I let Claudia cry herself out and sometime after she’s snoring softly on my chest, I pass out. I don't know what time it is when shouting in the hallway jerks us both awake. Claudia grimaces and grabs her forehead.

“Shit. You okay?”

“Yeah. Just really tender.”

I ease out of the bed, giving her some space to get comfortable again without me in the way.

“They are both in there?! Together?” the voice that woke me up says.

“Yeah—it seems so.” That’s Jerry.

“Jesus. You guys really know how to run a tight ship.”

“Listen—”

I take a deep breath and move the IV stand closer to the bed as Claudia adjusts her covers. When I look up, a White man and a White woman in dark suits are standing in the doorway. Jerry’s behind them, his face all puffed up and red.

“Shepard Olsen? Claudia Cade?” the woman asks.

“Yes?” we both say.

“I'm Alice Lightfoot and this is my partner, Scott Tanner. We’re with the FBI. We need to speak to you.”

I glance down at Claudia.

“Okay. Speak,” I say.

“Shep.” I look at Jerry over their shoulders and shoot him an incredulous look.

“What?”

“We need to speak to Miss Cade as well. Without you.”

I glance back down at Claudia. She looks terrified, but when her fingers brush mine I realize she’s trying to comfort me.

“For fuck’s sake. Fine. I'll be back,” I tell her.

“Actually, I don't think that would be a good idea. Miss Cade needs some time to recover,” Agent Tanner says.

“Am I under arrest?”

“We’d like to talk to you first.”

“Fine.” I give Claudia’s damaged fingers a light squeeze. “I will be back.”

“Okay,” she says. Her voice is weak, but there’s confidence in her unbruised eye. She knows I’ll be back for her.

We walk out in the hallway. Jerry follows us to the main entrance. He cuts off and walks toward his cruiser near the curb.

“Sheriff, let's see if your men can follow orders this time. She doesn't get any visitors. Hospital personnel only,” Lightfoot says.

“We'll see to it.” He's still red when he jumps behind the wheel and floors it. I watch Jerry speed away and try not to consider what it means that he’s left me with these assholes.

“Where are you going, Mr. Olsen?” Tanner asks.

I turn around. “To my truck.”

They share a look.

“Why don't we come with you. And then we’ll give you a ride back to the station.”

I hold in an annoyed grunt. “Sure thing.”

We walk out to the visitors’ lot. I see right away that May-Bell and I didn't exactly aim for precision when we were scrubbing my truck down. There’s still a few specks of blood on the door.

“Can you unlock it for us?” Agent Lightfoot asks.

I unlock it remotely without taking my keys out of my pocket.

“It's a nice truck. Expected something a little more beat up for someone who lives on the mountain,” Tanner says as he snaps on a pair of rubber gloves. Lightfoot is slowly walking around of the front of my Chevy.

“Yeah, rusted out classics with no heat are great when they break down in the pass,” I say.

“Touché.”

I watch them as they slowly inspect every inch, doing my best to keep my mouth shut. Tanner calls Lightfoot over to the passenger side. He mutters something and then she pulls out her phone.

“Yeah. We need someone down here to collect evidence from Shepard Olsen’s vehicle.” She pauses. “Not much. He scrubbed it pretty good, but there’s still some trace evidence.” She ends the call with a “Yep.” Then turns to Tanner, who's taking off his gloves. “Why don’t you two go have a chat?” I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

Tanner nods, then turns to me with this creepy as fuck smile. “Come on. We’re right over here.” Right over here is back in front of the hospital’s main entrance. They’ve left their car in a red zone. There’s only a few people coming in and out of the main doors, but that’s enough to get people talking. I climb into the front seat to keep the rumors that I’m the real suspect to a minimum. Tanner doesn’t object.

“How do you and Miss Cade know each other?” he asks as we drive away from the hospital.

“We don’t.”

“No doubt you two are already bonded through this experience, but from the looks of things you seem pretty close. I saw the way she looked at you from that hospital bed. My wife isn’t even that protective of me.”

“That sounds like a problem between you and your wife.”

“Hmm.” Tanner grunts and then he laughs. He doesn’t saying anything else until we’re back in the Sheriff’s station. We go through the whole song and dance, but this time Tanner sits me down with a video camera pointing right at me over his shoulder.

“So tell me what happened last night,” he says.

“I heard screaming outside my cabin and then someone banging on my door.”

“Mhmm? Go on.”

“I got up, grabbed my gun and when I opened the door, Claudia—”

“Miss Cade.”

“She told me her name was Claudia. You want me to be more formal?” I ask.

“I want to make sure you two aren’t tangled up in this some other way.”

