by Tara Meyers
When Ember nodded, the ranger continued. “We’d gone with a different agency originally, before starting the project out here. One of the things they’re supposed to do is to survey the land. Because, of course, aside from preservation, the whole point behind cutting the trees is profit. If it’s going to cost more to get to the trees than what we’ll make from selling them, there’s no point to it. We’d gotten a couple of miles of logging road laid in, set all the initial equipment up, and started on the first cut, when the guys encountered some unexpected terrain. In less than two weeks, they couldn’t go any further, so we were forced to hire another forest engineer to reevaluate everything. It was a big mess.”
“Wouldn’t the original company that said it was okay be responsible?” Ember asked.
“That’s another story altogether,” Nathan interrupted, and it was clear it wasn’t one to be shared with the public.
“Kurt came highly recommended,” Shane continued, ignoring her question. “He spent a week out here, but in the end, he surmised that the project should have never been approved, so the cut was abandoned. I think the logging road is a few miles to the east of here.”
“Unfortunately, suicide in the parks isn’t that uncommon. Maybe this place resonated with him, and that’s why he came back,” Nathan suggested.
“This looks like a well-established camp,” Ember pointed out.
Sheriff Walker looked at the items Ember had already noticed, and his eyebrows rose. “She’s right,” he confirmed. “It had to have taken a while to haul all this stuff up here. Especially that tent. It’s not the sort of thing a backpacker drags around.”
“Dispersed camping is allowed in most of this area,” Nathan explained, waving an arm in a broad arc. “But I would have to agree that this is pushing the boundaries for what’s normally acceptable. He must have originally set this up back when he was hired and then kept coming back. Why, we might never find out. Do you know if he had any family?” he asked, turning back to Shane.
Ember straightened at the question.
“Nah,” Shane replied, shaking his head. “First night he was here, a couple of the guys and I took him for some beers at the Rusty Wagon Wheel. Went over the maps we’d put together. He made the comment he was a ‘free agent’ when it came to the amount of time he had to spend in the field, so we didn’t need to worry about his level of commitment. It was also his own business, so he was really invested in his work. Of course, that was going on over two years ago. That could have changed.”
Encouraged by the news, Ember’s thoughts turned to what would happen next. “Who has jurisdiction?” she asked no one in particular.
Walker and Nathan exchanged a look. “I do,” Nathan said. “But it’s pretty typical for the National Parks Service to collaborate with local law enforcement and other agencies, such as SAR. Unless this was a suspected murder scene, and then it would be handed off to a special federal crime task force.”
“You mean the FBI?” Ember guessed.
“Depends,” Nathan replied, grinning at her surprised tone. “Seattle would be the closest office, so they’d likely have a few options. But I don’t think it’s going to be an issue. Barring a conflicting report from the coroner in Thomas County, I imagine this will be ruled a suicide and closed.”
Nodding in agreement, Walker started arranging his pack, obviously eager to get going. “If you want to take a last look, Nathan, I think I’ve collected all the pertinent items.”
Nathan glanced up at the sun beginning its descent into the western half of the sky and then checked his watch. “Right. We’ll want to start our way back pretty soon, or else we may end up in the dark. I’ll make one more sweep of the tent. I don’t think there’s much out here worth hauling back. It can wait until spring.”
As Nathan turned and strode back toward the shelter, Ember made an impulsive decision and hurried after him. “Mind if I tag along?”
Pausing, he looked at her in surprise.
“I promise not to touch anything,” she said sweetly, batting her lashes.
Snorting, Nathan narrowed his dark eyes at her. “If I didn’t know any better, Dr. Burns, I’d say you underestimate yourself.”
Taken back, Ember cocked her head questioningly at him, forgetting her typical shyness while in his presence. “What are you talking about?”
“I imagine that if I asked why you want to look inside the tent of a dead man, you’ll answer that it’s just out of curiosity. But it’s suspiciously consistent with the actions of—say—a potential coroner.”
