Page 17 of Better Watch Out

Seconds later I push to my feet as well, but I don’t follow him. Instead, I make my way around the side of the lean-to, glancing down the trail. Boone had been right. Two people, maybe a man and a woman, are hiking our way, their jackets slick and official looking. It’s no wonder Boone clocked them as law enforcement; they definitely give off the vibe.

But I don’t stop and stare. Instead, I keep walking until I’m on the side of the lean-to that faces the woods, where I’d heardBoone from. Sure enough he’s there, kneeling in the snow and roughhousing with Sitka.

“You get her wound up, you get to deal with her later,” I remark flatly, watching as she darts at his hands with her mouth open in what I like to call ‘the piranha.’ “And she bites hard when she plays.”

“I don’t mind.” Boone grins up at me, giving her one last playful shove before pushing to his feet. “I never thought you’d get a dog I actuallylike.Cute as hell, too, snow bunny.”

I kick snow at him half-heartedly, gloved hands jammed into my pockets. “Do you know what that term means according to the internet?” I demand at last. “Because it’s got a couple meanings, and I don’t fit either of them.”

Boone walks closer to me, and my body tenses in anticipation. But he only chuckles and leans forward to press his forehead against mine. “I know what it means, Conor. But I also know what it means tome, and that’s what matters here.” It’s almost cute when he nuzzles his nose against mine, and it catches me off guard.

It’s so…affectionate.

But if I’m honest with myself, Boone was always the more affectionate one. With Fletcher and, on occasion, with me. It just hadn’t happened very often, especially in the year leading up to my grand escape. “That bruise looks great,” I tell him flatly, eyes on his. “Remind me how you got it again?”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs before standing up straight. “Don’t get me going, Con,” he warns. “We have to act like we aren’t a bunch of degenerates while the cops are here. And actually…” He leans around me, surveying them as their footsteps finally become audible in the snow. “Oh, hello. These two are well above local law enforcement. Wonder what they’re doing out here almost a year later.” I go to move, to at least look at them now that they’re close, but Boone suddenly grabsmy chin, yanking my face around so I’m forced to meet his eyes. “I know he warned you, but I’m just asking. Not telling or threatening.”

Boone gives me that smile. The one that makes him look like a sweet puppy who’s just aiming to please. It’s rare, and my heart twists despite myself. It’s so hard to only remember the bad shit when they’re reminding me of the few good things about them. “Don’t turn this into something it doesn’t need to be. They don’t know anything about what happened here. Let’s keep it that way.” He lets go of me after a few seconds of us just staring at each other.

I’m not willing to give him any promises.

Even though I think all three of us know what I’m going to do. My feet sink into the snow, legs working overtime as I wander around the overlook with Sitka beside me. She sees the cops and gives a yip of welcome, yet again proving how poor she is at being a judge of character.

Murderers, cops, what’s next? The ghost of Dahmer?

Before I can call her back, worried about the cops’ reaction, the man leans down, reaching his hands out for her to sniff. She does so gratefully, her tail wagging hard enough to propel even theTitanicthrough the ocean at mach speed. I pause, shifting my feet in the snow to watch, until the cops approach me, trying to ignore the way my heart flips around in my chest.

“She yours?” the man asks, eyes obscured behind a pair of aviators.

“Yeah,” I reply. “Her name is Sitka. She’s a uh, menace to society,” I admit with a small, wry grin.

“She’s gorgeous. We surprisingly don’t see too many huskies up here, even though I’m sure enough of them would love it.” He holds out his hand and I take it, his glove warm in mine. “Detective Ramirez. This is my partner, Detective Harding.” The woman nods, her look severe and all business. She’s alsowearing sunglasses to avoid the glare from the snow, and her mouth is set in a flat line.

Well, I guess she’s the bad cop in their routine, going by first impressions.

“Did something happen?” I ask, seeing Boone approach from the corner of my eye, and I’m surprised that Fletcher isn’t hovering, instead leaning on the rail that separates the overlook from empty air. “It’s been a few years since I’ve been in town, but we’re allowed up here, right?” I ask, pretending I’m worried about breaking any laws myself, no matter how small.

I wonder if they’d try to charge me for being an accomplice, if they knew.

I wonder if they’d believe me if I told them how unlikely it would be for me to help them do anything. They may be my stepbrothers. We may have shared a house, a family, a school, and a dinner table for years, but I barely consider them as part of my life. Especially when I’m not stuck with them on a mountain whose roads are all closed and my frustration at my dad keeping me nice and toasty through the holidays.

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Detective Harding asks, her face pointed toward me, though I can’t see her eyes. She looks so disapproving. Displeased, sort of, and I swear she wrinkles her nose like she smells something distasteful.

LikeI’mwhat’s distasteful.

“I don’t know,” I reply, shrugging. “I mean, I guess I never saw many law enforcement up here, especially when it seems like it’s not their day off.” I stop myself before I can ramble, not wanting to give up anything that’s unnecessary. With my luck, I’ll slip up and give them a reason to suspect me.

“What’s your name?” Detective Ramirez asks, drawing my attention back to him. “You aren’t in trouble, promise. There’s no reason for you not to be up here, except that it’s cold as hellin this weather.” He shudders dramatically in his jacket, smiling like he’s trying to share the joke with me to put me at ease.

I see it for what it is. This is their routine to make me more comfortable with one of them than the other. I give them both a hapless grin. “I’m used to it. Spent all my winters and a lot of my summers up here as a kid. I really like the snow. And I’m Conor Maxwell. I’m just here until the roads open up.”

“You act like you have some reason for wanting to get out of here fast,” Harding says quickly, catching onto my words. “Running from something, Conor?”

Shaking my head, I trade a casual, surprised look with Boone. “I don’t have anything to run from,” I reply blithely, trying not to lay it on too thick.

“You’re actually the reason we’re up here.” Ramirez’s words surprise me and I glance at him, not having to feign the surprise in my expression.

“Me?” I repeat. “I don’t live around here anymore.” Trying not to sound defensive, I shift in the snow, glancing over to make sure Sitka isn’t trying to befriend a bear clan or anything. To my relief she’s hanging out with Fletcher, his hand on her head as they watch the lake together.

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