“Tangled up how? Do you think she and I planned this? Do you think I shot the wrong guy?” I don’t have time for this shit.

“I want to make sure we put the right guy away. Please continue.”

“I opened the door and Claudia basically fell into my arms.”

“And she was injured?”

“Yes, she was covered in blood. She said someone was chasing her—”

“Was she out of breath?”

“Yes.” I sigh. I prefer Jerry’s method of questioning where he barely asks any questions. “Not even thirty seconds later, the guy—the one I shot—came out of the woods.”

“Did he say anything?”

“I told him not to move and he said something about how their little game had come to an end. Like he’d been hunting her.” Tanner nods, then writes something down.

“Did he say anything else?”

“He said we could share her.”

“And then you shot him?”

“I warned him not to come any closer and when he did, I shot him.” I swallow, ignoring the fact that the kickback bruise on my shoulder is still aching.

Tanner goes on. “When was the last time you fired your weapon?”

“Maybe two months ago, down at the range.”

“You ever have to use it up in the woods?”

“Just once. A bear came after my dog, but a warning shot scared it away.”

“Was your dog present last night?”

“Yes.”

“Did he touch either the victim or the deceased?”

“No. I shoved him into the bathroom. You can ask Jerry. He was still in the bathroom when him and the boys went up.” They’re not dragging Titus into this.

The door opens then and Lightfoot walks in and sits in the open chair next to Tanner. I can’t wait to see who’s going to be the bad cop.

“Shep,” she says.

“Shepard works fine,” I say.

“Shepard. What can you tell me about Miles Cade?”

“Not much. All she told me was that her brother was back at the campsite. They were both attacked and he told her to run.”

“So you didn’t go back down to the campsite to check on him?” Lightfoot asks, her frown adding a little extra guilt to the accusation.

“No. I had a woman who was in clear need of medical attention. She didn’t mention her brother until we were halfway down the mountain.”

“In your truck.”

“Yes.”

“From the looks of your cabin, there must have been a lot of blood in your truck. When did you clean it?” Lightfoot asks.

“This morning before I came down. I went to the diner for breakfast.”

“So we have the timeline clear. You’re in bed. Miss Cade shows up at your door. You fire on the deceased, then bring Miss Cade down to the emergency room in Quinten,” Tanner says.

“That’s it. I was at the hospital for a while and then I came here and spoke with Sheriff Bingham. I told him the same thing I’m telling you, exactly as it happened. Is there anything else? Am I under arrest?”

“No, you are not,” Tanner says reluctantly, which makes no fucking sense.

“I thought they got the other guy,” I reply. “I’m not sure what the problem is.”

“There’s no problem—” Lightfoot starts.

Tanner interrupts. “We’re just in the middle of a multi-state investigation. There’s evidence that Douglas Smith, the man you killed, and his accomplice are connected to a series of murders across the national parks system.”

“And that’s why the Feds are involved.”

“That is correct.”

I stand and slip my hat back on. “Well I’m not going anywhere if you have any more questions.”

“Thank you. Let’s see if we can get one of the deputies to give you a lift back up to the Tierneys’ place. Is that where you’re staying?” Tanner asks.

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you head back up there?”

“And what about my truck?”

“We’re just giving it a good twice over,” Lightfoot says. “We’ll let you know when we can turn it back over to you.”

“Thanks,” I say, my tone dry.

Sally Morgan is on the day shift and she’s waiting for me with her keys when we come out of the interrogation room. I hate seeing this look on her face. She’s nervous as hell. Most action she’s seen since joining the force is a hiker who broke his ankle.

“You ready, Shep?” she says, her eyes darting between me and Tanner, who thinks I can’t be trusted to walk to the front of the station.

“Yeah. Thanks for the lift,” I say as she leads the way outside. “You okay?” I ask when she’s behind the wheel.

“Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just—I wasn’t expecting this when I came into work this morning. I mean, I’m in uniform, but…”

“I get it.”

“I feel like—I feel like I should quit.”

“Hey.” I look over and see Sally is dashing tears from under her eyes. “Jer told me I would answer the phones, direct traffic, and poke Mr. Harmon to make sure he’s breathing when they have to stick him in the drunk tank.”

“Here, pull over.” I was sure she could see, but she was starting to hyperventilate and it was starting to rain. She doesn’t need to swerve into oncoming traffic. The shoulder is clear up ahead and she stops and smacks the hazard light. I reach up and turn it off.

“Someone will think your cruiser’s broken down.”

“Right.” Sally lets out a shaky breath, then she turns to me. “They sent me up to your house this morning. The body wasn’t even covered. Jerry told me there was a body, I just didn’t expect it to be out in the open like that. I’m not cut out for this.”