Blushing at being called out on her pretense, Ember wasn’t sure if he was scolding her or complimenting her. But they’d been friends long enough for her to understand where his heart was, so she swallowed her pride and reacted with a smile. “You know me too well, Officer. So, are you going to let me continue denying my calling and satisfy that curiosity?” Green eyes flashing, she took a small step closer. “I need to see where Daenerys came from,” she added quietly.
After holding her gaze for a moment longer than necessary, Nathan turned back to the entrance and motioned for Ember to follow. “I know I don’t need to remind you, but please don’t touch anything.”
Straining to see him as her eyes adjusted to the dark interior, Ember just nodded in response. Shadowy forms came into focus. A sleeping bag in the far corner to her right and a backpack in the one nearest her. A small cooler with various items arranged on top of it, like it had been used as a table. A flashlight hanging haphazardly from the center that was sagging almost to the ground. She couldn’t see what was in the opposite corner to her left because that was the collapsed section, but the stains on the floor implied that it was where his body had lain for nearly four months. She was trying very hard to ignore the odd, musky smell that lingered.
Nathan hefted the backpack to his shoulder and then shined a flashlight over the cooler, revealing a cup, pens, and a blank pad of paper. “That’s where the wallet and cell phone were,” he explained. “There are clean dishes and some other odds and ends inside.”
A pair of hiking boots sat on the floor near where Ember stood crouched over to avoid the low ceiling. She had to stop herself from picking up a sweatshirt balled up next to them. “Did you check the pockets on that already?” she asked Nathan, pointing at the clothing.
Huffing in approval, Nathan reached for the pullover and gave it a shake. A dog biscuit fell out, landing on top of a dog collar and leash that had been coiled up under it.
“Why would he take her collar off?” Ember asked, wanting nothing more than to check the tag to see what name was etched on it.
Shrugging, Nathan finished by patting the pocket to make sure it was empty before picking up the collar and dropping the garment. “Who knows? The guy obviously wasn’t in his right mind. Maybe his intent was for her to be ‘free.’ Wanna know her name?”
Nathan was holding the tag, looking at her expectantly. A wave of unexplainable apprehension washed over Ember, nearly taking her breath away. It must have shown on her face because Nathan’s expression changed to concern, and he started to reach for her as she ran from the tent.
Outside, she retreated to the tree with the clothesline tied to it and, leaning against it, took ragged gasps of cool, blessedly fresh-smelling air.
“Ember, you okay?” Nathan wrapped an arm protectively around her shoulders.
“Told you I wasn’t cut out for it.” Ember laughed half-heartedly. “If there was any doubt left about me running for coroner, I think this settles it.”
“I’m actually a little relieved to see you have a normal reaction. I was beginning to think of you as invincible.”
Blushing again, Ember tried to pull herself together. Nathan was referring to an escalating series of events from earlier that summer. She’d been made out as a bit of a hero, but Ember didn’t see it that way. Trying to distract herself, she focused on the other end of the clothesline and the tree it was tied to. There was something odd about it. Reaching out,
she grasped the rope.
“Nathan,” she said slowly.
“Uh-oh,” he answered. “I recognize that tone.”
Grateful with how quickly he was able to put her at ease, Ember turned to look at him, the dog tag forgotten for the moment. “Did you find any garbage or food storage containers in the tent?”
When Nathan didn’t answer right away, Ember gave the rope a tug.
Looking at it, he hung his head momentarily. “Of course,” he said, chagrined. “Food caches. He would have known to take that precaution out here.” Following the rope to the other tree, he stood below and looked up.
“They’re in that one,” Ember said, pointing at a knotty pine another ten feet away. The green nylon cord was tied off about fifteen feet above the ground, with two black bags hanging from it.
After freeing the extra line that was looped around a branch on the cedar next to Nathan, he implemented the pulley system and lowered the bags to the ground.
