Page 3 of Manhunt in the Narrows
“Oh, uh. Well, it’s been a while.” Risner’s nerves got the better of him, sucking the vibrato right from his voice. Yeah, no. Elias couldn’t rely on someone who cowered at a hint of “I’ve been managing my team more these past couple of years.”
They’d wasted enough time. Every minute he wasn’t on that trail was another opportunity their killer would slip away. Again. Elias faced off with the remaining rangers. “Who here has the most experience in the Narrows?”
“Sayles does,” one of the other rangers offered. “She hikes it every weekend like clockwork.”
Risner ducked his chin. “Unfortunately, Ranger Green doesn’t quite have the experience you’d need for your search, Agent Broyles. She’s only been working here a few months.”
“I thought you prided yourself on training the best rangers in the National Park Service,” Elias said. “If Ranger Green has the most experience on the trail, she’s the one I want guiding me during this manhunt.”
Risner’s jaw worked back and forth before he raised his hands in surrender. “Of course. Whatever the FBI needs. I’ll get her for you.”
“Not necessary. She just left. I’m sure I can find my way around a parking lot.” His words sounded a lot more defensive than he’d meant, but there was something about the district ranger Elias didn’t like. He shoved through the visitors’ center doors and sucked in a breath at the view. Grand red rock cliffs stood sentinel from every direction, bright orange asmidday sun arced overhead. It was enough to remind him how inconsequential a single human was on this planet.
Movement through the half-empty lot caught his eye. There one moment. Gone the next. Elias picked up his pace, ignoring the commotion around a built-out van two rows over as his partner ripped the vehicle apart for evidence. It took less than two minutes to catch up with the woman determined to get as far from him as possible. “Ranger Green, hold up.”
She slowed her escape but didn’t bother turning to face him. Head tipped back onto her shoulder, she’d obviously hoped to get out of the lot unscathed. Ebony hair cascaded across lean shoulders uniformed in a gray button-up before she confronted him. “Agent Broyles.”
The defensiveness in those two words shook him to his core. “Word is you have the most experience in the Narrows. I’d like you to assist me during this investigation.”
She paled at the statement. According to her expression, it most definitely was not a compliment. “There are far more qualified rangers I’m sure are happy to tag along during your search.”
“No. There aren’t. I need to get up that trail fast without dying, and according to your colleagues, you hike the trail every weekend.” He wasn’t going to budge. It would be her, or he’d have to hike with Risner. Not exactly his idea of a good time. “You have up-to-date experience I could use to find the man who killed a hiker in your park this morning.”
Ranger Green stepped into him, all fury and barely leashed control pinching her eyes at the corners. Even a whole head shorter than him, she stood there as a one-woman army. “Did Risner put you up to this?”
“Excuse me?” He had the urge to step back to avoid whatever hell was about to rain down on him, but he was an FBI agent, for crying out loud. He could handle one little ranger.
“Is this another one of his pranks?” she asked. “To see how far he can push me before I quit? Because I’m telling you right now, it won’t work. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Though he wanted to know exactly what the district ranger had done to get a rise out of her like this. “I really just don’t want to die on that trail, and you seem like the kind of person who can make sure that doesn’t happen. Please.”
The heat in her expression drained, but Ranger Green didn’t add that distance back between them. She looked him up and down, taking in his jeans and T-shirt and tennis shoes. “You’re going to need gear and supplies. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” His question had nothing to do with this investigation and everything to do with his own curiosity for a woman who clearly anticipated a battle from everyone around her.
“I don’t have to like you during your manhunt.” Ranger Green headed for a beat-up four-door sedan and tossed her pack inside. “I just have to keep you alive.”
Chapter Three
Closing down the park took an act of God.
Or a serial killer on the loose.
Sayles clipped into her custom hydro bib. The waterproof material resembled a pair of overalls apart from one key difference: it added at least ten pounds to her already heavy gear. Worth it. The Narrows was one of the least forgiving trails in Zion. If you could call it a trail at all. Entry started at the bottom and forced hikers to travel upstream directly in the Virgin River anywhere from ankle-deep waters to full-blown you’re-going-to-have-to-swim-from-here-on-out. And considering April marked that time of year when the snowbanks started melting, she and Agent Broyles were in for a treat. They could look forward to freezing temperatures and loss of more favorable camping locations ahead.
They had to do this fast.
Speak of the devil himself. She watched as Agent Broyles hauled a backpack over one muscled shoulder, those dark eyes locked on her as he approached from the visitors’ center. It was cute the way he thought he’d get through this in jeans and T-shirt. This wasn’t one of the park’s amateur hikes where parents could carry their toddlers on their shoulders or stop to have a snack.
“Did you get everything on the list?” The answer was plain as day in his chosen outfit. Jeans would soak up river waterand weigh him down. Not to mention they wouldn’t do a whole lot of good against hypothermia. She could just imagine the blisters from the seams now. She’d left the suggestions for gear and supply with one of the information rangers in the visitors’ center. He’d clearly chosen to ignore some of the key components. Probably thought he knew best, but nature didn’t work that way, and people had died in the park for that same arrogance.
Agent Broyles unshouldered his bag, setting it down in front of him in the lot. They’d have to take the shuttle back to Temple of Sinawava to access the trailhead, then go on foot from there. And the sooner they got going, the better. She’d caught word of a storm about forty miles out that looked like it had its sights on the park. While she was sure the rest of Springdale police and whoever Agent Broyles had brought along on this hunt could manage their respective search grids in the rain, the Narrows would kill them if it flooded. “Think so. First aid kit, matches and a lighter, water, map, sunscreen, flashlight, knife, some food.”
It was a good start. Between the two of them, they could make up the lack wherever needed, but there was one key item missing off that list. “What about a tent?”
She wasn’t the sharing type.
“Worried you’ll have to bunk with me, Ranger Green?” Amusement lit up his face and corrupted the whole emotionally unavailable law enforcement officer persona he’d had going on in the visitors’ center. She wasn’t dead. Agent Broyles was more than handsome with high cheekbones, a strong jawline with the barest hint of facial hair, a straight nose with a bump between his eyes that said he’d broken it at least once and a body that would put any Greek god to shame. None of which would be getting within twelve inches of her if she could manage.
