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“Want to tell me more about the case while we walk?” Titan asks.
“Isabella was hiking the Mystic Mountain Traverse Trail,” I explain. “She started her journey with the goal of hiking the entire long-distance trail of one-thousand two-hundred miles.”
“That’s an ambitious goal. Was she a seasoned hiker?”
“Not really. That’s why I believe the theory about her miscalculating how much food she had to take for the seven-day stretch from Highcliff Hollow to Mountview Meadows. She could’ve left the trail for a resupply in Bearclaw Ridge. Something must’ve happened to her in that stretch of wilderness.”
He mulls over my theory. “Could be, although the ones hiking the Mystic Mountains Traverse Trail rarely take the twenty-mile detour into town.”
“But it does happen?”
He shrugs. “Occasionally, yes.”
“See? There are tons of possibilities that can explain what happened to her.”
“I know, but why doesn’t the police keep looking for her?”
I smile. “I’m glad you asked. In some cases, there comes a point where law enforcement’s hands are tied. They're limited in what they can do with no evidence of foul play or a clear indication that a crime has occurred. And then there’s the issue of limited staffing and funding. In small towns like ours, the police are forced to prioritize cases based on urgency and available leads.”
He’s still not convinced. “But what about that sighting of Isabella you talked about earlier?”
“Like I said, they claimed it’s a dead-end. There’s no surveillance footage with her on it, nor is there an accurate description of the man she was supposedly seen with.”
Titan stops walking and crosses his arms over his chest. “Let me get this straight. So you’re telling me the police have done everything they could already?”
I nod.
“But you are going to crack the case? How?”
“We can explore leads and angles that might have been overlooked or underplayed by the police. And as independent podcasters, we don’t need to follow protocols.”
He laughs. “You mean we’re going to break the law?”
“More like being creative with the rules,” I say with a grin.
A big smile spreads over his face, and I’m afraid cartoon hearts will pop out of my eyes any second now. Fuck, he’s dreamy. My gaze zooms in on the dimples in his cheeks, barely visible because of his beard.
“So, what’s our first move?” he asks, snapping me out of my daydream.
“I thought we could interview a few people who were seen at the spot of the supposed sighting. After that, maybe we can hike up to where they found her backpack?”
“Okay.” He knits his eyebrows together. “And who are we interviewing exactly?”
I put my backpack on the ground and rummage around until I find a scrambled piece of paper. It wasn’t easy getting hold of the list of names the police compiled, but I did it anyway, something I’m very proud of.
“Let’s see,” I say, scanning the paper. “There’s Grizz, who works at The Ridge Wildlife and Rehabilitation Center, an old lady called Mrs. Jenkins, and Sloane and Benson, the siblings who own The Grizzly Grove Bar.”
“Mrs. Jenkins? Are you serious? You want me to go nag an old lady about something that happened years ago? I mean, Grizz, Sloane, and Benson, sure, but Mrs. Jenkins… I don’t know.”
I offer him my best pouting face. “Oh, come on, Titan. Please? You know all these people way better than me. I’m not up to speed with life in Bearclaw Ridge anymore. I moved away a long time ago, remember?”
His jaw ticks when I talk about moving away. For a moment, I think it’s because he missed me and wanted to be with me after all, but then I realize how ridiculous that sounds. If that was true, he could’ve just tracked me down online and begged me to return. I would’ve been on the first plane back home, ready to throw myself in his arms and—
“Earth to Harper,” he says with a smile. “Everything okay?”
“Um, yeah, I was lost in thought. About the case,” I lie.
More like the case of me falling back in love with Titan. Or rather, still in love because I never fell out of love with him. I let out a choked gasp when that epiphany sinks in.