“Good find,” Sheriff Walker called out, marching over to join them.
“Thank Ember,” Nathan corrected.
“Let’s see what we have here.” Walker was already dumping the contents on the ground, in an obvious hurry. The group could almost feel the daylight speeding by.
“Pretty boring selection of goods,” Shane stated as he approached. He kicked at an empty freeze-dried dinner packet before finally putting on a pair of gloves to line up the rest of the garbage.
“Three dinners, two lunches, and two breakfasts, with a couple of granola bar wrappers,” Nathan observed. “Must have gotten here in the afternoon, two days prior to his death.”
Ember looked at the rest of the trash. Other than six crumpled plastic water bottles, there were five empty cans of dog food and a nine-volt battery with a bright yellow Z logo. Turning her attention to the food bag, she was struck by the number of rations in it. “He had enough left for two more days,” she said aloud.
“So?” Shane asked, clearly annoyed. “Who cares? Let’s pack this stuff back up and get out of here.”
“You’re missing the point.” Ember gestured toward a spaghetti dinner and several full cans of Alpo. “If he came out here with the intent to kill himself, then why did he bring all this food?”
FIVE
“I don’t care what anyone says. I think Daenerys knew exactly what she was doing. She wanted him to be found.”
Michelle Johns sat with her short legs tucked under her on the overstuffed leather couch. She was wearing a gray sweatshirt with the words “I heart Vulcans” across it, a steaming cup of strong coffee gripped in her hands. Her shoulder-length, straight black hair was pulled back into a pony, making her appear younger than her twenty-five years.
“I agree!” Ember replied, her green eyes flashing in the firelight. The large river-rock hearth held a huge fire, but Ember still felt chilled.
The trek down the mountain had been long and arduous, made more cumbersome by the items they all packed out. It took two SAR members to carry the body, and Heather was left to haul the gear the two men originally carried up. Margaret couldn’t really take anything extra because she had to be free to lead the dog. That left Walker, Ember, Nathan, and Shane. They managed to get Kurt Donaldson’s backpack, the cooler, the few items of evidence, and the cache bags that held the food and garbage. There’d been a brief debate about attempting to dismantle the tent and at least pile everything up, but it was decided that since they were already short on daylight, there wasn’t any benefit to it. The rest of it was pretty much junk and could wait.
Ember was surprised at how relieved she felt once the body was loaded into the waiting truck. Then the fatigue hit her, as much from stress as physical exertion, and she could have almost cried when she walked inside and found the fire already built by Becky. It was getting dark by the time they got back, and she’d piled all her layers back on but was still cold.
Her Aunt Becky made a brief fuss over her before leaving to rescue her children from their father’s cooking. Although, Ember had eaten meals prepared by both, and she couldn’t honestly say that Becky was any better.
Now, with her skin growing pink from the heat, a blanket wrapped around her, and Daenerys snuggled up to her side, she wasn’t sure if it was lingering cold or fear that was chilling her. Resting one hand on the labradoodle’s curls, she reached for her coffee with the other.
“What if I lose her, Mel?” Speaking the words out loud didn’t make Ember feel any better.
“Daenerys isn’t going anywhere,” Mel said with conviction. “I don’t care who might come after her. She belongs here with you now!”
Ember smiled at her friend. The only thing small about Mel was her stature. Having grown up in the neighboring town of Refuge, the spunky woman completed a veterinary assistance program while working for the previous animal practice. When Ember purchased the clinic, she was happy to hire Mel based solely on her Aunt Becky’s recommendation. But after meeting her, it was an easy decision, and they fast became close friends. In addition to sharing a love for animals, they were both huge sci-fi fans.
“How long do you think it’ll be before you hear anything?” Mel asked with a little less passion.
