- Hard Fall (7 page)

57

Hard Fall

by James Buchanan

"Wanna come down and give me a hand?" I pocketed my camera as I yelled.

He glanced over his shoulder and grunted, "No, not really, but I will."

I pulled a set of surgical gloves out of another of the many pockets on my pack, removed my climbing gloves, and snapped the vinyl onto my hands. I wouldn't be adjusting my ropes until I took 'em off. Modern health precautions and climbing didn't partner up too well. I took that bit of time to look close at the body. I'd done the big scene picture, now I need to know the small details her death could tell me.

Rigor hardened Anya's face and the small muscles of her hands. I reached out and took a hold of one arm. Not easy by a long shot, but I could move the arm out. Six or so hours maybe since death, I estimated by the stiffness in her joints.

'Course I wasn't a doctor, much less a coroner; I'd just been on enough body pulls to have an idea.

Her position bugged me. Anya looked like a rag doll, not uncommon in a fall. I guess where she landed messed with my mind. Wasn't a straight drop. Looking up over what must have been her path, scree fell, some, what I guess might be blood here and there, but no rakes down the side of the hill.

Then I turned back to the arm I still held. I studied the hand: pretty pristine ... at least for someone who'd been out camping. Others I'd recovered, they'd ripped their fingers to the bone to stay latched on to the rock trying not to fall. 'Less she'd gone off backwards, which could have happened walking backwards and stepping off, there weren't any signs I could see of someone trying not to fall.

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Hard Fall

by James Buchanan

And that just didn't seem natural at all.

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59

Hard Fall

by James Buchanan

Somehow Kabe and I managed to slide Anya into the white cocoon of a disposable body bag and not become casualties ourselves. Then the orange and black bundle of the Reeves Sleeve wrapped her corpse onto the frame of the backboard.

Likely, we'd lost some trace evidence, but that couldn't be helped much. Once we tied her off and slid her over the edge where she dangled like a modern day cliff mummy, I collected the odd bits off the shelf. Anything that might possibly be useful or lead to something useful or just seemed darn strange, I gathered into little baggies. Those I stuffed in the pocket of the Reeves where the hoist cables normally went.

Hauling Anya's body up the wall was a grueling round of climb, set anchors, clip in and pull Anya with the pulleys. And while the system kept the force of her weight from being as heavy as it really was, shoving my fingers in a crack to hold two on the face while I crammed a cam didn't make for easy.

My rest came in short breaks while I waited for Kabe to come up so we could do it again. The sun pounded my back, even at this elevation. Sweat poured down my skin and pooled in the areas where my harness held my clothes to my body.

Sticky, sweaty and dirty made up my life for a few hours.

Once we brought Anya out, Nadia went off to corral another set of hands while I switched boots and shouldered back into my uniform shirt. Every second I moved I felt Kabe's eyes on me. Well, I reasoned, it was either look at me or Anya ... and she weren't exactly lively. He chose a fallen 60

Hard Fall

by James Buchanan

log, just at the edge of my sight line, to rest his back against.

If I paid attention—how could I not pay attention to Kabe—I could catch him out of the corner of my eye, sitting there, staring at me. I drew out the dressing, knowing I'm s'posed to be all Mormon modest, knowing I'm not s'posed to like guys and not really caring about either right then.

Kabe clambered to his feet, in that stiff-sore manner of somebody who's pushed their muscles a tad more than he should have. He grabbed my hat where I'd left it hooked on a branch and made a big show of dusting it off as he walked over. The way he played with my Stetson, blowing dust off the brim, there was no question in my mind he used it as a stand in for certain parts of my body. And I knew that slight sway ... not feminine by no count, but enough to say
I got it
and I know you want it.
Without saying nothing, Kabe held out my hat and kept hold of it when I latched on. His forest-colored eyes, all browns and greens and golds, drifted slowly from my hand up my arm to lock on my own. He held the look a mite and then a slow grin, all full of promises, turned up the corners of his full lips. Oh Lord, I was being hunted and I wanted to be caught. Just the two of us alone on the mountain. It might have been almost ideal, a touch romantic if I were the sentimental sort, 'cept for the body lying a few feet away.

