Page 90 of The Harborer
“No way to tell until they date the bones, but if the other stuff they found is any indication, the remains don’t date backthatfar.” Gunderson scrolled his images and settled on one. He zoomed in and handed the device to Shane. “One of the hands is intact, and it’s holding the first clue. Check it out.”
Shane stared at skeletal fingers clutching a clear bottle. Part of a sleeve, caked in mud and vegetation, was visible. Peeking from beneath the fabric was a twisted copper bracelet. Though it was blackened with age, something about its shape punched Shane in the gut. His mind blanked.No, it couldn’t be.Gunderson yammered on about maybe some jokester arranging a pose, but there was nothing staged about the scene.
Shane stepped backward and sank onto the couch as though in slow motion.
Gunderson’s smile was quickly replaced by a look of concern. “Hey, man. You’re as white as a sheet. Are you all right?”
The cushion to the side dipped, and he was vaguely aware Amy sat beside him. “Shane?” She took the phone from his grip, glanced at it, and handed it back to the ranger. “What’s that a picture of?” she asked Gunderson.
“It’s a skeleton holding a whiskey bottle. Judging by the shape of the bottle and what’s left of the label, I’d guess it dates back about ten years.”
Gunderson left, and Shanesat staring into dead space. He was vaguely aware that Amy nestled his hand in her small ones and held it in her lap.
The images on Gunderson’s phone had sent his mind into a free fall. His brain was like a party popper that had just gone off, and his thoughts were millions of bits of confetti fluttering and floating without cohesion.
“Shane, what is it?” He turned his head slowly. Amy’s face was filled with worry. She searched his eyes, and she could probably see he was struggling inside. “You don’t have to tell me,” she said softly.
“Yes, I do.” He loved her with his whole being, and he wanted to make her a permanent fixture in his life. How could he do that if she didn’t know his entire past? If he was going to be the man she deserved, it was time to tear off the Band-aid.
She opened her mouth—probably to argue—and he cut her off. “I want to spend the rest of my life learning every little detail about you and having you know every detail about me. This detail is a damn big one.”
Uncoupling their hands, he sat back and pulled her into his lap so her side nestled against his chest and her legs draped over his thighs. He wrapped his arms around her and locked his fingers together. Her warm weight gave him the strength he needed to begin.
“You already know my dad was a state trooper who bent the rules to his advantage. Shit, that’s not true. Hebrokethe rules.”
She covered his heart with her palm. “And because some of your ancestors did too, you have this crazy idea it’s in your DNA. That’s why you work so hard to uphold the law.” She drew back and smoothed his hair. “You have integrity, and I admire you for it.”
“God, you’re perfect,” he whispered.
She smiled and kissed his mouth. “I know this is hard, and I didn’t mean to make it harder by interrupting your train of thought.”
“You didn’t.” It was just fucking hard, period. But hehadto move past it. For himself. Forthem.
She snuggled back against him. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere. I’m ready to listen whenever you’re ready to tell me.”
“Yeah.” He swallowed hard, trying to muscle down the wad that had formed in his throat.
With her thumb, Amy stroked the base of his neck as if she knew words were stuck there. The motion was simple yet soothing, and it grounded him, helped him recover his voice and let the river of words flow out of him.
“My dad was an oak of a man. Big, strong, tough as nails. I used to look up to him with awe. Thought he was a superhero. Wanted to be just like him. Anytime he wanted to do stuff with me, I jumped at the chance.
“One thing he liked to do was take us boys hunting when we were younger. Those were great trips I’ll always remember. When I was in my late teens, we went on one of those trips. We didn’t know it at the time, but it would be the last one with all four of us together. Dad didn’t seem like himself, but I didn’t think anything of it. Looking back, the timing lined up with the start of the investigation against him. He was probably feeling the heat.
“We were sitting around the campfire one night, he told my brothers and me that if he ever got dementia or some other incurable, slow-moving disease, we needed to leave him in the woods with a bottle of his favorite bourbon on a cold day and walk away. My brothers and I laughed it off. Dad wasn’t laughing, though, and I remember thinking to myself, ‘He’s serious.’ Later, he pulled me aside and said he’d never ask me to do something like that because my conscience couldn’t handle it. I never forgot that because it was so out of context.”
Unshed tears made Shane’s eyes burn, and she seemed to sense his distress, pulling herself closer.
“When he took off, he left everything behind—his car, his wallet, his phone. Never came home. The whole situation was so surreal. It was as if he just walked out the door and vanished. I used to think an alien ship had beamed him up.” He let out a mirthless chuckle. “Mom thought he had arranged to run off with another woman, and that she picked him up that day and they fled the country to start a new life together. She also thought he’d stolen a lot more than we realized, and they were cashing in the stash. Depressing as it is, that made sense to me, especially as I got older and moved into law enforcement.
“Any way you slice it, it was a frantic time. Besides his buddies at CSP looking for him, Sheriff Chesterton threw in the Department’s resources. He hadn’t been elected sheriff yet, but he had pull. I was just starting out with search and rescue, and the team and I searched the entire area, top to bottom. Never found a trace of him.”
“It would take a lifetime to search every nook and cranny of the county. After that, there would be the next county and the next. Acres and acres of wilderness. Where do you stop? When does it end?” Despite the overwhelming odds, Shane still looked sometimes, part of him hoping not to find anything while the other part hoped he’d find remains—like the ones they had just found at the old Allen cabin. He’d never expected it to be so jarring, though.
“Later, after I joined the Sheriff’s Department and learned more about investigating, I got to thinking about the odd way he’d disappeared. I put aside the personal side of it and started looking at it more objectively and from different angles. I’d considered the possibility of an accident or someone killing him, but what if his sins caught up to his conscience and he couldn’t live with himself anymore? What if the corpse they found is him?”
“What makes you think it is?” she murmured.
“The fabric on the sleeve in Gunderson’s picture. I need a closer look, but it’s the same pattern as a plaid jacket Dad used to wear. And the bottle. His favorite brand was the same shape, and what’s left of the label matches too. That bracelet?”
