Page 10 of Ms. Fortune
“It’s hunting season, Lucky. You grew up on the property. You should know better than anyone that people are going to be up and down that river until the season ends. All those pictures prove is that someone was down in the basin. I doubt the blood belongs to a human. Someone was probably cleaning a fish or small game at the water’s edge. And look at how you’re limping. The torn fabric is more than likely from a tourist who tripped and fell because they had no business being in the wilderness.”
I gritted my back teeth and felt my nostrils flare with irritation at the none-too-subtle insinuation that I no longer knew my way around the mountainside. I was a Blue River native, born and raised in this small town. Just because I’d left for a few years for college didn’t mean I lost my local status.
Before I could argue back, the sheriff sighed and debunked my final concern.
“You and I both know it was irresponsible of you to go wandering around the woods without the proper gear. You should’ve had a safety vest on. We also know inexperienced hunters account for most of the accidental firearm injuries we see around these parts. It happens during the season at least once a year. This time, you were just unlucky to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and got mistaken for prey.”
I wanted to repeat what I’d said to Risky about no one hunting with a handgun, but it felt like I would just be wasting my breath. The older man had clearly decided that Iwas overreacting to common occurrences and was just being a nuisance, like I had been prone to back in the day.
“Being unlucky is nothing new to me, Sheriff.” I rose to my feet and shook out my hands, which I’d unknowingly curled into fists like I was ready to fight. “Thank you for your time.”
I snatched my phone off his desk and left the office in a serious huff.
Every day while I lived in the city, I longed for home. Because of the rose-colored glasses I viewed Blue River through, I’d forgotten there were things about living in a small town that weren’t the best, and that everyone knowing your business inside and out was rarely any fun.
“Lucky.”
At the man’s serious tone, I paused with my hand on the door of the sheriff’s office and looked over my shoulder.
“I know what happened in Denver. I read the police report. I sincerely hope you didn’t plan on bringing any of that back to Blue River with you. This is a peaceful, easygoing town. The only things that cause me a headache regularly are having to deal with entitled and rambunctious tourists—and you.”
I took a deep breath and forced myself to rein in my volatile emotions. If I had a singular sore spot, this grumpy old man had just poked it. The wound was too fresh and too raw for me to take anyone targeting it lightly.
“If you read the file, you should know I had nothing to do with what happened. It was simply a tragedy.”
The sheriff lifted his bushy white eyebrows and gave me a judgmental glance. “A preventable tragedy. If that boy had fallen for anyone but you, he’d still be around, and his family wouldn’t be grieving.”
I jerked open the door as fury filled every vein in my body. “Funny, guys like you always call him a boy, as if he wasn’t a full decade older than me when we started dating. I rememberwhen it all happened, and the press and law enforcement in Denver accused me of leading Baker on. They didn’t want to look at the thousands of text messages he had sent me each day or listen to the increasingly unhinged voicemails he’d left. No one pointed a finger at his history of mental illness or that his previous girlfriend had a restraining order against him. Nobody mentioned he’d stalked one of his coworkers. None of that mattered because it was a better story to say I’d led him on, that I’d driven him to the point of no return like some sort of Lolita.”
I huffed an aggravated breath and stepped out the door. “That isn’t luck. It’s a flawed mentality and blatant bias and misogyny.” None of which I was surprised to find in my hometown.
I left the sheriff’s office in a quietly boiling rage. When I reached my old truck, I kicked the tire out of frustration, forgetting I had soft slippers on to accommodate my swollen ankle and foot. I jumped when my toes started to throb after making contact. I looked up in embarrassment when the driver’s door opened and a long leg in faded jeans appeared.
My truck was older than dirt. It was a stick shift, which I normally had no problem with, but at the moment, my ankle screamed at me every time I put too much pressure on it. I’d had no choice but to rope Risky into playing chauffeur and was surprised he was familiar with a manual transmission. After the disaster with the skid loader, I could only picture him operating something small and automatic. He’d struck me as a flashy-import kind of guy underneath that flannel.
“Are you all right?” There was a hint of humor hidden within his concern.
I pushed my hair out of my face and hobbled to the passenger side of the truck and waved off Risky’s offer to help. It took some effort to hoist myself up into the cab, but I managed, cut hand, sprained ankle, and all. I looked at Risky from the corner of myeye when he climbed behind the steering wheel. He didn’t say anything, just started the truck and headed out of town, back toward the lodge. Waiting a solid ten minutes for anI told you so, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself when it never came.
I was used to causing chaos and being told what a burden I was in the aftermath. It felt strange that Risky hadn’t batted an eye over any of the unprecedented situations I’d dragged him into.
I propped my elbow on the ledge next to the window that no longer rolled down and forked my fingers through my hair and rested my head on my palm.
I stared at the man in the driver’s seat and told him, “You were right. The sheriff didn’t even bother to look through all the pictures. He thinks everything is related to novice hunters and that I’m overreacting.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “He’s been the sheriff in Blue River since I was a teenager, so I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything else. He’s always had a terrible opinion of me.”
He grunted and turned his head to meet my gaze briefly. “Personal opinions shouldn’t matter when you have a job to do.”
“I agree. Unfortunately, that’s not how things work in a tiny town like this. Personal is a given. Professional depends on the day and the mood of whoever you are dealing with.”
One of Risky’s dark eyebrows lifted. “What’d you do to leave such a shitty impression?”
I chuckled, the sound devoid of any humor or cheer. “My parents are local. Everyone knows they had me when they were teenagers. My mom’s parents hated the talk and scrutiny so much that they left. They didn’t care if she came with them or not.” Which was why she’d had no issue doing the same thing to me. “She’s lucky my dad’s parents took her—and me—in. I came into the world under the shadow of irresponsibility and impulsiveness. My parents have always lived up to every badthing people around here whisper about them. I’m guilty by association.”
I sighed again and shifted to look out the window. “I never wanted to leave my grandparents alone at the lodge, especially when they got older. My grandfather insisted I go to college. He wasn’t going to leave the property to me if I didn’t agree. A lot of folks around here think I abandoned them for the city, and they blame me for letting the lodge fall into disrepair after my grandpa’s death. The property has always been a local landmark of sorts. If I couldn’t take care of it the way it deserved, the locals wanted me to sell it so it wasn’t an eyesore.”
“Why didn’t you come home when you finished college if the lodge was so important to you?”
I dropped my hand and let my forehead hit the window. The glass was cool, but it did nothing to temper the fiery anger still surging through my blood from dealing with the sheriff.
