Page 9 of Disappearance at Angel’s Landing (Red Rock Murders #2)

There wasn’t much left of the campsite. At least nothing that they could use to identify Sarah Lantos’s killer.

Why had she and Branch been given that responsibility again?

They couldn’t be the only ones brought into the search.

Zion National Park stretched over two hundred and thirty-two square miles.

It would take weeks, if not months, to cover that much ground, and even if they got lucky and found a clue as to where the killer had gone, they were at risk out here in the open.

Exposure, rock falls, flash floods… So many ways a national park could kill a person.

Which meant they were most likely one of several teams involved in the search.

Lila scanned the campsite for something—anything—to give them a direction.

This valley branched into several other canyons, each leading in a different direction.

While she had her theories as to where a sane person might go from here, it relied solely on whether the killer had done his research of the area, had come prepared or wasn’t completely out of his damn mind.

Could anyone who’d taken a person’s life be considered in a healthy mental state? She couldn’t answer that.

The boot treads left behind weren’t anything she’d come across before.

Patternless. Brandless. Useless. There was no way to prove this campsite belonged to the killer without a Hey, it’s me.

I murdered that woman sign, but what were the chances they had stumbled across a random site after descending Angel’s Landing?

“Based on the distance between the cliff and this campsite, I’d say we’re on the right trail.

He was here. Probably within the past couple of hours. ”

The weight of Branch’s attention slid down her spine. He’d been watching her for a few minutes, whether he realized it or not. Any move she made seemed to intensify his presence, but she wasn’t going to let him get to her again.

“Why wait?” Two words. That was enough.

She could practically feel the vibration of his voice across the empty space between them, as though he was standing within mere inches, which was nuts.

Her mouth dried at the thought of all the other things he could say to her with that deep tone.

Things he might whisper in the dark, tangled in her sheets with her secured against his unyielding chest.

Nope. Not happening. He’d made that perfectly clear. He didn’t get close to people for a reason, and after he’d told her about his horrible experience with his ex, she didn’t blame him. How did a person come back from something like that? From that kind of betrayal?

Blood drained from her face. Wait. What was his question again? “What do you mean?”

“The window of when Sarah Lantos died is between ten and two yesterday afternoon.” Branch kicked at the ring of rocks that reigned in the embers still smoldering.

“If this site belongs to the killer, why wait until this morning to flee? Why not get as far from the crime scene as possible while he could?”

Lila circled the campsite for the—she didn’t know how many times—and followed the streaks carved into the dirt.

Trying to cover his tracks? No. That didn’t feel right.

Not with the lack of treads in the killer’s boots.

Attempting to erase his presence would be redundant, and leaving a sandwich bag voided all that hard work.

But Branch had a point. Why stay here when rangers and the medical examiner’s office would be all over the scene literally less than a half mile away?

This clearing acted as a starting point that split into multiple escape routes through the valleys and backcountry trails.

Maybe he hadn’t meant to stay as long as he had.

Crouching beside one of the divots, she caught the pattern. Not with the treads but in the steps themselves. “Because he was injured.”

Branch entered her peripheral vision, the scent she’d always attributed to him—cedar and something clean—driving into her system.

“See?” Guiding her finger over the nearest streak without disrupting the dirt, Lila ended at the empty boot print to the left. Then another streak, complete with a second boot print. Again to the left. Then a third.

“He wasn’t trying to erase his tracks. His right leg is dragging behind his left.

” Branch took position beside her, only inches between them.

One shift in her weight, and she’d get everything she’d craved in the past few months.

It was as close as he’d ever voluntarily gotten, but Lila had to remind herself there was nothing personal about his proximity.

He was simply trying to get a closer look at what she saw.

“Would he have been able to scale Angel’s Landing with an injury like this? ”

“Depends on how old it is.” That woodsy scent filled her, warmed her from the inside, and she breathed it in a bit deeper.

If this was all she could have of Branch Thompson, she’d die a happy woman.

Ugh, that sounded pathetic. Months of this crush must’ve warped her brain.

“If it’s a disability, he may have learned to compensate on his climbs over years of conditioning and training, but if it’s recent, I don’t see how. ”

“So it’s possible Sarah Lantos could’ve fought back and injured her attacker.

” Why did Branch sound hopeful about that possibility?

Like he wanted the killer to suffer for what he’d done?

Deep lines etched between his brows as Branch seemed to memorize the tracks in front of them, and she wanted nothing more in that moment than to smooth them away. To offer him some kind of comfort.

He’d probably bite her hand off if she tried.

“Yeah. I guess it’s possible.” The breeze kicked up, cooling the sweat at her temples and increasing the intensity of cedar.

Lila forced herself to stand, to get some distance on the pretense of searching the campsite for evidence when all she really wanted to do was clear her head of Branch.

“Problem is we don’t really know anything about her.

