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She gives a low woof, and then backs out, tugged aside by Dalton, who crouches.
“Who the hell builds a pit trap out here?” he says. “You could have been—Shit.”
“I found Penny.”
He curses, and then shines in his flashlight and says, “I was about to say someone could break a leg falling in. Penny must have run from the moose and fell into this trap.” He shifts the light beam up her body, stops at her obvious broken neck and curses. “She was buried?”
“Yep. Also, that hole you’re looking through is from me. Itwas covered when I got here. That’s how I fell in. Storm was sniffing, distressed about the body, I’m presuming. I made a wrong step and…” I motion around.
“So either she fell in and broke her neck and someone covered it up… or someone killed and hid her here. Any signs of other injuries?”
“I hadn’t gotten that far. I want to examine her before we move her, but I need a light.”
“Right.” He hunkers onto his heels, partly disappearing. “Your backpack is up here?”
“It was. I took it off to get out the scent markers for Storm. Before I found Penny, someone found me. Found my backpack at least.”
“Someonestoleyour backpack?”
“That depends. Is it sitting two feet to your right?”
He looks and lets out a string of curses.
“Did they know you were in—?” He waves off his own question. “Let me get down there, and we’ll talk while you work.”
“As much as I’d appreciate the help, I think someone better stay up there with Storm… or she might get snatched next.”
He snorts. “Like to see them try. But yeah, better not have us both in that hole if your thief does come back.”
He stretches out on his stomach and reaches the flashlight low enough that I can stand on my tiptoes and grab it.
“What else do you need?” he asks. “You got your phone for photos?”
I pause and then curse.
“It was in your backpack?” Dalton says.
My grumble is answer enough. I’m not used to having a cell phone anymore. They were prohibited in Rockton, where the owners had argued they’d be nothing but paperweights.
That was true once upon a time, but these days, even withoutservice, a cell phone is a Swiss Army knife of utility and recreation. The council just didn’t want residents using the limited electricity, which makes sense. We have more solar, though, so we’ll be allowing cell phones when we get enough sun, which means I’d brought mine with me. And it’s now in the hands of whoever stole my backpack.
Along with…
“Shit,” Dalton says. “The sat phone.”
That’s also new. We’d had emergency radios in Rockton, which didn’t work worth a damn. Here we’ll have satellite phones. We’d brought one… and I’d been carrying it in my backpack.
“Note to self,” I mutter. “Don’t be cheap. Invest in extra sat phones.”
Dalton only shrugs. With an undertaking like this, we do need to keep overages to a minimum. We have two sat phones—one in town and one for an “away team.”
That means, however, that we’re going to need to get Penny back to Haven’s Rock by ourselves.
“I could use any bags you have for evidence,” I say.
Dalton takes rope and a knife from his backpack and then passes it down to me.
“Take what you need and conduct your examination,” he says. “I’ll rig up a sled for Storm.”
