The Severed Pines Page 5

  He strolled over toward Kathryn. On the way, she bid goodbye to the two hikers as they headed off toward the lake. The sun glinted off her face, making her wince.

  “Kat, right?” Ben said, raising a hand to block out the rising sun.

  She cocked her head, taken aback. “That’s right. And you’re Ben. I’ve seen you around, I think, at the staff meetings.”

  “They sent me to help you with trail maintenance.” He showed her the shovel as proof. “Didn’t tell me which trail we’re doing today, though.”

  “Flattop Mountain trail,” she said, suspicion coloring her tone. “Just the first two miles.”

  Of all the different Kathryns Ben had pictured, she didn’t seem to present as any of them. She was a bit shy, speaking with a soft voice. Her shoulders hunched forward, and she tended to keep her hands at her sides. No eye contact.

  “That works for me,” Ben said, “because I’ve only got a couple hours to spend here. I’m supposed to meet with a sketch artist around lunch time.”

  She ducked her head, eyes toward his knees. “I heard about that whole thing. It’s crazy.”

  Ben didn’t want to scare her off by diving into the questions too early, so he mumbled a reply and pointed toward the trail. She obliged, and he let her take the lead. She was attractive, in a way Ben hadn’t noticed at first. A trim figure and clear skin. She had a natural look, with no makeup. Long hair that framed her face and would make a good cave to hide behind, like a turtle with a ready shell.

  For the first five minutes, he said nothing. They cleared the trail of sticks and branches, moving them to the side. At one place where the trail passed through a creek, they rearranged some rocks to act as stepping stones across the water. Ben wished he could have been doing this work all summer, instead of cleaning privies. More rock-moving and less poop-scraping. But, beggars didn’t always get to be choosers.

  “You been a ranger here long?” Ben asked.

  She shrugged. “Not really. I’m a volunteer.”

  “Oh, you are?”

  “Yeah. I was at Saguaro for a while, then I came here in May.”

  “What’s Saguaro like?”

  “Dry.”

  When she didn’t provide any further explanation, Ben went back to removing stray sticks and rocks from the trail. They continued their work for another couple minutes in silence.

  “You got here in June, right?” she asked.

  Ben nodded. “I bounced around for a while, and I was at Yellowstone before this. I’ll probably go back before next summer. That’s the plan, anyway.” He didn’t care to elaborate.

  She didn’t have a response for this, so they rested in awkward silence for a bit. Two overachieving trail runners came down the opposite way on the trail, each of them with small water bottles clutched in their hands and hip packs bouncing around as they jogged. Ben and Kat skittered to opposite sides of the trail to make room.

  Then, she wiped her hands on her pants and continued up, her shovel in her hand. After rounding the next corner, she resumed picking up stray bits of detritus in the trail, rearranging the logs that marked trail boundaries. But no conversation.

  Eventually, he asked, “do you get your performance reviews from Avery, or from Taylor?”

  This seemed to catch her off guard. She froze for a moment, then tried to smile as she tucked hair behind her ear. “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. I’ve gotten mine from Avery, but I hear some people report to Taylor directly. I was just curious because it seems different.”

  She shrugged and mumbled something non-committal, not really answering the question. They pushed along the trail, edging higher.

  “Wasn’t nearly as busy here as it is in Yellowstone,” he said. “Over the summer, I mean. In the winter, it’s pretty dead there. Or, it can be. Half the park is covered in snow and the trails are inaccessible to anyone but snowshoers, anyway.”

  “Lots of snowshoe people here in the winter,” she said absent-mindedly as she collected a stick from a few feet off the trail. She set the stick along the trail boundary, to replace a section where the border log had rotted away.

  He could soon see she wasn’t going to open up to him without some prodding.

  “Did you know him?” Ben said after they’d gone for another few minutes.

  “Who?”

  “William.”

