Page 6 of Disappearance at Angel’s Landing (Red Rock Murders #2)

Lila Jordan was going to be the death of him.

She was late. But had he expected anything less?

It seemed in the years she’d joined the National Park Service, she’d gone out of her way to rebel against any and all authority, protocol and human decency.

As far as Branch could tell, her erratic monologues and meddling were about holding onto some kind of individuality while conforming to a group for a paycheck.

He imagined she was the child who never followed the rules, managed to bring nothing but chaos within her family and played pranks on her siblings and parents.

But with a smile like the one that haunted his dreams, she probably swayed anyone and everyone into her line of thinking with the promise of a good time and a little spice thrown in.

Hell, even some of their fellow rangers looked at her as though some of her stardust could rub off on them, but no one compared to the enigma that was Ranger Barbie.

There were just some things that couldn’t be learned.

Lila’s daring was one of them. In the end, that daring and outright disobedience would only serve to distance her from any real connections.

Because how could you trust someone who didn’t follow a typical pattern of behavior and made decisions based on their emotions?

But hadn’t he transferred to Zion National Park to find that same distance? Maybe Lila had a point.

The cold seeped through his uniform as he stared out over the Virgin River.

The current this far into the canyon wasn’t as strong as it would be upstream, but it reached depths of well over fifteen feet in some places, and hikers never seemed to have the good sense to follow direction on calm days like this.

The sun was already rising in the east but had yet to reach the canyon floor.

Everything about the view settled that invisible burn of rage he had to keep at bay for the sake of his sanity.

This place—the isolation, the beauty, the work—it all combined to fight against his natural instincts to bring down the world around him.

After all, it was only fair after what the world had done to him.

Two taps registered on his shoulder, and Branch spun to face the threat.

“Morning! Sorry I’m a few minutes late, but I thought we could warm up with coffee. It’s really more for your safety. I’m not a people person until I hit the bottom of the first cup of caffeine.”

Ah. The mask was back in place. This wasn’t the Lila he’d met on the trail to Scout Lookout yesterday. Ranger Barbie had returned. In full force it seemed.

Handing off one of the cups she held, she took a sip from her own.

She’d tied her hair back beneath her Stetson again, accentuating a sharp, feminine jawline.

Thick lashes dusted the tops of her cheekbones, and those almond-shaped blue eyes felt as though could see straight through him.

There was no denying the natural beauty he’d noted last night.

In fact, seeing her in that sleep shirt with an ice cream stain below her chin had probably been one of the most gut-wrenching experiences of his life.

Because for those short minutes, Lila had just been herself.

Effortless and open, if not a little paranoid when it came to serial killers.

“I had to guess on the way you take it. I figured black. Like your soul.”

She wasn’t wrong. Branch took the offering.

The bitterness of the coffee failed to cut through the sweetness rolling off her in waves.

Actually, he wasn’t sure if there was anything that could protect him against the onslaught of Ranger Barbie’s full powers.

He could almost see the sound wall of bubble-gum pink and high-pitched laughter coming straight at him. “Thanks.”

That bright smile that felt a little too forced at times transformed her face from morning zombie to cocaine high.

Damn, the whiplash between her two personalities triggered a painful knot in his neck.

Again, that tendril of curiosity tightened in his chest. It had started yesterday on their hike up Angel’s Landing, convincing him he’d witnessed something he wasn’t supposed to. The real her.

So what made a woman like Lila go out of her way to lie to bosses and coworkers? Surely it didn’t extend to the people in her personal life, so why here at the park?

She hiked her shoulders higher, studying the Grotto with its fifty-foot trees, asphalted paths and worn, wooden picnic tables.

The park itself remained open twenty-four-seven, but the shuttle system to get visitors this far into the park had only just begun for the day.

It would be another fifteen minutes or so before this trail was overrun.

While Sarah Lantos’s death had been determined to be homicide, law enforcement rangers didn’t have the pull to shut down the Angel’s Landing trail.

Their only saving grace would be the lottery system that limited the amount of hikers.

Lila seemed to sense their limited opportunity to get moving without an audience. “So what’s the plan, Stan? I’ve got three days’ worth of supplies and sixteen ounces of caffeine in me. If we don’t start hiking, I might have to climb the side of the Lookout to burn it all off.”

She’d come prepared. Good. Neither of them could risk going into this unprepared, but based on his previous homicide experience, he didn’t expect that the killer had remained in the park, either.

“Whoever stabbed Sarah Lantos either climbed the Lookout to get to his victim or used the rope and anchors up the side as an escape after he killed her.” Branch was already moving across the road as the first shuttle curved along the main transit vein of the park toward the start of the Angel’s Landing trail.

