And just like that, the panic roared back. “Oh no, you don’t. You’re not leaving me alone again!”
“I would really rather you stayed here.”
“No. Effing. Way.”
Gunner huffed. “I have to go photograph and search a body. You don’t want to see that.”
“A dead—” Chas broke off, too shocked to finish. Oh God. It was as bad as he’d feared. Gunner was standing there, talking as calmly about death as if they were discussing the weather. “What on earth happened out here?”
“It was an accident. The guy did something super stupid and broke his neck. I couldn’t let go fast enough.”
“You killed him?” Chas gasped.
“No. He broke his own neck in a dumbass attempt to slip the grip I had on him. Assuming he wasn’t trying to actually kill himself. Which is also possible.”
“And you’re not completely freaked-out?” Chas demanded.
“Chasten. I’m United States Navy SEAL.”
“I know. But… someonedied. You’re so calm. Too calm.”
“Death comes with the job. We’re trained to be calm about it. And honestly, this guy was colossally stupid or suicidal. Either way, I wouldn’t have been able to stop him. He moved too abruptly for me to react and turn him loose.” Gunner shrugged, and Chas stared at him in horror.
“How can you be so… casual… about this?”
“Death is never casual,” Gunner snapped.
Chas’s eyes widened. Okay. So Gunner wasn’t completely soulless about having killed some guy. That was a hopeful sign. “You seem so relaxed out here. How is that possible? Bad guys were running around trying to kill you—kill us—and you’re all Mr. Chill. You’re so… in your element.”
Gunner glanced around. “Welcome to my office.”
Chas took a deep breath. Through the haze of his outrage and residual panic, he still sensed what an intimate thing it was for Gunner to share this side of himself with anyone who wasn’t a SEAL. Not that he hated any of it one bit less.
He asked in resignation, “So, where’s this body you have to photograph?”
“A hundred yards or so along the ridge above us. We’ll have to go around the ridge in the opposite direction, which is a bit of a hike up the cliff to the top. It’s a nasty free climb. Not long, but tricky. It’s about a half mile to go around, so we’d better get going.”
Chas volunteered reluctantly, “I used to rock climb. It probably won’t be that big a challenge for me if you want to go straight up.”
“You did?” Gunner blurted.
“I’m not a total couch potato.”
“I took you for more the ballroom dancing type.”
Chas grinned. “Oh, I’ve done that too.”
Gunner rolled his eyes. “I hate dancing.”
“That’s because you’ve never done it with me.”
They reached the ridge, and Gunner showed him where he’d climbed the cliff face. A quick scan with a red-lensed flashlight showed an easier section of rock off to the left a bit, and they chose to scale the wall there instead.
“You go first,” Gunner said. “Be careful of loose rock. This shale cracks off super easily. But I’ll be right behind you.”
“So you can spot me from behind? Or ogle my epic glutes?”
The white flash of Gunner’s teeth indicated that he’d smiled.