Page 34 of Running to the Mountain Man

The sheriff and Deputy Mark walk in and close the door behind them.

Audrey pulls a sheet of paper from her briefcase and looks at the sheriff.

“What do you have there, Aud?”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s the medical examiner’s report. The dead guy was shot an estimated five months ago, and the body froze shortly thereafter. The girl is not your shooter. You gotta let her go.”

“That’s not possible. You’re telling me this woman, who was in those same woods with a gun, firing at people in the same spot Trace was killed, is not a suspect?” Mark says.

Audrey cocks her head. “How’d you know the spot, Mark?”

“What?”

“How’d you know the spot where that man was shot and killed?”

Mark stammers, then babbles something about how it’s evident that Trace’s body washed down from high on the mountain. Or he heard a theory like that.

Audrey’s eyes cut to her brother, the sheriff. “The answer is shell casings, Einstein. They found shell casings from a rifle that was never reported stolen from the compound’s gun locker. And yet,when Goldie here ran away, the gun she stole from the locker was reported missing the same day by someone named Nevyn. You know that guy? That was just yesterday. Now, why wouldn’t they report something stolen that had way more firepower?”

She taps the pen to her chin.

I might love this woman too, if I was into threesomes. Or polygamy. Which I am most certainly not.

Mark points a finger at Audrey, and she raises her eyebrow at the audacity. “Wait a minute. Nobody found a murder weapon.”

Audrey cocks her head. “Maybe you guys ought to do some actual investigating?”

Goldie pipes up. “I know where his hideout is!”

Audrey lifts one brow.

Mark and the sheriff exchange a look.

“Or should we call the FBI for this one? After all, the man my client allegedly shot is a kidnapper and a known criminal. I’m sure they’d love to know more about that.”

She points finger guns at both Mark and her brother.

Goldie leans into me, and I slip my arm around her back.

Suddenly, I have an idea. It’s an off-the-wall idea, but it could clear Goldie’s name.

And since I’m not the one under arrest here, it’s time for me to chime in.

“Wait just a damn minute. I might have something useful.”

“Sir, what are you doing?” Audrey asks as I pull out my phone and unlock it.

“I have trail cam footage. I pay extra for storage because of the birds.”

Audrey asks, “Did he say birds?”

Goldie gasps. “Oh my god, you don’t think…”

“I do think. Audrey, when does the medical examiner think Trace was shot? I have automatic time stamps for big things like grizzlies. And assholes.”

“Oh my god, no way,” Goldie breathes.

October 31 was the first snowstorm of the season on the mountain. I scroll back to the major time stamp before that, and there it is. It’s not as clear as day, except there appears to be a struggle. Someone who definitely looks like the dead guy falling forward, jerkily. I shake off the terrible dread at seeing someone in their last moments of life.

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