And I guess, 'cause I didn't let go or do nothing but stare back and chew my bottom lip, that then he really knew.

Maybe not all of it, but enough to figure I could be willing. Off in the tree line I heard the crashing and cursing of Ramon and then Nadia's voice answering him. I didn't look though. I 61

Hard Fall

by James Buchanan

was all wrapped up in Kabe. He had to know he had me then.

His grin spread wider and he slowly took his fingers off the brim. By the time the others broke into sight of us, we were just two guys standing, maybe just having finished a jaw.

Kabe pulling out his water bottle and me settling my hat on my head. 'Cept if you looked close. I'd sprouted enough wood to put a ponderosa pine to shame.

Nobody talked much beyond what we needed to get done what we had to. Even Ramon stopped his whining. Nadia left Fred to watch Gunter and help him break down his camp and told them to meet us at the vehicles. A little bit of arranging, Kabe and I with the heavy load at the head, the four of us packed Anya out to the truck. Body hauls were as somber as funerals. I felt like making conversation somehow disrespected the dead. Still, life goes on, and every other minute either I or Kabe stole a glance at each other. Don't know if anyone else noted, but I felt it on my skin each and every time.

Fred caught sight of us before I did him ... could tell by the, "Need a hand?" He yelled out.

"That's mighty nice of you," I teased, finding him through a break in the trees, "since you only got the one to offer."

He bounded up the trail to meet us. "Payback, Joe, payback," was all he got out. Then the weight of what we carried settled onto him and he fell quiet.

Most all the gear and the bikes had already been loaded into the back of the NPS pickup. We shoved stuff to the side, making room to lay the body down. Gunter sat in the cab of the truck, staring straight ahead. He kept glancing at his 62

Hard Fall

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watch and picking at the window frame of the passenger door. Never once offered to help or nothing. And all of that seemed a mite strange to me.

Nadia and Fred sandwiched Gunter between them for the ride out. I let Kabe take shotgun in Ramon's truck so I could more or less stretch out in the back seat. I remembered about the first mile and a half before exhaustion folded me into a restless blanket of sleep. The last thing I recollect seeing before my eyes drifted shut was Kabe's self-satisfied little smile.

A fist pounding my ankle brought me out of my comatose state. I blinked and Nadia, leaning through the open door of Ramon's four-wheel drive, came into focus. "Hey, Sugar," she drawled, "we're going to split up now. Fred and I will meet the ambulance at the ranger station in Bryce, they're going to take the body to the hospital in Panguitch. Noreen of your office called 'em up for us. We'll transfer the body into the care of the coroner's office there. Ramon's going to take Gunter back to their original campsite. We've told him to stick around for a while. He's camped in NPS territory so I'm going to have my guys keep an eye on him for y'all. Start passing my favors around early."

"Okay," I managed to mumble through a yawn. "I'll ring you tomorrow and we can compare notes of what we got."

Dirty and disheveled I clambered out of the back seat. Nadia moved so I could get by, then slammed the door. "Where's my gear?"

"I stashed it on the Harding's porch." A jerk of her chin indicated the ranch house.

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Hard Fall

by James Buchanan

"Good." I rolled my shoulders to ease out the stiffness as I walked toward the truck. "Let me get the evidence bags out from where I chucked 'em. Then y'all can go."

Nadia fell into step beside me. "Keep me in the loop, if you would?" She grinned. "Well the death itself ain't my jurisdiction, but I'm interested. If you need any help with anything let me know. A little interagency cooperation never hurt anyone."

"Thanks." I leaned over the back gate and pulled the baggies of miscellaneous possible evidence from the pocket of the sleeve. "You ever need anything, just call and ask for Deputy Joe. More than happy to help. Law enforcement's thin as hairs on a bald man's head 'round here, so I don't mind helping out with someone else's party, neither."

What I wanted to do with the rest of my day was head for a hot shower and clean pair of socks. Instead, I knew I needed to sort my rack. If I waited, then I might put it off too long, and before you know it I'd be out on a call with a sack full of tangled rope and rusted carabiners ... or my climbing clothes sitting on a pile of laundry at the house instead of being in my pack. I was still kicking myself for that one.

