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As for the lead we’re pursuing, that’s a half-truth. Maybe a quarter-truth. The half-truth is that I want to get back into the woods looking for Penny. My gut says that I have a reasonable idea what happened to her, and it means I’m unlikely to find her alive.
The night Bruno disappeared, he went into the forest to meet someone. Penny also went in.
Is it possible she was the person Bruno was meeting, not for romance but for whatever scheme he was working on? Yes, but it seems Penny was following Yolanda, presumably suspecting she was up to something. Is Yolanda the person Bruno met? That’s the obvious answer, but even if it’s not the right one, then I think Penny still stumbled on Bruno and his meeting. She overheard the discussion. She saw the other person push Brunooff the cliff. The would-be murderer realized Penny had seen, and killed her for it.
To find Penny—presumably her body—I need to find where Bruno went over the cliff. There is someone who knows the answer to that question: whoever brought him back to Haven’s Rock. The person with the tame wolf.
I also need to get away. My brain is whirring with too many complications and not enough data. One dead engineer. One missing architect. Someone in town pushed the engineer off the cliff, and both were involved in a moneymaking scheme that our architect may have overheard them discussing. Then there’s the dead woman. She must be connected. I just don’t know how.
I only have one suspect for Bruno’s partner: Yolanda. Yet I lack a shred of evidence connecting her to this, beyond the fact that she had also been in the forest that night, which is purely circumstantial.
As we walk, I talk to Dalton, which is mostly just rehashing what I know, in hopes that he’ll see a connection I’ve missed or that, in vocalizing it, I’ll make one. Neither happens. I need more, and right now the only way to get it is to pursue this lead while hoping for an “aha!” moment.
We find the spot where Bruno was left and set Storm on the trail of the wolf. Dalton remembers the direction the beast left, and after walking around there, Storm gets the idea that we want to track the wolf. It’s an easy trail. The wolf was just getting from point A to point B, with point B being the person waiting in the forest. From there, the trail is equally easy to follow. At least, it is for Storm.
“Good thing we’ve got her,” he says. “I’m no help at all.”
“The person covered their tracks?”
“No, they picked a path where they don’t need to cover it.” He motions around us. “Open land.” A wave down. “Rockyground. I’m sure it’s possible to find signs of passage, but they were making sure that wouldn’t be easy.”
The open and rocky ground, however, does make it easy for Storm. But it’s not a straightforward path—the person had to actively select the right landscape for avoiding tracking, which meant a wending path rather than a straightaway—and when I finally see where we’re going, a pang of disappointment shoots through me. It’s the opposite direction from the mining camp. That means it’s also in the opposite direction from where Penny’s trail led and where we found the dead woman. We walk for about ninety minutes, taking us at least five kilometers from Haven’s Rock.
“Did they drag Bruno all this way?” I say. “That’s some serious effort.”
Dalton shakes his head. “I haven’t seen signs of dragging in a while. I suspect they came from someplace closer and then headed back home this way.”
“Which means we should have found the entry trail instead.”
“That’s the backup. You’re going to want to talk to this person, and the wolf’s scent will fade faster than the signs of dragging.”
“Good point.”
“I’ve got your back.”
I smile. “I know.”
He shields his eyes against the sun. “Looks like we’re coming into dense forest.”
I see what he means. We’re on a rocky expanse now, but Storm is heading straight for the forest. Once the trail enters that, Dalton’s able to pick up signs that prove we’re going the right way. Most of them come from the wolf—a paw print in soft ground, a few hairs caught on a bush. The human part of the duo is being extremely careful, even back here, so deep in the forest.
Someone doesn’t want to be followed.
Someone doesn’t want to be found.
We’re approaching the foothills of a mountain, making our way through that thick forest, when Dalton’s hand flies up. I stop. He lifts his head and inhales, just as Storm does the same. Then even I catch the scent, thick and musky, coming from upwind, toward the mountain.
“Bear,” I say.
“Hmm.”
If even I can smell it, that suggests a den, probably in the mountainside and not far away.
“Well,” I murmur. “Now we know why our target carries bear bells.”
“I’d say we should make noise, but I also have a feeling we’re reaching the end of our journey.”
“And don’t want whoever’s out there to hear us coming.”