“Don’t forget he also pushed her over the edge.

” Her tone was a bit too enthusiastic for this conversation and time of day.

“I’m betting the former. The anchors and carabiners would’ve already had to have been in place for him to escape without any other hikers seeing him flee, which means he most likely climbed the Lookout and set his route in the days leading up to her murder.

He would’ve had to make camp at the base or use a sleep platform. ”

She was right. Damn it. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “You climb?”

“You don’t?” The barb hit as she no doubt intended.

There were a limited number of climbing rangers throughout the National Park Service.

She obviously enjoyed knowing this was one area she outranked him.

Lila twisted her pack to her front and unzipped the top, showcasing a perfectly coiled rope of blue fiber with yellow and green woven in.

“It’s been years since I’ve free climbed.

We could use the killer’s gear, but I brought my own in case we don’t want to trust another climber’s routine. ”

“If he escaped down Scout Lookout, why bother inspecting his gear and anchor points?” Branch picked up the pace as he hauled himself up the thin rocks layered one on top of the other.

Like melted chocolate. His muscles still protested against yesterday’s ascent while Lila looked as though she could run a marathon straight up the damn mountain.

In reality, there was no best way to get straight to the base of Angel’s Landing from here. They’d have to climb either way.

“A climber’s routine can tell you a lot about a person.

Fitness level, climbing experience, discipline, how often they need to rest. A good majority of free climbers make national parks their Everest. They want to tick as many as possible off the list, sometimes even forgoing the legal route in order to conquer a mountain.

Like Yosemite. It’s illegal to climb certain parks, in which case there might be an arrest record.

We can take all that information and compare it to past permits at the other parks, too, to get an ID on our suspect.

” She attacked the rise in elevation without so much as a change in her breathing, as if Mattel’s CEO was personally waiting for her at the top with a new Barbie.

“I imagine Sarah Lantos’s killer didn’t bother filing for a permit to make the hike, so we’ll have to use other ways to locate a suspect. Don’t you think?”

Okay. He hadn’t thought of that, either. He’d worked a homicide as a law enforcement ranger in Grand Canyon for years before landing in Zion, but the rest frequency and climbing experiences of solo climbers were beyond his scope. “You were a climbing ranger.”

Though not here in Zion. She had to have worked for one of the other parks. Joshua Tree. Arches. Maybe Red Rock. Except then why would Risner keep her as an entry-level ranger if she had that kind of experience?

“No. Climbing for me was a form of therapy. You know, the kind of therapy that shuts off your brain because you have to focus on not dying, and you don’t have to give up your secrets to a stranger. Way better than that psychotherapy crap, in my opinion.”

“Can’t say I don’t disagree.” Despite his insistence on attending marriage counseling and family therapy in the months leading up to the end of his marriage, Branch had realized too late he and his ex-wife had passed the stage of help.

There’d been nothing left to save. “What else do you use as therapy?”

What the hell did he care? It wasn’t like they were partners. They were barely more than acquaintances. Professionals. Nothing more. And yet, he’d somehow deemed it necessary to surprise her at her house in the middle of the night to inform her of her ongoing involvement in this case.

“Lots of things.” She easily kept pace ahead of him by a few feet. “Yoga, playing violin, ice-skating lessons. Oh, I ran a marathon a couple years ago, but I wouldn’t do it again.”

“And now?” Branch wanted to punch himself in the face.

He’d spent the past four months keeping his distance and setting the parameters of their working relationship.

But since witnessing her slip yesterday on this very trail, the harder he tried to gain back that coldness, the faster it trickled through his fingers.

The need to figure out the puzzle she presented called to him on a primal level, and it seemed there was nothing he could do about it until he got his answer.

That was all this was: a puzzle he wanted to solve.

They were moving into the switchbacks, making great time, but there was still a matter of four hours between their position and the end of the trail.

“Now I’m kind of lost.” Her voice had dropped, away from the pitch only canines could hear. It’d only been hours since he’d left her in that run-down house the government deemed safe, and he was already craving another glimpse of the woman Ranger Barbie tried to suffocate. “And I’m tired.”

Living two separate lives birthed an exhaustion that had the tendency to sink bone-deep and refuse to let up until enough time without pressure passed.

He’d felt it while pretending his marriage still had a chance.

Showing the world one person—a man happily married and in love with his wife—as reality sucked the life from him.

He wasn’t sure how long Lila had been trying to hold it together, but it’d only taken a few months before he succumbed to the crushing fatigue. Life sure as hell hadn’t asked his permission before it decided to blow up in his face, and now he was stuck.

Just like Lila.