“Are you okay?” Rob yelled.

“Great!” Adam yelled with more force. Fucking fantastic. Why do you ask?

He looked up. The ravine was not nearly as deep as it had felt like when he’d fallen down it. Maybe twelve feet. At most. Rob was kneeling at the edge, gazing down at him, his eyes wide in his alarmed face.

“Don’t try to move. I’m coming down.”

Someone ought to tell Rob how great he looked in that vaguely western style sheriff’s deputy hat. Then again, he probably knew.

“No. I’m okay. Stay there,” Adam called. In fact, he felt okay enough to be mostly incensed with the whole situation. What the hell was it that people loved so much about the great outdoors? It was just one fatal accident after another waiting to happen.

Other heads were popping up alongside Rob as the rest of their search team arrived. He began to receive unsolicited advice on how to climb, out even as Rob cautioned everyone to stay clear of the edge.

Adam sat up, and the brush and snow that he had mistaken for the floor of the ravine gave way. He dropped another foot, landing on his tailbone in a pile of rocks and rubble.

That hurt and he swore loudly.

“Adam?”

“Still here,” Adam yelled.

And he wasn’t the only one.

He sucked in a sharp breath. Not rocks and rubble. Or not only rocks and rubble. He had landed on the rotting remnants of an old backpack.

“Haskell, you better get down here,” he called. He got to his knees and crawled forward.

The outcrop of boulders and tree roots and brush made a nice dry, sheltered recess, and in that recess was another pile of rags. Rags and scattered bones. A skeleton.

Heart thumping, he sat back on his heels. Hollow, empty eye sockets met his own.

Rocks and snow rained down, followed by Rob who half jumped, half slid down to join him.

“Where the hell—?”

“Right here,” Adam said.

Rob shoved aside the brush and dropped down beside Adam. He put his hand on Adam’s shoulder. “I told you not to try to move.”

Rob was a toucher. A hands-on kind of guy. But Adam realized he didn’t mind Rob touching him. In fact, that brief, warm clasp was kind of comforting. He said briskly, “What was the name of the hiker who disappeared back in 1998? The college kid with the hip replacement?”

“Something Jordan. No. Jordan Gaura.”

Adam indicated an article that looked like a bent metal and plastic mushroom amidst the strewn stones and bones. “I think we just found him.”

Rob followed Adam’s line of sight to the remains beneath the boulder overhang.

“God damn it,” he said. He sounded more weary than shocked. But then there were only so many possible outcomes for hikers missing for very long in these woods. He added after a minute, “The good news is, it’s not Tiffany.”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “The bad news is you need a crime scene team up here. Including a forensic anthropologist.”

Rob stared at him.

Adam said, “Come on, Rob. One body maybe. Two bodies? Your forest is turning into a bone orchard.”

Rob frowned. “You can’t think this has anything to do with Dove Koletar.”

“That’s exactly what I think.”

“What’s happening down there?” Silver hair and fringe jacket. Bill’s father looked down at them, frowning. “Anybody hurt?”

“Hang on, Buck. We’ve got a situation here,” Rob called. To Adam, he said, “Let’s not jump to any conclusions. This could have been an accident.”

“Rob.”

“We have no idea how this kid died. He could have fallen and cracked his skull. At that time of year he wouldn’t have had snow to cushion his tumble.”

“Maybe. His skull looks okay from here,” Adam said. “I’m no expert. And neither are you. Which is why you want to get one up here. ASAP.” He held Rob’s troubled gaze with his own.

After a moment, Rob nodded. “Agreed.” He rose.

Adam felt for him. He really did. For all his lackadaisical attitude, Rob cared about the people he was entrusted with serving and protecting. And though this crime—if it was a crime—had not happened on Rob’s watch, he would take this to heart. He said, “And you’ve got to protect this site.”

Rob nodded wearily.

Adam got to his feet, wincing, and Rob said, “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. I landed on my pride.”

Rob smiled faintly. “I’ve gotta say, I’ve never seen anyone look so dignified in midair.”

Adam snorted and hastily wiped his nose. Rob laughed.

That was the only humor in the situation, and neither of them was smiling as they scrambled back to the top of the ravine. It wasn’t a difficult climb, but Adam was starting to think longingly of a long, hot bath and a comfortable mattress—neither of which was waiting for him at the campground cabin.

Rob walked a way down the hillside to radio for reinforcements.

“You were lucky,” Bill said. “What did you find down there?” He leaned over the edge, and his father grabbed his jacket.

“What the hell are you doing? Did you not just see what happened here?”

Bill freed himself, throwing his father a resentful look. He looked at Adam. “Is it Tiffany?”

“No.”

Everyone’s relief seemed genuine. Of course some people were better actors than others. Adam had plenty of experience with that.

“You and Tiffany were friends?” Adam asked. He kept his expression and tone sympathetic. Even so Bill looked vaguely alarmed.

“I mean, I know her,” he said. “I used to tutor her.”

“Can you think of anyone she’d run to if she was in trouble?”

“I don’t know her that well.”

Bill’s haste to distance himself from Tiffany was understandable in the circumstances. His defensive posture and inability to hold Adam’s gaze might indicate deception, or might indicate extreme discomfort at being questioned by the FBI. And in any case, this wasn’t the time or place to try and interview him.

“Are we still headed up toward the peak?” One of the other searchers asked.

“I don’t know,” Adam answered.

“The climb is a lot harder from here on out. I don’t believe that girl could have made it this far.”

“She could have,” said the only woman on their search team. “If she had to.”

“Why would she have to?” Buck Constantine said.

Nobody had an answer for that. In fact, no one said much of anything at all. Mostly they were watching Rob. He had his back toward them, so there wasn’t much to see. A couple of searchers found resting places on fallen timber. Canteens were handed back and forth.

After a minute or two, Rob hiked back up to where they waited.

“We’re going to start back down,” he announced. “What I was about to tell you before Agent Darling decided to pursue his own line of inquiry is that one of the teams searching to the south found what appears to be Tiffany’s cell phone.”

This information sent a ripple through the circle of remaining searchers.

“I’ve been saying that from the first,” the older Constantine said. “What are we doing up here when sure as hell he’d have dragged her down to the highway? Nobody would stick around waiting to get caught.”

“If we knew exactly where to search, we wouldn’t need all of you,” Rob said crisply. “Let’s get moving. We need everyone focused on that quadrant.” He met Adam’s questioning gaze and nodded affirmative.

Rob stayed behind to mark the ravine and log its coordinates, while Adam and the rest of their party started back down. They were all moving a lot more quickly now that they were sure—rightly or wrongly—that Tiffany had never been up there. The problem with a search like this was both predator and prey were trying to outthink possible pursuit, which very often meant doing the last thing anyone would expect. Stupid things. Dangerous things.

When Rob caught up to Adam, he said, “We should have a crime scene team up here within a couple of hours.

“Good.”

“Constantine is right. The most likely scenario is she was dragged to the highway.”