Page 273 of Rangers Mountain Rescue

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My gaze shifts.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

To Aspen.

Then—

To grandpa.

Sitting quietly in the chair. Staring at the television even though the voice was down.

Petting Buddy like none of this is happening.

Like the world isn’t falling apart around him.

And then—

It clicks.

Fully.

Clear.

Sharp.

Final.

I turn back to the agent.

“Where did Tank go on his last mission?” I ask.

The agent frowns.

“What?”

“Answer the question.”

A beat.

Then—

“We lost his trail about sixty miles from here,” he says.

I nod once.

That tracks.

That fits.

“He came here,” I say.

“Maybe.”

“Tank hid what he had.”

“Possibly.”

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