Alaskan Mountain Pursuit Elizabeth Goddard (best short novels .TXT) 📖

She nodded to Erynn. “And sometimes the troopers need Moose Haven PD’s help with particular cases because they technically have jurisdiction and the troopers don’t like to supersede that when they don’t need to.” She nodded at Noah. “Did I balance that well between the two of you so we can give up the fighting for now?”

Noah glared.

“So.” Erynn moved closer to the body. “I think this is our missing person from Kenai. The hiking blogger—Melissa Mitchell.”

Noah stepped closer to see as well, and then looked back at Clay. Clay knew what the other man was about to ask. It was time for Summer to get out of there. Pretty soon reality was going to hit, the knowledge that she could have ended up just like that, how close she’d come to being a body in the woods.

It roiled Clay’s stomach, and without thinking he reached out his left hand. Somehow he just needed physical contact with her right now as they made their way through the growing dimness of this thick area of forest. It was still early enough for plenty of daylight but the clouds had darkened, another heavy rain promising to be released soon in the future.

If she was surprised at his gesture, she didn’t show it. Just accepted his offered hand. It took him off guard how much smaller her hand was than his. So feminine and soft. He guessed he hadn’t spent much time thinking about what her hands were like, but for someone who was so tough and independent, she was also so fragile.

Clay couldn’t let anything happen to her.

“Let’s go,” he said to her.

“You don’t have to ask me again.”

SEVEN

Summer couldn’t quite get comfortable anywhere at the lodge, not after what they’d found that afternoon. Clay had been quieter than usual since they’d returned and the several attempts at conversation she’d made had been unsuccessful.

She’d finally given up and sat down with a sketchbook and some charcoal pencils. Her family teased her about how rarely she sat still, so this old hobby wasn’t one she had much time for anymore, but she did enjoy it when she got the chance.

“You’re very good.” Clay sat down beside her on the couch, leaning over slightly, she guessed to see what she was working on.

“Thanks.” She tilted the pad toward him. “Bear Creek Falls. I wanted to remember what the falls themselves look like, remind myself right now that I like that trail, it’s a good spot in the woods and it’s not the mountain’s fault that...” She couldn’t make herself finish.

Everything that had happened was settling into her mind, and she knew it was changing the way she viewed the world. Darkening it. Even the lodge that had been her home since she could remember wasn’t the same. That was why she hadn’t been able to get comfortable. Somehow everything had changed for Summer since the body had been discovered.

Because it wasn’t a body. It was a woman who’d been living, moving, warm flesh and blood like she was right now.

And the person who wanted Summer dead might be the same person who’d taken that other life.

It could have been her.

It almost was her.

“I see why you’d want to draw it. Got any others in that book?”

She didn’t know how much to show him. Was he humoring her, or was he really curious? Then again, did it really matter? He was offering them both something to distract them from the case and the overwhelming feeling that when Noah got home any minute, the news he brought with him might crush her beyond what she could bear.

“A few.” She kept her voice calm and handed the book to him. It might be easier if she just let him look rather than be involved in showing him.

He took the sketchbook, started at the beginning, something she admired about him. Any artist’s work, in Summer’s opinion, should be viewed not only as individual pieces but as a series, because that’s how people were—a series of things that happened to them, ways they’d changed, different characteristics...

“These are amazing, Summer.”

It only took him a minute or two to flip through them all slowly. She thought she might be up to sketch number eight in this book. Not much compared to the hundred or so pages waiting to be filled. But it had been a long time since she’d slowed down, or been slowed down enough to pick the hobby up again.

“Thank you.” She never knew what else to say when someone complimented something she enjoyed that came so easily to her.

“It’s easy to see that you love the mountains. How long have you been hiking seriously?”

“Hiking? Since I was a kid.” She could ignore his “seriously,” right? Maybe he hadn’t meant it the way she would have naturally interpreted it.

“Not just hiking in general, but like you do now. You hike like an athlete, like it’s something you’ve trained for.”

Were all cops this observant?

“Since I was seventeen.” The words tumbled out before she could question them, and now she couldn’t call them back. Summer didn’t know how to interpret her current emotions. She was scared, tense, but somehow felt less guarded around Clay than she had. Because of what had happened today, what they’d been through together so far?

She wasn’t sure.

The front door of the lodge opened before Clay could ask any follow-up questions, something for which she was thankful since she wasn’t sure she was ready for those yet.

“Clay? Summer?”

It was Noah.

“In here,” Summer called.

She heard Noah’s heavy footsteps approach and studied him as he entered. He looked like he’d aged a couple of years today, and his eyes had growing dark circles underneath them. Had he slept since all this had begun? Summer wasn’t sure.

“What did you find out?” she asked before she could stop herself, before she could consider she might not want to know.

“I’ve got to head back to the station. I’m just here to grab food and check in with you to make sure