The sheriff shot a glance at Caveman. “Mr. Decker, will you keep an eye on her to make sure she’s safe?”
“I will,” Caveman said. He wanted to know what was in that valley as well, but if it meant leaving Grace alone on the ridge, he would have stayed with her.
“Fine. Come along, but stay back.” Sheriff Scott and the deputy climbed onto their four-wheelers and eased their way down a narrow path to the valley floor.
Caveman let Grace drive again, knowing she was better protected with his body wrapped around her than if she’d ridden on the back.
At the bottom of the hill, Grace parked the four-wheeler twenty yards from the pine tree she’d indicated. “We’ll see a lot more on foot than on an ATV.”
“True.” Caveman studied the surrounding area, careful to stay out of the way of the sheriff and his deputy.
“Grace,” the sheriff called out.
She and Caveman hurried over to where the sheriff squatted on his haunches, staring at the dirt. He pointed. “Is this the spot where he fell?”
Grace glanced around at the nearby tree and nodded. “I think so.”
The sheriff’s lips pressed together and he pointed at the ground. “This looks like dried blood.”
Caveman stared at the dark blotches, his belly tightening. He’d seen similar dark stains in the dust of an Afghanistan village where his brothers in arms had bled out.
“Got tire tracks here.” Deputy Pierce stared at the ground a few yards away.
The sheriff straightened and walked slowly toward the deputy. “And there’s a trail of blood leading toward the tracks.”
Caveman circled wide, studying the ground until he saw what he thought he might find. “More tracks over here.” The tracks led toward a hill. Without waiting for permission, Caveman climbed the hill, parallel to the tracks. As the ground grew rockier, the tracks became harder to follow. At that point, Caveman looked for disturbed pebbles, scraped rocks and anything that would indicate a heavy four-wheeler had passed that direction.
At the top of the hill, the slope leveled off briefly and then fell in a sheer two-hundred-foot drop-off to a boulder-strewn creek bed below. Caveman’s stomach tightened as he spotted what appeared to be the wreckage of an ATV. “I found the ATV.” He squinted. What was that next to the big boulder shaped like an anvil? He leaned over the edge a little farther and noticed what appeared to be a shoe...attached to a foot. “I’m sorry to say, but I think I found Mr. Khalig.”
Grace scrambled to the top of the hill and nearly pitched over the edge.
Caveman shot out his hand, stopping her short of following the pipeline inspector to a horrible death. “Oh, dear Lord.”
Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, Caveman pulled her against him.
She burrowed her face into his chest. “I should have stayed.”
“You couldn’t,” Caveman said. “You would have been shot.”
“I could have circled back,” she said, her voice quivering.
“On that trail?” Caveman shook his head. “No way. You did the right thing.”
Sheriff Scott appeared beside Caveman. “Mr. Decker’s right. You wouldn’t be alive if you’d stopped to help a man who could have been dead before he went over the edge.”
Grace lifted her head and stared at the sheriff through watery eyes. “What do you mean?”
“We noticed footprints and drag marks in the dirt back there,” Deputy Pierce said.
The sheriff nodded. “I suspect the killer came back, dragged the body onto the ATV and rode it up to the hill. Then he pushed it over the edge with Mr. Khalig still on it.” He glanced over at the deputy. “We’ll get the state rescue team in to recover the body. The coroner will conduct an autopsy. He’ll know whether the bullet killed him or the fall.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Grace asked.
Sheriff Scott nodded. “I’d like you to come in and sign a statement detailing what you saw and at what time.”
“Anything you need. I’ll be there.” Grace shivered. “I wish I’d seen the killer’s face.”
“I do, too.” The sheriff stared down at the creek bed. “Murder cases are seldom solved so easily.” He glanced across at Grace. “You might want to watch your back. If he thinks you could pick him out in a lineup, he might come after you.”
Grace shivered again. “We live in a small town.” Her gaze captured the sheriff’s. “There’s a good chance I might know him.”
“If the law isn’t knocking on his door within twenty-four hours,” Caveman said, “he might figure out that you didn’t see enough of him to turn him in.”
“In which case, he’d be smart to keep a low profile and leave you alone,” the sheriff added.
“Or not.” Grace sighed. “I can’t stay holed up in my house. I have work to do. I still haven’t found my wolf.”
“It might not be safe for you to be roaming the woods right now,” the sheriff said. “By yourself, you present an easy target with no witnesses.”
Grace’s shoulders squared. “I won’t let fear run my life. I ran today, and Mr. Khalig is dead because I did.”
Caveman shook his head. “No, Mr. Khalig is dead because someone shot him. Not because you didn’t stop that someone from shooting him. You are not responsible for that man’s death. You didn’t pull the trigger.” The words were an echo from his psychologist’s arsenal of phrases she’d used to help him through survivor’s guilt. Using them now with Grace helped him see the truth of them.
He hadn’t detonated the bomb that had killed his teammates, nor had he pulled the trigger on the AK-47s that had taken out more of his battle buddies. He couldn’t have done anything differently other than die in his teammates’ place by being the forward element at that exact moment. He couldn’t have known. It didn’t make it easier. Only time would help him accept the truth.
* * *
“THERE IS SOMETHING you could do for me,” the sheriff said.
Grace perked up. “Anything.” After all that had happened, she refused to be a victim. She wanted to help.
“Go back down, get in my service vehicle and let dispatch know to call in the mountain rescue crew. Johnny and I will stay and make sure the wolves don’t clean up before they get here.”
“Will do,” Grace said. “Do you need me to come back?”
“No. We can handle it from here. You should head home. And please consider lying low for a while until we’re sure the killer isn’t still gunning for you.”
“Okay,” Grace said. Though she had work to do, she now knew she wasn’t keen on being the target of a gunman. She’d give it at least a day for the man to realize she hadn’t seen him and couldn’t identify his face. “You’ll let me know what they find out about the man down there?”
“You bet,” Sherriff Scott said. “Thank you, Grace, for letting us know as soon as possible.”
But not soon enough to help Mr. Khalig. She turned and started back down the hill. Her feet slipped in the gravel and she would have fallen, but Caveman was right beside her and helped her get steady on her feet. He hooked her elbow and assisted her the rest of the way down the steep incline.
At the bottom, he turned her to face him. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine, just a little shaken. It’s not every day I witness a murder.”
His