“Before he left, Nathan said they’ll take the body straight to the coroner’s office in Great Pines.” Great Pines was a larger city in the neighboring Thomas County, to the north. “But, even with the wallet and license, I guess there’s a process involved in making a positive ID. He said something about getting warrants for the cell phone and dental records, but they should know more by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Why wait?”
Ember looked at her friend, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you know his name and where he lived, right?” Mel widened her eyes and then gestured to Ember’s laptop sitting closed on the end table.
Ember was reaching for it before even answering. That she hadn’t already tried to look the man up was a testament to how tired she was. Tapping out his name and hometown, she was rewarded with several possible starting points. Opting for the first site listed, she clicked on what looked like a business page.
“Donaldson Engineering,” Ember read aloud. “Providing all of your forestry management needs.” Kurt Donaldson was listed as the owner, and his credentials were impressive. “Mr. Donaldson has over ten years of survey and forestry experience, including degrees for Forest Engineer, Civil Engineer, Geology, and Business Management.”
“He sounds very accomplished,” Mel replied. “Are there any other employees listed?”
Shaking her head, Ember clicked on a few internal pages and quickly surmised that it hadn’t been updated since before he disappeared. “The last post on here was a picture from a job site in Wyoming, dated May 18th.”
Going back to the original search returns, Ember then selected Facebook. She scrolled through the first two offered pictures but froze when she saw the third profile image.
Her stomach in her throat, Ember clicked on the same picture used as Kurt Donaldson’s screensaver. The information on his page was limited and obviously set so only friends could see the majority of it. The most recent post was from two months ago on August 20th. It was a flyer shared by an older man with the same last name. On it was the same picture of Kurt and Daenerys, along with his physical description, last known whereabouts, and a plea for someone to come forward with information.
Kurt Donaldson, age 35, 6’1”, 200lbs, black hair, brown eyes. Last seen at his home in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho on June 2nd, 2018. Please call with any information. We are desperate to locate our son!
Ember began reading through the comments below the picture. There were only five: three condolences, one asking what had happened, and another was a linked article about a house fire and the words, “What the??!!!” Ember clicked on the article.
It was a paper local to the Idaho town and dated June 7th, 2018. The headline read: Suspicious Early Morning Fire, Resident Missing. Skimming over the brief report, Em
ber couldn’t help but gasp.
“Oh my gosh.”
“What is it?” Mel asked, already moving to Ember’s side. Looking at the screen, she came to a quick conclusion. “Was that his house?”
“Yes,” Ember answered slowly. “And it burned down ‘under suspicious circumstances’ on the morning of June 7th, two days before Daenerys was found.”
SIX
“Mrs. Cooper just left with her cat.” Mel greeted Ember with a steaming cup of her infamous coffee and a crooked grin. “While she was thrilled that Garfield is doing better, she wasn’t all that happy with the bill.”
Ember dropped her leather bag on the front counter so she could take the offered mug. “Sorry, Mel. I should have been here to deal with her, but I just had to give Daenerys one more bath. She still stank!”
Daenerys was happily running around the front lobby of the Sanctuary Veterinary Clinic, sniffing out the new smells that had collected during her three-day hiatus. The quaint building was a stand-alone in a row of historic shops lining Main Street. It was situated on a desirable corner location, across from the town’s only coffeehouse, Nature’s Brew, where Mel rented her basement apartment and worked on the weekends.
Ember and Mel had given the old veterinary practice a much-needed makeover before reopening it under the new name and owner. One feature Ember was especially proud of was the newly created animal supply store at one end of the amply spaced lobby. Previously filled with unused chairs and file cabinets, it now housed several well-stocked racks of outdoor pet gear, leashes, toys, and health products. Daenerys discovered a freshly unpacked tower of dog beds and promptly went about dismantling it.
“Daenerys!” Mel scolded half-heartedly while laughing.
Daenerys paused long enough to look up, tongue lolling and a dog bed balanced on top of her head. Barking once, she raced past the two women and down the central hallway as the bed landed at Ember’s feet.