  “Oh,” she said, pausing to sip from her water bottle. “Not really. I mean, he’s a ranger and I’m just a volunteer. I don’t think we said more than a few words to each other.”

  Ben already knew she was lying, but he studied her expression to see how she would react if he gave her a probing look. Her shoulders hunched further, drawing into herself. She seemed to look everywhere except for directly at Ben. Some of that would be expected, if she was either involved with or pined for William. His death would naturally make her upset.

  And, especially if she knew something about it she wasn’t willing to share, which Ben was starting to suspect.

  Chapter Ten

  Kathryn Delaney returned to her trailer from her morning trail-clearing chore and splashed water on her face. Her hands shook as she lifted the hand towel from the rack to dry the water slicking down her chin. This wasn’t right. Her world felt overrun with thorns and brambles.

  She stared at herself in the mirror. Too much time out in the sun this summer had brought a return of those damn freckles. The little dots of skin aberrations that marked her face. For some reason, when she saw them, the sight instantly made her ten years old, on the playground, being ruthlessly mocked by the boys. Dot-Face, they had named her. They called her other things, but for some reason, Dot-Face bothered her the most.

  Dot-Face. Dot-Face. Dot-Face.

  This whole thing was getting out of hand. She knew they wouldn’t be able to just move on as if nothing had ever happened, but now this volunteer ranger Ben was poking around. Asking questions about who she reported to and about William.

  This felt bad. It could lead to much worse things.

  It had all started so simply. A few notes to William, a few moonlight hikes and nights spent in the cramped beds of each other’s trailers. He was kind and caring and made her feel sexy in a way no boy had ever done before. She didn’t hate her body when she was with him. They had to keep it private around the others, of course, but when alone, he went after her like a ravenous lion. His attention never failed to flatter her.

  Then, William changed as the summer wore on. He grew cold, talked more and more about friends back home in Ohio, including female friends. A girlfriend back east? William would never say, and he danced around the subject with all the skill of a politician. But the more he talked about it, the less he wanted to come around. He stopped responding to the letters she slid into his open trailer window. He stopped knocking on her trailer door after sunset.

  If he had only communicated with her, none of this would have happened.

  She retrieved the little box from underneath her bed and took the key from around her neck to open the top. Inside, her little collection looked back up at her. She picked up a small baggie filled with white powder, sitting next to a rolled twenty dollar bill and a glass mirror. She tapped out some of the baggie on the mirror and then used her finger to draw the pile into two white lines. A credit card would make better lines, but she didn’t have time for that.

  Kat focused on the powder on the mirror, and not on her reflection. She didn’t want to see the dots.

  She ripped back the cocaine and breathed deeply as the chemical burn started in her nostrils and then descended her sinus passages.

  Inhaling deeply as her nasal passages cooled, she returned the box under the bed and ran some water in the sink. Tapping her foot. When it had warmed—which took forever in these trailers—she let a little puddle of water form in the interior crook of her knuckles, and then snorted it to help absorb the coke and make it speed along into her bloodstream.

  Ten seconds passed, staring at the wall.
Still tapping her foot. Now, she could feel it. Rushing through her blood, making things move. Faster and faster. Her panic subsided as endorphins flooded her body. The thorns and brambles softened as she breathed deeply, over and over.

  But it wouldn’t last.

  She exchanged her long sleeve top for a short one and then left the trailer. As she slipped on her sunglasses, she sped across toward the Beaver Meadows Visitor Center.

  While piloting her little car over the twisty roads, she drummed her hands on the steering wheel. As if against her will, she bounced up and down in her seat and hummed along to a tune only she could hear. She didn’t feel happy or positive, but the coke pulsing in her system approximated those feelings. A virtual reality simulation. For the next few minutes, she wouldn’t care about anything. Kat could feel alone in her car, a little box traveling through the world, a part of it and also apart from it. At this moment, nothing could touch her.