“Don’t quit, Sal. Really. This will be over soon. And I promise I won’t shoot anybody else as long as I live on the mountain,” I say, then nudge her shoulder a little with my closed fist.

When she looks over at me her eyes are still watery. “Oh Shep. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, really.”

“I should quit anyway. You’re going through all this, I’m just a spectator and I’m crying all over you. Let me get you back up to Jad’s.”

“Actually, can you drop me back at the hospital?”

“I can’t, Shep. Strict orders. I have to take you back to the Tierneys’.” I can hear what she’s not saying. The last thing she needs is to get chewed out by Jerry or the FBI just because I’m not good at following instructions. She’d quit for sure.

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s head up before it starts coming down harder.”

She checks her mirrors, then pulls back on the empty road. “Gosh, I can't believe it's raining again.”

“Hope they got all the evidence they need,” I say, more to myself, as I look out the window.

“I think they did and Milligan confessed.”

“Why were they grilling me then?” I ask.

“The Feds don't trust us. They always expect us to foul things up, but Jerry was thorough and they took pictures of every square inch this morning. Those should hold up fine in court. If this goes to trial.”

We slowly make our way up toward the Tierneys. I try to look up my road as it forks off the main, but it’s tapped off and blocked by an unmarked sedan and another sheriff's cruiser.

“It shouldn't be more than a day now and you should be able to go home. This rain.” It was pouring now. When we reach the house, the gravel drive is already riddled with trickling streams and forest debris.

“Things will get back to normal around here soon,” I say, trying to reassure Sally.

“And if it doesn't, I heard Margee Fulton is retiring soon. I've always wanted to be a children’s librarian.”

“You’d be great at that,” I say, mustering the bit of a smile I have in reserve. “But don't hang up your badge just yet.”

She thanks me as I climb out of the car.

When I come in the door, Titus is all over me. He doesn't like change. He also loves the rain. I nudge him back to keep him inside. Their bloodhound, Fox, is awake but not so interested in me or why there’s all this commotion in their home.

“There’s food warming in the oven,” May-Bell offers. I’m too hungry to pass her invitation up.

She tries and fails not to laugh at me as I put away two servings of leftover lasagna. “You can finish it off if you want,” she says before she turns back to her book. I remember some sense of manners and leave the last two helpings for Jad.

After I wash my dishes, I can’t sit down. I can’t sit still. There’s too much running around in my head. I keep seeing Claudia’s damaged face, her torn up feet, her hands. The smell of gunpowder is still in my nose. I grab my camera and snap what I can from their back porch, though I don’t think the forest service will use them. I check and I’m right. Another photog’s images are up on my page already. Doesn’t matter. Formatting these images will give me something else to burn in my mind. Something that isn't blood-soaked or bruised.

* * *

I spend the next three days up at the Tierneys’. I don’t sleep for shit. Despite the fact that I saved Claudia from that son of bitch Smith, his body on my property seems to be fucking with everyone for one reason or another. Still, it’s me who sees the hole I blew in his chest every time I close my eyes. I ignore the fact that the only rest I’ve had for nearly half a week has been the few hours of shuteye I got with Claudia in that hospital bed.

The murders make the regional news. My mom leaves me a voicemail asking if I know anything about it, but I don’t respond. Instead I’m reminded to call Evelyn and let her know that the Feds might check in on my whereabouts. She tells Meegan and Marcos what happened and they start blowing up my phone. Everyone at The Club is worried about me, but proud of me too. They’ve been following the news online. I stopped a monster. Milligan and Smith are monsters.

On the third day, May-Bell and I head to town to hit the market. I’ve eaten most of their food and she’s worried cabin fever’s getting the best of me. We take Titus with us. He needs a break too. Everyone I see has kind words and odd congratulations. Apparently Claudia’s added to the myth of my greatness. Some people mention her by name. She feels indebted to me. It’s not true, but there’s no point in arguing. It’ll just draw these conversations out.

When we stop by the diner to grab some pies May-Bell’s ordered from Connie, Tanner and Lightfoot are enjoying a leisurely lunch at the counter when we walk in. Lightfoot greets me with a smile.

“Mr. Olsen,” she says. “Just the man we were looking for.” Everyone’s quiet again, but it’s different this time. They are ready for the suits to beat it. The case is closed as far as we’re all concerned. One died and one’s behind bars. There’s not much left to sort out.

“Come on down here and pay, sweetheart,” Connie says to May-Bell. “How you doing, Shep?”

“Just fine, Connie,” I say before I turn to Lightfoot. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing at all. We’re heading out today. Sheriff Bingham has your truck waiting for you down at the station and you are free to enter your home.”

