Clarence’s mouth lifted in the start of a smile. “Blasted.”
Chuck nodded. “Blitzed.”
Clarence grinned. “Pulverized, dude. Totally, absolutely obliterated.”
Chuck chuckled and bent over his pack, digging out his lunch. The faint rattle of tumbling rocks reached him from where Mount Landen’s rugged northwest ridge etched the skyline half a mile away.
He looked up in time to see a Rocky Mountain sheep clamber into sight over the top the ridge. The sheep, a ewe, was followed by another ewe, then another. Gradually, three dozen more sheep ambled over the ridge, their hooves sending small stones clattering into a steep couloir below them. The animals fanned out, nipping at the dry, brown bunch grass on the slope as they made their way across the north side of the mountain toward Chuck and Clarence.
Chuck scanned the grazing sheep, looking for trophy rams. His eyes fell on animal after animal. Each was a ewe, a first-year lamb, or a juvenile male with nascent, half-curl horns—yet a herd this big should not be without two or more adult rams with broad chests and fully curled horns.
Chuck slid his sandwich from its baggie and bit into it, waiting to spot the heavy-horned rams sure to trot over the ridge to unite with the herd at any moment.
The sheep continued to graze their way across the north slope of the mountain. By the time Chuck finished his sandwich, the sheep were well clear of the ridge—and not a single adult ram had topped the rocky crest to join them.
Chuck’s phone pinged several times to announce incoming texts when the van reentered service range on the way back to the resort. Throughout the van, phones dinged and chimed, prompting the students to stop talking to one another and set their thumbs to work.
Chuck pulled the van to a stop at Raven House fifteen minutes later. The students grouped at the rear door to retrieve their packs, then stood with their packs in hand, waiting for Chuck to address them.
Chuck slipped between the students to the rear of the van, grabbed his pack, and backed away a few steps. What was there to say?
His eyes roamed from old, rundown Raven House with its warped, clapboard exterior to new, stucco Falcon House capped by its shiny, green metal roof. Between the two buildings, amid tufts of buffalo grass, he spotted the shallow divot dug by the police the night before to gather the blood that had soaked into the ground.
Someone knew something about Clarence’s knife and the human blood, and that someone was either one of the students standing before him, or one of the Falcon House employees.
Who might it be? He hadn’t a clue.
He glanced across the fields toward the cabin. Janelle’s glare as he’d left this morning had made clear the risk he’d taken in heading to the mine with the students so soon after Rosie’s seizure. He assumed Rosie hadn’t suffered a relapse today because he’d gotten no voicemails or texts from Janelle—though the absence of any of her usual, chatty messages was a bad enough sign by itself.
When they realized Chuck had nothing to say, the students turned and headed up the walk to Raven House. Chuck slung his pack over his shoulder and motioned Clarence and Kirina to his side.
“Stick close to the dorm,” he told them. “I want to know who’s talking to who, whether anybody’s acting shady.”
A corner of Kirina’s mouth drew up. “Acting shady?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I can tell you one thing. Whatever this is, no one from Team Nugget is involved. My girls aren’t thieves, and they’re not knife-wielding maniacs either.”
Clarence declared, “My guys aren’t involved either. I’m sure of it.”
Breaking the students into two work teams had been Clarence’s idea. Chuck had expected problems when the students had self-selected their teams along gender lines. To his surprise, however, the members of the two teams had gotten along well with each other at the mine and during their off hours throughout the summer.
“Nobody’s accusing anybody of anything at this point,” Chuck said. “Just keep your eyes open, okay? Both of you.”
He hurried across the fields, past the lodge and conference center, and up the curving drive through the woods to the cabin. He owed Professor Sartore a call, but Rosie took priority—as did squaring things with Janelle.
He released his bottled-up breath when he saw the pickup still parked where he’d left it upon returning from the hospital the night before. But a vehicle he didn’t recognize—a rugged SUV with a Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation sticker on its bumper and a mountain bike attached to a rack on its roof—was parked next to the truck. Janelle opened the cabin’s front screen door as Chuck approached, allowing Gregory, the young doctor from the emergency room, to step onto the wooden deck ahead of her.
Gregory hailed Chuck from the uncovered porch with a wave and a wide smile. “Yo, dude.”
Chuck stopped at the bottom of the short flight of stairs leading to the deck. “Hey.”
Janelle, trailing Gregory out the door, came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Chuck. “Gregory called and asked if he could make a house call,” she explained.
Gregory flipped his blond hair out of his eyes with a toss of his head. “I finished my shift. Figured I’d swing by, make sure Rosie was cool.”
Chuck’s eyes went from the young doctor to Janelle and back. He addressed Gregory, keeping his voice even. “I take it everything’s…cool?”
Janelle spoke first. “I told him she was doing fine when he called.”
Gregory shrugged. “I got a few hours of shut-eye last night, after you guys left. Usually I go straight home and hit the sack at the end of my shifts.”
Chuck knew he should say something appreciative. Unlike the doctor, however, he hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. Besides, his appreciation would be expressed through his payment of the medical bill.
“Guess I’ll get going then,” Gregory said when Chuck didn’t speak. The young physician turned and pointed a friendly finger at Rosie and Carmelita, who stood together behind the screen door. “Glad to see you doing so well, Rosie. And you, Carmelita, take good care of your little sister for me, okay?”
“Okay,” Carmelita said with a shy smile before looking at her feet.
Chuck stood aside to allow Gregory to descend the stairs. When the doctor was well down the drive in his SUV, Chuck climbed the steps to Janelle and summoned a smile. “She’s really doing okay, huh?”
Janelle rigidly accepted a peck on the cheek. He turned at the sound of pounding feet to see Rosie hurtling herself across the porch at him.
“Chuck!” she cried, diving into his arms. “I’m all better now. I’m the bestest ever.”
Chuck lifted her and settled her on his hip, her legs dangling past his knees. “You are, are you?” He looked to Janelle for confirmation.
“She slept late this morning,” Janelle