  Then, she neared the visitor center, and a little bit of the outside world came in. In another minute or two, she would have to leave the car and rejoin society. The social anxiety and fears would set in once again. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

  Kat navigated into the parking lot, waiting in line with the tourists trying to find parking spots. A trio of overweight ladies stood in the middle of the lot, panting. Probably flat-landers, struggling to breathe at eight thousand feet. Kat gave a polite honk of the horn, and they all waved and waddled over to the side of the lot. A parking spot opened up, right next to the handicapped spot at the front.

  And there he stood, Taylor. Outside Beaver Meadows, under the building’s wooden awning. He was speaking with the construction foreman for the new office complex and visitor center they were installing in the Wild Basin area. Taylor and the guy in the hardhat were both pointing at a clipboard. He seemed both hesitant and agitated.

  Taylor’s eyes flicked to her as she slid into the parking spot and he flashed her a warning look. Yes, it wasn’t good for them to be seen together. Kat knew this. But, she had to do it. Had to talk to him.

  As she left her car, Taylor shook hands with the foreman and started to walk back toward the building. Kat picked up the pace as she followed a trail behind his footsteps. She gained on him, but he wasn’t turning around. Why wouldn’t he turn and speak with her?

  She would have to do something drastic.

  “Mr. Snell?”

  He stopped short, as if he still didn’t want to turn around. As if he could pretend she didn’t exist.

  After a moment, he did pivot and face her, standing only a few feet from the entrance to the visitor center.

  “Yes, Ms. Delaney? What can I do for you this morning?”

  “Can I have a moment of your time?”

  He tilted his head and lifted a hand, faking a look at his watch. “Now’s really not a good time. I have a ton of stuff to do today. Can we schedule something for tomorrow, or maybe next week?”

  “I understand you’re busy, but this will only take a second.”

  “I don’t really have time.”

  “It’s important.”

  “I’m sure it is, Ms. Delaney, but I can’t accommodate you right now.”

  Kat lowered her eyes and balled her fists, then she spoke in a hushed growl. “Don’t humiliate me. I need to talk to you, and I’m not going away until you do.”

  He gritted his teeth and checked around the parking lot. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them. He heaved in a shuddering breath and looked past her.

  “Fine,” he said, his expression sour. “You can have literally one minute, but not here. Walk with me.”

  He spun and marched at a pace almost at a jog, toward the grassy area to the side of the building. He didn’t wait for her. Kat hustled to catch up to him. Heart pounding, the cocaine effect fading, but still making her rush. Sweat ringed the inside of her palms.

  “With everything going on,” he said when she caught up, practically seething, “it is not a good idea for us to be seen together.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. But that volunteer guy Ben showed up this morning while I was doing trail maintenance.”

  “So?”

  “He was asking questions.”

  Taylor pursed his lips, his anger interrupted. “Questions about what?”

  “About you.”

  “About me?”

  She nodded. “I think he knows.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ben and the sketch artist hadn’t been able to come up with a convincing image of what the attacker in the cabin had looked like. Ben could see his eyes and the sneer on his face, partly obscured by the man’s hoodie. Everything had happened so fast — too fast to know anything for sure. Everything was cluttered together in his head.

  Each time the sketch artist turned the tablet around, Ben would shake his head. After the third or fourth try, Ben started digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands. All of this felt so futile.

  Even more, he got the feeling the sketch artist didn’t want to be there and didn’t care. When Ben asked about the helicopter they were going to send to investigate William’s cabin, the sketch artist was noncommittal. He said something about how the parameters of the investigation were still being decided, and he wouldn’t meet Ben’s gaze during his reply.

  Ben knew the cops didn’t believe him. They seemed to think William had left of his own free will and wasn’t even missing.

  At least, three days in, they hadn’t arrested Ben yet. He wished they would arrest someone, as long as it wasn’t him.

