’s gotten him this far, but Haven’s Rock has multiple options, too. We need to, with the isolation and the fact that probably half our residents are here post-trauma. For therapists, we have clinical psychologist Isabel and psychiatrist Mathias. While even Mathias has grudgingly agreed he’d take on Gunnar, Gunnar seems happy with the casual services—via friendship—with our third option, Kendra, a social worker.
“Too loud?” Gunnar says, when I take a moment to answer his question.
I shake my head. “We’re fine. Just…” I walk into the woods behind the clinic, and he follows. “Yes, it’s a body. A hiker. Seems to have been death by misadventure, but I want to be sure.”