Whether she was armed or capable of hurting him. ”

All they had was the driver’s license attached to the permit Sarah Lantos had applied for to hike Angel’s Landing.

The license itself had been issued by the state of Washington and listed the woman’s birthday and address, but that didn’t mean that was where the victim had called home.

The law enforcement division would take that information and run with it, but it didn’t tell Lila if Sarah was married, if she had children, what she enjoyed in her down time or what kind of books she liked to read.

She’d been a donor, but Lila couldn’t imagine any of her organs helping someone else after a six-thousand-foot drop.

As of right now, Sarah Lantos was only a body.

A piece of a puzzle they had yet to figure out, and maybe that was what had sent Lila into two pints of Cherry Garcia last night after Risner dismissed her from the case.

Everyone needed someone on their side.

“How do you do it?” Branch kept his attention on the revealed pattern in the dirt. “See things the other rangers don’t.”

“Not sure what you mean, Grizzly Bear.” Ice threaded through Lila’s veins as she backed away from the treads.

Not once in the four months, three weeks and two days Branch Thompson had set foot in Zion National Park had he ever asked her a personal question, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it now.

Branch straightened to his full height. That startling difference between them was enough to make her question every single daydream and fantasy she’d ever had. Not just physically. Mentally, emotionally.

Every move he made was calculated beforehand where she jumped at any opportunity that distracted her from the incessant thoughts in her head.

He set out to push everyone away—to punish them or himself, she didn’t know—when all she wanted was connection.

Someone who surprised her with her favorite soda or brought her a cookie because they’d been thinking about her.

Someone she could talk to, really talk to, without having to rely on death threats and sarcasm.

Someone who knew all the bad but loved her anyway.

In what world would a man like Branch choose to be with her?

“I worked homicides in Grand Canyon as a law enforcement ranger before coming to Zion. A lot of suicides, too.” He stared out over the campsite.

“It was an accident, really. Something I kind of fell into after the divorce four years ago. I didn’t really know what to do with myself.

I couldn’t stay in the house we’d shared, couldn’t see myself going back to work at a job she’d pushed me into for the income.

Telling me it would be good for our family. ”

Every cell in Lila’s body went still, as if one wrong move would break the spell of him opening up.

Branch scrubbed a hand down his face. “After I signed the papers, I found myself on the road, going from one park to the other, trying to figure out what came next. But standing in the middle of the most beautiful places on the planet, I felt… I just felt. For the first time in months, the anger, the hurt, the betrayal—none of it could get to me.”

The half-hearted laugh that escaped his throat shocked her straight to the core. She’d never heard a more freeing sound and set a goal right then and there to make him laugh as much as possible. Just for the effect it had on releasing the tightness in her chest.

“I’d only been on the road a couple weeks, but I walked straight up to a ranger in Acadia National Park and asked how I could do his job.

Within three months, I’d graduated the law enforcement training program, got my EMT certification, had a job with NPS and was assigned to work at the Grand Canyon.

” Turning, Branch set all that intensity on Lila, his expression unreadable but not as hard as she’d come to expect.

“In my program, they taught you patrol procedures, enforcement operations, over a hundred hours of legal and behavioral science and firearms. Everything you need to protect people in the park, but even with all that training, NPS can’t teach anyone how to pick up on the changes in your environment like you do.

That comes from years of being stuck in survival mode. Of being afraid.”

Her throat threatened to close in on itself, and the mask she’d become so accustomed to wearing slipped. Leaving her as exposed as a raw nerve. She couldn’t seem to force her brain to catch up, the shock holding her hostage.

“Who made you afraid, Lila?” His question didn’t come with a lick of expectation or forcefulness but threatened to crack her open all the same.

“I’m not sure there’s anything else we can get from this campsite, but if the killer’s injury is fresh, we could catch up. He couldn’t have got too much farther ahead in the past couple of hours.” A tremor shook her hands, and she fisted her fingers to regain just a sliver of control.

Problem was, Branch always seemed to barrel through her ability to keep her head on straight. Lila headed for the man-size space between two bushes, the most logical path the killer had taken into the valley below. As long as she kept moving, she had a chance.

“And I know what you’re thinking. It’s presumptuous to assume the killer we’re chasing identifies as male, but up to seventy percent of female homicide victims are killed by a male attacker, most of those by someone they knew before their deaths.”

“Lila.” Branch had no problem staying on her heels.

A rumble filtered through the panic clawing into her chest. Like thunder. Though there weren’t many clouds in the sky. Keep moving. She just had to keep moving, and everything would be okay. And talking. And—

The rumble boiled into a full-blown roar, and she slowed.

“Lila!” Hard muscle slammed into her back.

Her feet left the ground. Strong arms locked around her chest and hauled her closer to the mountain wall. Pain ignited down her side at the impact. “Branch—”

A shadow blocked out the sun, and a boulder exploded mere feet from her. Right where she’d been standing.