  Ben resolved himself to the fact that the cops weren’t going to catch these guys. That meant it was up to him. Taylor had said they would keep it in house, which implied he would put park resources toward it. Ben didn’t assume that was likely at first, especially since Taylor had been nothing but shady so far. Ben wanted to ask what effort Taylor was willing to devote. Maybe if he intended to send a search party for William. But, Taylor had avoided him for the rest of the day.

  Ben didn’t know what he was up to, but it wasn’t good.

  So, he spent the afternoon going about his business, cleaning privies in the Wild Basin area, near the new construction. Big building there, lots of workers, lots of vehicles. In the evening, he and Reese went for a quick hike, neither of them saying much along they way. Just the way Ben liked it.

  Reese invited him out for beers in Estes, but the accumulation of it all was wearing on him. By the time the sun had set, he was already exhausted. So he sequestered himself in his trailer and fell asleep before nine.

  The next morning, Ben awoke to a new email notification sound from the laptop on the desk, across from his bed. There was also a text message on his phone. Because of the spotty internet, a text message usually arrived as backup communication, but only for critical items.

  His heart raced as he sat up in bed. Had they found William’s body?

  Ben tapped the spacebar to wake the laptop. A message from Avery Krafft the assistant superintendent of the park appeared on the screen. Ben squinted against the bright light, and read the subject line “IMPORTANT.”

  Ben clicked on the email.

  To: Bennett, Harvey

  From: Krafft, Avery

  Mr. Bennett. Please come see me in my office at your earliest convenience. I’ll be at my desk at 7:30 am. This is a mandatory meeting.

  Ben checked his watch. 7:05. If there had been a breakthrough in the search, Avery would have sent an email to everyone, right? Not only to Ben?

  This was about something else. Ben figured whatever Avery wanted, he might as well get it over with. He jumped in the shower and washed as much of his important bits as he could in the little time he had, then he threw on his ranger uniform and exited the trailer.

  Out in the lot, among the rows of boxy temporary homes, stood Kathryn. Frozen in place like a statue, staring at the mountains overlooking Moraine Park. A blanket draped over her shoulders, steam pluming from her mouth as she breat
hed.

  She turned when his door shut behind him. She offered him a sad look, and Ben could see tears streaming down her cheeks. Reddened eyes to match her hair. For a moment, they stood there, eyes locked. She sniffled a few times as the blanket slid down around her shoulders, exposing her shorts and white t-shirt covering goose-pimpled arms.

  He was about to lift a hand to offer a wave when she spun away from him and cinched her blanket closer. She strolled away, sliding between two trailers, and then she wandered out into the valley beyond the campgrounds.

  “Okay, sure,” Ben muttered to himself as he slid into his car and eyed himself in the rearview mirror. After a few cleansing breaths to wake himself up, he started the car and left the parking lot. His head felt like it was full of jelly, but he hadn’t had even one drink the night before. Lack of consistent sleep was turning him into a daytime zombie.

  A short drive took him to the visitor center, where Avery kept an office next door to Taylor’s. The parking lot was mostly full, so Ben had to find a spot in the auxiliary lot and then job up to the entrance. Felt like he’d already been out for a six mile run this morning.

  He checked his watch as he opened the front door. 7:35. Not too shabby, considering he’d been sleeping thirty-one minutes ago. The visitor’s center wasn’t technically open yet, so Ben made his way to the back section in two seconds flat. He navigated into the back hallway and knocked on the door marked Asst. Super and waited. A moment later, a voice said, “enter.”

  Ben opened the door to see Avery sitting at his desk, a stack of papers in one hand. He wore square glasses that clung to the edge of his hefty nose. Blonde hair flecked with gray was close cropped on top of his head, with sideburns that bordered on lampchops. An odd look. Also, Ben could see his shoes sticking out under the front of the desk. Expensive things, like Italian loafers. Unlike Taylor, who regularly went out and interacted with the rangers and helped out on the trails, Avery spent his time in the office. You could wear nice shoes when you were a desk jockey.