Page 63 of Death Valley

“She didn’t plan for things to happen the way they did,” he says, his voice rough with regret. “None of us did.”

I force myself to meet his gaze, to face whatever terrible truth comes next. “Tell me everything,” I say. “From the beginning.”

Jensen takes a deep breath, settling into the chair across from me. Outside, the storm continues its assault, snow hissing against the windowpanes, wind moaning through the eaves like a living creature.

“They came to the ranch in early May,” he begins. “Lainey was excited, almost manic, talking a mile a minute about the research she’d done, the connections she’d made. Adam was…different. Quiet. Controlling. He’d cut her off mid-sentence, squeeze her arm when she said too much. Like he was embarrassed of her. I didn’t like him from the start.”

I nod, remembering the few times I’d met Adam. How Lainey seemed smaller in his presence, less vibrant. How she’d call to cancel plans at the last minute, always with an excuse that sounded rehearsed, like he was standing off to the side and making sure she did it.

“He had money too. I don’t know where he got it, but I suspect drugs. Didn’t matter to me, though. Payment was payment. And Lainey wanted to go deep into the mountains,” Jensen continues. “To the places where the McAlisters had been—not just the main Donner camp by the lake, but where they’d moved to get away from the others. Where Josephine was born. Where the transformation began.”

“And you took them,” I say, unable to keep the accusation from my voice.

Pain flashes across his face. “Yes. I took them. To be honest with you, I was curious. I wanted to believe her theories—about the curse, about the hunger, about people living in the mountains for over a century. It aligned with what Jake McGraw passed down through the generations of my family, stories about how he and his wife, Eve, met, searching for survivors in the area when yet another party went missing. About what they saw. About what creatures they’d defeated. These hungry ones. It was the closest I’d gotten to having someone believe in my ownfamily history, from someone outside the family, of course. And your sister’s enthusiasm, her passion, was contagious.”

I swallow hard. “What happened up there?”

“We made good progress the first few days. Camped at the same spots we’ve been staying at. Took the same trail. Lainey was…exhilarated by it all. She kept taking notes, taking pictures.”

“The alcove by the creek? With the bracelet and the sky pilots and the markings. Was that her?”

He shrugs. “When I saw it with you the other day, that was the first I’d seen it. But she had been in the area, off exploring with Adam. She may have left it on purpose. Perhaps for you. Maybe even had seeds on her, who knows.”

My throat tightens with unexpected emotion. Even in her obsession, even running toward something dangerous and unknown, Lainey had thought of me. Had left pieces of herself for me to find.

Did she know she wasn’t coming back?

When she said the mountains were calling, did she know the answers would hold her hostage?

That they would possibly kill her in the end?

“Tell me more about Adam,” I demand.

Jensen’s expression darkens. “He thought they were up here for some kind of spiritual journey—at least that’s what Lainey told him. But I got the sense he was just humoring her, letting her have her little adventure before he…” He trails off, jaw tightening.

I press my fingers into the table. “Before he what?”

“Before he pulled her away from everything she cared about,” Jensen says bluntly.

“The way abusers do,” I whisper.

I swallow hard, guilt settling like a stone in my gut. I’d known Adam was bad news. Had seen the warning signs. But I’d beentoo wrapped up in my own problems, my own life, too willing to take Lainey’s assurances at face value. Too much the FBI agent who could see clearly on the job but was blind to what was right in front of her at home.

Some investigator I am. I deserve to have my badge taken away.

“On the fourth day,” Jensen continues, “we reached a spot just beyond Benson Hut. Down in the valley. Close to Soda Springs.” He pauses, rubbing his palms against his thighs as if trying to warm them. “Lainey was convinced we were close to where the McAlisters had camped. Where Josephine was born. She wanted to explore some caves she’d found on old survey maps.”

“And did you?”

He nods, eyes distant with memory, the flames from the fire jumping in them. “We made camp at the base of the ridge. Plan was to explore the cave system in the morning. But that night…”

He falls silent, gaze fixed on something I can’t see. Something that still haunts him.

“That night?” I prompt, trying to be patient but still frustrated at the same time.

“Adam and Lainey had a fight,” he says finally. “I couldn’t hear everything—I was keeping watch a little ways from camp—but it was bad. He was shouting, calling her crazy, delusional. Said it was time to stop indulging her insanity and go home. I heard a slap, saw her stumble out of their tent. She had a red mark on her face.”

Rage blooms hot in my chest. “He hit her?”

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