style="font-size:15px;"> “I told you not to answer the call,” Faith wailed. “Five minutes later and we’d have been on the water.”
Hope hurried out of the Jeep Liberty and grabbed Faith’s backpack before approaching the passenger side. “Best-case scenario, another ranger will handle it and I’ll be back by launch time. I can also rent a kayak to catch up with the group.”
“Are you high? I’m not going without you.”
“Come on, Faith. They might have to cancel the whole trip if we both don’t show. They need a certain number of people in the raft.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “So?”
“It’s bad for park business.”
“Park business,” Faith muttered, climbing out of the vehicle. “That’s all you care about.”
Hope’s heart twisted in her chest. She knew she worked too much. During last summer’s vacation, she’d returned to the park two days early to fill in for an injured employee. Faith and Hope had argued about her dedication to her job before. “No, it’s not.”
“Next year we’re going to Las Vegas for an indoor vacation. We’ll buy cocktails instead of trail mix.” Faith’s mouth thinned as she pointed a slender finger at her. “And I’ll make you wear my clothes.”
“Done.”
“If I drown, I’ll never forgive you.”
“You won’t drown,” Hope said, hugging her tight. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She let go of her sister with regret and climbed behind the wheel once again, waving as she drove away. Faith looked disappointed, even forlorn, and Hope felt awful. If she missed the entire trip, their vacation would be ruined.
Hands tightening around the steering wheel, she turned down the winding forest service road toward Mineral King.
Although she tried to stay upbeat, it wasn’t easy. She worked a lot of solitary hours as a park ranger. During her time off, she enjoyed quiet individual pursuits like hiking and photographing wildlife. She’d been anticipating her sister’s visit for months. Faith was right—she needed to interact with people more.
The Mineral King Station was in a remote section of the park, popular with backpackers and rock climbers. Families with small children often just drove through, and day hikers flocked to more accessible places like Giant Forest and Crescent Meadow. Because of its distance from the main tourist attractions, Mineral King had the hushed, pristine quality of true wilderness. Bear sightings were common.
She parked outside the station house, next to a forest service vehicle. Owen Jackson, a park attendant, had been appointed to take her place this morning. He sat behind the front desk, across from Sam Rutherford.
Sam was a local rock climbing celebrity, a recluse and the last person on earth Hope wanted to see.
Her mood plummeted further. Sam must have reported the plane crash. She’d been hoping for an unreliable witness, maybe a hippie backpacker who’d taken some psychedelic drugs and confused a shooting star for a horrific accident.
Sam glanced over his shoulder at her, his dark gaze skimming her body. Recognition and unease registered in his eyes, but he didn’t flinch or tense his muscles. Instead, he returned his focus to Owen, as if waiting for an introduction.
How dare he pretend not to know her?
The two men appeared comfortable with each other, which didn’t surprise her. Sam had recommended Owen for an entry-level position last summer. He donated fat checks to the park every year, so his suggestions were greeted with polite consideration. Hope had interviewed Owen herself and found little fault with him, other than a felony record. He’d worked on a prison forestry crew, so he had wildfire experience.
“Ranger Banning,” Owen said, rising to his feet. He was a lean, cagey young man with close-cropped blond hair and haunting blue eyes. There was a thin red mark on his neck, and a larger, thicker welt on his hand. When she’d inquired about the scars, he told her that he’d had some tattoos removed.
Since his start date, Owen had been a model employee. He had a quick mind and a strong back. Unlike some of the young male park attendants, he didn’t hit on tourists or drink too much. Hope had come to like him.
She wondered, and not for the first time, what connected a former inmate to a former Olympian. According to a rumor spread by women who’d struck out with one or the other, they were lovers.
Hope had personal evidence to the contrary.
“This is Sam Rutherford,” he said.
“We’ve met.”
“He reported the incident.”
Sam stood to greet her with insulting belatedness. “Nice to see you again...Ranger Banning.”
She realized that he was fishing for her first name. Indignation filled her, suffusing her cheeks with heat. “It’s Hope.”
“Hope. Right.”
Judging by his expression, he remembered what she looked like naked, if nothing else. She took a deep breath, counting on her tanned complexion to mask her embarrassment. “When was the crash?”
“Around 3:00 a.m.”
“What were you doing at 3:00 a.m.?”
He hesitated for a second. “Climbing.”
Night climbing was unusual, but not unheard of, in summer months. Visitors took advantage of the cooler temperatures and available moonlight. Illegal activities like BASE jumping were often done under the cloak of darkness, as well.
“What did you see?”
“Just lights. I think it was a single-engine plane, flying too low. It hit the top of Angel Wings and burst into flames.”
“Where were you?”
“On Valhalla. Near the summit.”
Valhalla was a steep rock face directly across from Angel Wings. She checked her watch, noting that it was eight-twenty. “You got from there to here in five hours?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I ran.”
Upon closer study, his shirt was damp with perspiration. The lightweight fabric clung to his broad shoulders and flat stomach. Maybe he’d been slow to stand because he was tired, not out of disrespect, but he didn’t appear fatigued. Despite the sweat, he was an endurance athlete and it showed. From the soles of his well-worn shoes to the top of his dark-haired head, he radiated strength and vitality.
She remembered how he looked naked, too: good. Very good.
“Have a seat,” she said, clearing her throat. She turned to Owen. “You’ve relayed this information to Dispatch?”
