Page 256 of Rangers Mountain Rescue

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87

Aspen

Buddy won’t stop growling.

Low.

Constant.

Deep in his chest like he knows something the rest of us don’t.

I glance down at him where he stands beside grandpa’s chair, body stiff, ears alert, eyes locked on the strangers across the room.

The CIA.

Even thinking it feels wrong.

“Easy, boy,” I murmur, resting a hand on his head.

He doesn’t relax.

Not even a little.

And honestly?

Neither do I.

Outside, the town is awake now.

Not out in the open.

Not brave enough for that.

But watching.

Curtains shift.

Lights flick on.

Silhouettes move behind windows. Deputies drive by slowly, trying to see who is here.

Everyone knows something’s happening.

No one wants to be part of it.

I don’t blame them.

Not anymore.

A sharp voice cuts through the tension.

“Well, this just looks like a whole lot of nonsense.”

I blink.

Turn.

And there they are.

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