Page 23 of Danger In The Backcountry
She handed over the keys and slammed the side door closed before climbing into the passenger seat, knocking take-out bags and empty fry holders to the floor. In seconds, the van lurched forward, and Lettie slammed her hands on the dashboard to keep from losing her balance. “What about the forensics team?”
“Here. Message Randy. Tell him and the law enforcement rangers to meet us then put the address into the GPS.” After handing off his phone, Rome twisted the steering wheel with one hand, shooting them across the desert landscape.
Cliffs, boulders and fine red sand blurred through the window as she did as he asked, sending the message as her heart rate climbed.
And hoped they got to her intern in time.
Chapter Twenty
There’d been a struggle.
Rome didn’t have to be a forensic scientist to understand Shawn had fought back. The small one-bedroom apartment hadn’t contained much, but what it did have was strewn across the old, musty carpet, shattered in pieces or torn into unidentifiable scraps. Blankets and sheets stripped from the bed as though the killer had surprised Shawn in his sleep and dragged him from the bedroom into the living room. A broken coffee table where two lines of tracks in the carpet ended. As though Shawn had been thrown down onto the faux wood. A sculpture lay in pieces by the front door, the first sign they’d had walked into a crime scene. A weapon of defense that had obviously failed.
He and Lettie had made it mere minutes before law enforcement rangers responded to the message they’d sent the park’s superintendent. She’d knocked on the door for a full five minutes and called her intern multiple times before Rome had used his good shoulder against the doorframe. The dead bolt had burst straight through the rotted wood.
Springdale Police had taken control of the scene, considering the apartment resided in their jurisdiction, but they’d given NPS—and Rome—leeway in assessing the scene themselves.
Shawn had missed work this morning and the past two days. No one in the lab had seen him since the day the latest hiker had been found. Friends and family hadn’t heard from him in close to a week. Neighbors couldn’t give police any information,as most worked two to three jobs just to be able to afford to live in a town built specifically for tourists right outside the park, and weren’t home to keep tabs on each other. And there hadn’t been any reports of a noise complaint to police. His vehicle, too, was missing from the parking lot according to Lettie. No one had heard from him since his visit to the hospital for Lettie. Shawn had simply disappeared without a trace.
Rome pressed his thumb into the pocket between Lettie’s shoulder and neck as she gave as many details about her intern as she could remember. Exhaustion added a sallowness to her face. It wasn’t just about finding Shawn. It was living in fear. It was nearly dying in those woods. It was the guilt that came with shouldering the deaths of potentially five men who’d gotten into her orbit. It was having Rome back in her life. All of it compounded in the slow shakes and nods she gave. This case was wearing on her. From the moment she’d set eyes on the body of the latest victim, she’d been drawn into a never-ending nightmare Rome wished he could fight for her.
“Do you know if Mr. Shawn was seeing anyone?” The officer had made note of her answers for the past thirty minutes, but now they were just talking in circles. Checking, double-checking, triple-checking her responses. Wearing Lettie down as though she had anything to do with a man going missing. “Girlfriend. Wife?”
“Not that I know of.” Another shake of her head, this one slower than the last. It’d been days since she’d had a good meal and uninterrupted sleep. While Rome was used to living in extreme conditions and had trained himself to power through, this was all new to her. Not to mention the mental strain she’d been under. “But we never really talked about our personal lives while at work, but I think he mentioned a couple dates he’s been on. Maybe a month or two ago.”
“And the two of you?” The officer motioned toward her with the end of his pen, dark eyes studying Lettie from head to toe in appreciation that had Rome’s defenses raging. “You said he was your intern. You two spent a lot of time together in the lab, right? Late nights, early mornings. Things ever progress between you?”
“What? No. Never.” Her voice hitched on the last word. “I was Shawn’s boss. Anything between us would’ve been extremely inappropriate.”
“Attraction doesn’t care about impropriety, and rules don’t stop a lot of people from jumping into an office affair.” The officer made another note, one Rome couldn’t distinguish in the cop’s sloppy handwriting. “Even if the participants are married.” Turning to Rome, the officer poised a cheap blue pen above the pad. “So why don’t you give me an outline of your whereabouts for the past two days.”
