Page 180 of Wild Embers
Santiago and Levi join us, flanking me on either side. Their presence brings an added sense of safety.
“Start from the beginning.”
I do.
I tell them about Javier asking me to walk Shadow. About the trail. About Shadow stopping and Bear growling. How the snapping of twigs and branches turned out to be a deer. The cigarette butts. The footprints. The feeling that someone had been there the entire time, watching me.
Throughout my story, no one interrupts me.
The only sounds are hammers striking lumber at the new barn and the distant whinny of a horse.
Walker rubs a hand over his mouth. Levi’s jaw is so tight I’m surprised he doesn’t crack a tooth. Santiago stares toward the tree line where I’d just come from, his expression unreadable.
Walker crouches down and picks up the rest of the butts, pulling an evidence bag from his coat and placing the evidence inside.
He must always carry those around.
“Nobody touches the trail,” Walker commands. “And nobody leaves until they’ve been questioned, including the ranch hands and the construction crew.”
“Walk—” Santiago starts.
“I’m not asking,” Walker snaps.
My phone buzzes in my pants pocket. Tapping on the text, a prickling sensation shoots up my spine. My pulse roars in my throat.
Wordlessly, I hand my phone over to Walker. His eyes narrow, not understanding why I’m giving him my cell. When he reads the message on the screen, a livid spasm crosses his face.
“Fuck.”
Unknown: Nice day for a walk.
CHAPTER 44
BLAKE
The week after my walk with Shadow settles into an unexpected routine.
Every morning, hammers echo across Falling Sky while the new barn slowly replaces the one Manny burned to the ground. Every evening, the four of us collapse around Santiago’s kitchen table for dinner before arguing over whose turn it is to wash dishes.
The investigation also never really stops.
Walker comes home with another stack of files almost every night. Levi disappears to compare timelines or review autopsy reports. Santiago rides fence lines with the wranglers during the day and somehow still finds time to help Walker chase leads after dark.
The guys haven’t officially taken me off the case, but every time I try to help, they steer my attention in a different direction.
Then there are the cameras.
After someone followed me down the south trail, Walker refused to leave anything to chance. Trail cameras now watch every road into Falling Sky, the creek crossing, the tree line, and nearly every game trail leading onto the property.
According to Walker, no one is setting foot on the ranch again without us knowing.
I tell myself they make me feel safer, but really, they remind me that someone is still out there.
The smell of fresh-cut pine greets me before I even step inside the barn’s skeleton. Sawdust floats through shafts of Sunday afternoon light filtering between the rafters. The big sliding doors are wide open, allowing a cool winter breeze to roll through.
A week ago, this place still smelled like smoke. Today it smells like lumber.
Apparently, healing has a scent.