“Is there going to be a trial?” I ask.

“With this confession and what we were able to collect, I don’t expect there will be. But you never know. Even the red handed turn tail and try to save their own asses,” Lightfoot says with a shrug.

Tanner waves at Connie and asks for the check. She doesn’t acknowledge him, but drops the bill in front of his plate a few moments later anyway. He smirks then pulls out his wallet. “I’ll need a receipt.”

“Sure thing,” she says, tight lipped.

“Thank you for your cooperation. We’ll be in touch if we need anything else.” Tanner collects his change and they leave.

“Do you mind if we drive by the hospital?” I ask May-Bell as we leave the diner. I take the warm pies out of her hands.

“Not at all,” May-Bell says. She drops me off. I tell her I’ll be back up to their place to grab Titus as soon as I get my truck. She tells me there’s no rush. I know we’re welcome in their home for as long as I’d like.

I don’t even make it past the waiting room before Sarah calls out my name. I turn and she’s coming down the hall with a folded piece of paper in her hand.

“Hey.” She’s a little out of breath. “She’s gone. Left a few hours ago, but she left this for you.”

I’m processing as I take the note out her hand. Lightfoot and Tanner knew she was gone. They knew I was gonna beat feet over to see her. Giving me the green light even though they knew she was gone was their last fuck you. I blink and look up at Sarah. She’s looking at the note, then she looks up at me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.

“I’m just wondering what it is about you, but at the same time, I know.”

“We can’t go back, Sarah. You said it yourself. You can’t change for me and I can’t change for you.” It’s heavy talk for a hospital waiting room, but I need my sanity back. All of it.

“I know we can’t, Shep. I’m just worried. As a friend.”

“I’m fine.”

She rolls her eyes, then practically slams her hands on her hips. “I know, Shep. You’re always fine, but I don’t think she is.”

“Say it. All of it.”

“I’m saying that just because you’re well enough to walk out of here doesn’t mean you’re well enough to just pick right up where you left off. I’m just saying that when a patient asks me several times for a pen and paper to write a note to the person who saved her life, and she’s in tears when she hands it to me that she is not fine.”

I don’t say anything because there’s nothing to say. I can’t sleep and no one tried to kill me. Claudia lost a lot that night. Peace of mind is only one of them.

“I don’t know what’s in the note. Like I said, I didn’t read it,” Sarah says.

“But?”

“If she wants you to write back, reply, she needs something.”

I nod. Again, there’s nothing to say.

“I’ll be around if you want to talk.”

“Thanks.”

Sarah touches my hand and then she turns and walks away. I take my time walking back to the station. I don’t want to read the note. Not yet. I find Sally behind the counter. She’s less spooked this time around. She has a smile for me and she has my keys.

My truck is behind the station and it’s all fucked up. Every inch is covered in finger print dust. The doors, the fender, all over the interior, all over the dash. I might as well burn the thing before I try to clean it. I climb behind the wheel and contemplate heading back to the market to find something to clean all this shit up, but I don’t want the attention driving my bright blue piece of evidence through the center of town. The cleaning supplies up at my place will have to do. I climb behind the wheel. I unfold the note.

Shep, Sorry for the chicken scratch. My hand is still screwed up. I just wanted to say thank you. I asked if you were coming back because I wanted to thank you again in person and I wanted to say goodbye in person too, but they were pretty insistent about us not seeing each other until they wrapped up the investigation. I doubt I’ll see you again. Clown or no clowns, I’m never leaving the comfort of the city again.

I thought losing my parents was the worst thing that could happen, but this was much worse. I wouldn’t even be here to write this note if it wasn’t for you. I’m going home. I’m going to pretend work is the perfect distraction until they release my brother’s body and let me lay him to rest.

I keep telling myself there are people to blame for this and I am not one of those people, but I think it might take the rest of my life for that to really sink in. I’ll save that for my grief counselor or therapist. Whoever you talk to after these things happen. I did think of another way this could have been worse. The scenario involves you not being home that night. And also, you could have missed twice. Anyway. Thank you, a hundred thousand times.

Love always, and I mean always. I’m naming a child or a really cute dog after you.

Claudia

P.S. Tanner and Lightfoot are dicks. I hope they didn’t give you too hard of a time.

I scan the piece of paper again. Read it three and four more times. Her number doesn’t magically appear. There isn’t an email address or a website. No breadcrumbs to her cottage in the woods. Or her loft in the city. Sarah is right about a lot of things when it comes to me, but she doesn’t know Claudia Cade. She is a fighter. She doesn’t need me at all. She will be just fine.