Heat exploded into Rome’s face, and he took a step forward, setting Lettie partially behind him. “My whereabouts? What for?”
The man’s shoulders stretched out, full and puffed up as one of those dancing birds on the Discovery Channel trying to attract a mate. Pretenses vanished as the officer lowered his notepad and pen. “Just seems a bit odd men keep showing up dead after coming into contact with a married woman, don’t you think? We’ve got four victims, Mr. Foster. All proven to be in contact with your wife, hunted down and slaughtered. And here she’s telling me there’s nothing going on between her and her missing intern, and yet, he’s not here. See the pattern?”
Hell. He knew how this looked. How despite their separation, he and Lettie were still legally married. How she’d gone on a number of dates with men who’d been murdered.
The officer took an equally intimidating step forward, those dark eyes all the more intense as he focused on Rome. “You’re a freelancer for the National Park Service, correct, Mr. Foster?Superintendent Potter called you in to hunt a rogue bear in the park who was initially suspected of killing these victims?”
Rome couldn’t help but swallow the knot in his throat. Hot. He was suddenly too hot despite his T-shirt and jeans and the wintery temperatures coming through the open front door of the apartment. “Seems you already know the answer to that.”
“Yeah. I do.” The officer nodded, his gaze dipping to Lettie for just a moment, to remind Rome what was at risk if this conversation went south. “I also know you have a sealed juvenile record.”
Blood drained from Rome’s face, but he didn’t let himself react. Didn’t allow himself to look at Lettie. He’d trusted her with his past—the abandonment of his parents, the death of his uncle, details about those two years in which the state had no idea he’d been living on his own—but there were some things he couldn’t reveal. Things that would’ve changed the way she looked at him and confirmed everything her parents had accused him of being. Of never being good enough for her. And he couldn’t risk her learning about it now. Not while a killer was out there, determined to have her for himself. Because no matter his lie of omission, Rome was the best person to protect her. Who would do whatever it took—even sacrificing his own life—to keep her safe. The police and the law enforcement rangers couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t.
“Watch it.” The words left Rome’s mouth as more of a growl rather than anything close to human.
“Now, I don’t know what kind of trouble you got yourself into, but a sealed record like yours usually tells a story of violence.” Hiking his belt higher on his hips, the Springdale PD officer flashed a closed-lipped smile. He’d gotten the reaction he’d wanted from Rome. “I can’t access it unless you’re suspected of another crime or with a warrant from a judge, but let’s be honest with each other, Mr. Foster. It wouldn’t be much of a stretchto consider that a married man in your position and with your skills might’ve worked off some jealousy by going after the men his wife has been seeing?”
“You can’t be serious.” Lettie’s gasp cut through the too-loud pounding of blood behind his ears. She shot to her feet, angling herself in front of him—protecting him—and his heart squeezed in his chest. “You can’t possibly think Rome had anything to do with this.”
The officer cocked a brow in her direction. “It’s my job to consider all possibilities, Dr. Larson. Even the ones you might not like.”
“He saved me from being abducted.” Her voice hardened into something sharp and ice-cold as she took a step of her own, mere inches separating her from the officer’s chest. Lettie somehow managed to look down on the officer standing in front of her despite being half a foot shorter than him, and Rome had never felt prouder of her in his life. “He fought the killer and was shot with a crossbow in the process.”
“According to your statements, in which no one else can corroborate.” The officer’s attention ping-ponged between her and Rome. “Springdale PD pulled cell phone data from the towers based off your account of what happened last night. It showed only two cell phone signals in those woods the night you claimed you were attacked. Yours and Mr. Foster’s.”
Rome had only heard whispers of the system capable of identifying every cell phone in a certain radius, exceptionally valuable during a murder investigation in which police could pinpoint who was in the area at any given time around a crime. But for the killer not to show up at all? The son of a bitch had ensured he couldn’t be caught. The masked man had failed to kill him last night. Was pointing the finger at Rome for these murders some kind of backup plan?