Kabe'd already settled himself on the porch. Late afternoon sun filtered almost golden through the thin mountain air. As I helped everyone get Gunter's gear transferred to Ramon's SUV, I kept my eye on Kabe. Not 'cause of anything suspicious. Naw, I just wanted to watch him. Meticulous, focused, Kabe sorted ropes and hardware into two piles ... his and mine. Things had gotten a little mixed together with the way we'd ascended.

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Hard Fall

by James Buchanan

Long fingers nimbly worked over the ropes, drawing out tangles and easing kinks as he went, and I was thankful for that. Less work for me to re-rack everything. The sun warmed his skin to a deep, caramel hue and the tip of a deep red tongue rested just at the edge of his full bottom lip. Every so often, Kabe'd absently run his hand over his scalp, mussing the short dark waves of hair. It made me want to drag my own fingers through the mess.

"Joe," Fred's voice caught me and I realized I'd just been standing at the side of the truck staring at Kabe like an open-mouthed fool. A rock steady and friendly grip caught my arm.

"Be careful."

I snorted to break the tension, "I'm always careful. It's my middle name, Joseph Careful Peterson."

"I thought it was Price." He flicked the back of my Stetson with his other hand. "You know what I mean though. You watch your step."

For a minute we locked eyes. He worried about me, I could see it. If he worried, I should too, and I couldn't bring myself to. I guess my dick had the reins. "Okay, Fred," I blew out my breath and pushed my hat back. "I'll do that." It was the only bit of reassurance I could offer. Weren't quite a lie ... just came darn close.

After I watched them all drive off, I turned back to the porch. Kabe sat there, hands dangling between his knees and staring hard. When he saw me looking, that
I got you
look slid across his face. "So, not heading out with the rest of the gang?"

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Hard Fall

by James Buchanan

There's being hunted and there's being played; up for one but not the other. Figured I needed to put that distinction to rest. "My gear needs sorting, too," I growled out as I ambled over. "And, I need some time to think over things."

He used his foot to push my pack over. "Like what?"

"Like why things aren't sitting right about Gunter's story for me."

"Maybe 'cause you're a suspicious son-of-a-bitch? I mean, you're a straight arrow cop," a lot of emphasis got thrown on the
straight
part of that sentence. "Everyone's got something to hide. All those hidden, dark spots inside that they don't talk about. Desires no one wants to admit. Skeletons hiding in every closet." If that whole thing didn't come out of his mouth loaded with twenty types of meaning, I'd eat my hat.

If I rose to that bait, I'd be dead. Best to play it off and pretend I didn't know what he meant by it all. "Always suspicious, that's why I'm good at what I do." I dropped down on the stair below his, my butt on the tread, my boots scuffing the earth.

My own ropes were a tangled mess even after Kabe's sort.

Want to know what evil is, it's the way climbing ropes twist in and around themselves while stuffed in a pack. Not much to do but start pulling, gently, easing the twists out as I went.

There's something soothing in a methodical task, especially one that's somewhat mindless. Only a little bit of my mind needed to focus on the feel of the cord in my hands. The rest of my thoughts could spin out, walk the paths that I'd only caught glimpses of. Twist the puzzle pieces around, see what 66

Hard Fall

by James Buchanan

fit and what didn't and where all the holes in the big picture were.

My fingers soothed nearly twenty feet of rope before it hit.

"Wait," my hands dropped into my lap and I turned to look up at Kabe. "Didn't her husband say she'd gone off to take pictures of the sunrise?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I think so. She took pictures of everything."

"Do you remember seeing a camera?"

Kabe stilled. "No, I don't." He let his fingers walk the rope a little longer. Then he added, "But, I might have missed it."

"Pretty straight shot down to where we found her. Might have bounced and gone further." Though I was sure I'd have spotted it had the camera been anywhere near. "And I'm curious." I was beyond curious actually. "'Cause her husband, he was acting like he was all distraught and such..."

"But he was only
acting
like he was fucked up by it."

"You know, the English language is perfectly fine without the use of profanity." I glared at Kabe. I ain't prissy, but I don't need to hear certain words to know someone's serious.