“You didn’t hear or see any vehicles in the last few days?”
“Nah. Been quiet up here. Usually there’s a few groups in the area, but not this week.”
A faint odor of weed hung around the young man. He was alert at the moment, but the marijuana could have numbed him to any activity in the woods overnight.
Evan wanted to know how long the man had been dead, but all the medical examiners were busy at other scenes, and he didn’t have an estimate as to how soon one could arrive. A county forensics tech had arrived before Evan and was currently documenting the scene in the tent. A forest ranger had been the first on the scene and had cordoned off a generous area to search. Two county deputies were currently doing a slow walk and scan through the area, looking for any evidence.
“Okay, Jason. You sticking around up here for a few days?” Evan asked.
The young man scrunched up his face. “Fuck no. It feels as creepy as hell here now, and if someone is shooting people in the head, I’d be dumb to stay.” His gaze darted around the woods, as if he expected the shooter to appear. “Don’t know how you’re going to find the guy who did it. It’s a big forest.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Evan said noncommittally. “I’ve got your contact info. You’ll probably hear from me again.”
And I have your driver’s license, license plate, and VIN.
If Jason tried to disappear, Evan could track him down. His gut told him the young man wasn’t involved, but he wouldn’t make any assumptions.
“Good luck, man. Hope you catch him.”
“Hey, Detective Bolton?” The forensics tech had stuck her head out of the tent. “Can you come here for a minute?”
Evan nodded at Jason, ducked under the crime scene tape, and headed to the tent, watching where he stepped. “What is it?”
“A cell phone. Was tucked in one of his boots. Still haven’t found any of his ID, but maybe this will help.” She handed Evan a phone in a baggie.
He touched the screen through the plastic, and the phone lit up. Its lock screen was an image of a half dozen people posing outdoors near a creek. A cheerful group. Their arms around one another.
The phone was too old to unlock with facial recognition or a fingerprint—features Evan had used a few times when the body was nearby. This phone needed a code.
“Dammit,” he muttered. He wanted to identify the body quickly.
“Yeah,” said the tech. “Sorry about that. I haven’t found anything else to help us figure out his identity. Might have to wait on fingerprints or for someone to come looking for him.”
Evan studied the photo on the lock screen, easily picking out the victim in the center of the happy group. He was tall and appeared to be in his fifties, looking fit and healthy, with a graying beard.
It would be a good photo to release to the public if Evan hit a dead end with identification. Clearly the man had friends, and the background appeared distinctly Pacific Northwest. Evan squinted at the other faces and zeroed in on one of the women. She was peeking over the shoulder of one of the other men in the group. She wore a baseball cap, but her smile and eyes were quite clear.
“I’ll be damned,” he said. It was Rowan Wolff.
4
“Find it,” ordered Rowan.
Thor turned away from the stuffed animal and shot across the front yard. Rowan jogged after him, her gaze locked on the black dog, observing his tail and head movements. At the corner of the house, he paused and looked back at her, a black void against the bricks of their home, but the language in his shiny eyes was clear.
hurry up
“I’m coming,” she muttered. Thor liked her in sight. It was rare for him to vanish for very long. He’d always reappear, his ears twitching, eager to get back to the search but also wanting her nearby. Rowan tried to stay close because she didn’t want the lack of her presence to distract him. He had a job, and it required 100 percent of his focus. But he didn’t like leaving her behind.
He knows I can’t move as fast.
When she reached him, Thor sped around the corner of the house, shot across the backyard, and started a wide sweep of the field behind her home, trotting back and forth, his mouth slightly open, his tongue visible. Thor abruptly stopped, lifted his nose a long moment, and froze. Then he made a beeline for the little playhouse under the firs.
Rowan smiled as Thor circled the plastic building, his wagging tail a blur. He stopped at the little door and shoved his nose into the crack between the door and the wall. And then he sat. He looked back at Rowan and made a soft roo roo roo sound. She’d taught him not to bark when he found his quarry, but she couldn’t train away his discovery chatter.