One Step Too Far (Frankie Elkin #2)(9)



At the other end of the table, Tim’s college friends continue to ignore the interaction, which I find fascinating. They are a group within the group. A separate pod of agitation and grief. One of them, a pale blond, is downing copious amounts of coffee, his hand trembling so hard he can barely bring the mug to his mouth. The friend closest to him whispers something in the guy’s ear. “Easy, now,” would be my guess.

“You have search and rescue experience?” Nemeth speaks up for the first time. His tone is doubtful as he takes in my appearance. I don’t blame him.

“I’ve assisted with line searches. And I’ve worked with dog teams.” I nod toward Luciana. Daisy has returned to her place under the table, leaning her square head against Luciana’s knees and sighing blissfully as her human scratches her neck.

“Got a pack? Camping gear?” Nemeth gestures to my luggage. “This is a backcountry expedition. You need to be experienced, know what you’re doing.”

“I can rent equipment.” Assuming it doesn’t cost more than a hundred and twelve bucks.

“Why?” Martin this time. He sounds less belligerent, more tired. “We don’t know you. You’re clearly not prepared. We don’t have time for this. We’re headed out first thing tomorrow.”

“I’m here to help. I read about your son. I read about your wife.”

A spasm of grief across Martin’s face.

“I’m here to help,” I repeat. “I have experience. I’m good at what I do.”

“She’s good at what she does,” Bob repeats.

“Sorry.” Nemeth this time, clearly not convinced of my bona fides. “Gotta have permission for these kinds of expeditions, and our permit only covers eight.”

“You’ll still be a party of eight,” I say.

Martin looks around. “There’s eight here, which makes you number nine.”

“He’s not going to make it.” I jerk my head toward the shaky blond.

“Josh,” one of the bachelor buddies exclaims sharply as Josh’s hand jerks violently and dumps coffee on the table.

“Shit. Josh.”

Three men, leaping up as hot brew hits their laps.

“What’s wrong? Man, you’re burning up!”

Josh remains sitting, staring at the spilled coffee as if he can’t get it to compute. His face is flushed, covered in sweat. His whole body is now trembling.

“He’s sick,” one of his friends says. “I think he has the flu.”

“He doesn’t have the flu.” I don’t have to be a recovering alcoholic to recognize the DTs.

Martin sighs heavily, exchanges a look with Nemeth. So they both knew about Josh’s drinking. Which he must have recently sworn off in order to assist with the final attempt to bring his friend home.

Except Josh hadn’t been drinking a little heavily before this. By the looks of things, he’d been a hard-core drunk, now entering the first stage of detox.

“I can help,” I repeat to Marty. “I can use Josh’s gear. I won’t slow you down. I promise.”

“Shit!” Fresh exclamation as Josh now slumps to the side, then slowly slides onto the floor.

Martin doesn’t say a word. Just closes his eyes.

Nemeth does the honors. He turns toward me. “Guess you’re in. Goddammit.”





CHAPTER 4





Can you shoot a gun?”

“God no. I rely on my charm.”

“And when a bear charges?”

“Um, run faster than the next person?”

Nemeth glances at my scrawny form, as I observe his sinewy build. He looks like he’s been hewn from the mountains themselves, a blend of rippling tree limbs and hard granite formations. He’s average height, around five ten, but there’s not an ounce of fat on him. I didn’t look that good in my twenties and certainly can’t imagine being that fit in my late sixties, early seventies. Nemeth may be my new hero. Though I kind of want to toss a brownie at him just to see what he’ll do.

“Last time I had a conversation this stupid was with an arrogant ass by the name of Bobby Monfort. Moved here from back east, swearing he’d grown up in the mountains and there was nothing he couldn’t handle. We tried to warn him these woods were different, but he set off on a seven-day hike anyway. Know what happened to Bobby Monfort?”

“Um, he lived a long and happy life?” I try.

“We removed him from the woods in pieces. Took weeks to find all of him. Looks like he was originally attacked by a grizzly. But then the racoons had a go at it, as well as the scavenger birds, et cetera. We’re talking skull picked clean, bones cracked open for their marrow, fingers and toes chewed down to nubs.”

I know he’s being purposely graphic just to scare me. Doesn’t mean it’s not working. “I’ll carry bear repellent,” I amend.

Nemeth rolls his eyes. He and I are in the college friends’ room at the motel across the street from the diner. The three still standing have left with Martin to take detoxing Josh to the closest hospital, which apparently is an hour away. In the meantime, Nemeth is bringing me up to speed, including helping me pillage Josh’s supplies. I’m not sure what Bob the Bigfoot hunter and Luciana the dog handler are doing, but Bob didn’t look too sad about having some time alone with a beautiful woman. Or he’s really into yellow Labs.

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