Always Look Twice Read online

  “Yes. I didn’t have a lot of information, but they’re sending deputies. Contacted rangers in the area too. I’ll get right on warning them about the bear though.” Leroy exited the tent.

  “If this wasn’t the bear, then what happened?”

  “I fell and hit my head.”

  “Where else are you hurt?”

  She probably didn’t have any idea how nasty of a gash her injury was. Heath didn’t have the heart to tell her or scare her more.

  Leroy came back with the first aid kit and a blanket, which he wrapped across Harper’s shoulders. Food sizzled on the fire pit outside. He wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. The smells could draw the bear. “Let Pete know to keep an eye out. Get the food put away as soon as possible.”

  “Uh, he’s not here.”

  Heath swung around to stare at Leroy. “What?”

  “He wasn’t here when we got to the camp.”

  “Well, call him. Radio him. Get him back here. We need the hands.”

  Heath returned his attention to Harper and wiped around the wound. “We really need to get you to a hospital, but that’s a bit of a drive. I thought I’d clean it up first, but . . .” He hesitated.

  “It’s that bad, huh?”

  “Did you lose consciousness?”

  “No. I was only dazed. Everything was fuzzy. I called for help, but I hadn’t really thought someone would hear me and come to help. It was more of a cry of desperation.”

  He paused to look at her eyes, and in them he saw the person he remembered—the girl he’d known so well was still there inside, despite the years of life between them. She’d been so important to him then. Helped him through a tragedy. She’d been his lifeline—he could return the favor, if nothing else.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get you down the mountain to the clinic. How did you get to the trail?”

  “I parked at the trailhead.”

  “Mind if we take your vehicle? We packed all the way up to this camp, so I’d have to go all the way to my ranch to get a vehicle. Or we could call for help. Get a ranger here to take you down.”

  Leroy stuck his head through the tent opening. “Pete’s back.”

  “Thanks. Warn him about the bear and the shooter, but I don’t want anyone to panic. Make sure the horses are safe too.” Heath rewrapped her head, his own hands shaking now. Maybe he should have Pete and Leroy go ahead and help the guests pack up the camp. Or have them head back to the ranch and they could come back tomorrow for the camp.

  “I can drive,” Harper said. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me. You have your hands full already.” She pulled the blanket tighter and stood up as if she would walk out of the tent and follow the dark trail to her vehicle alone, then hesitated. Was she afraid of the bear? The shooter? Her legs still shaking, she lifted the tent opening. Beyond the camp, the woods had turned to complete darkness as dusk had drawn to an end and night had settled on the Bridger-Teton National Forest.

  That look on her face. Fear. Pure fear. He thought of those he’d known in his life who’d had that same look. Women who’d been stalked or abused or traumatized in some way. Harper was one of those—she’d been terrified and grief-stricken after her father was murdered. And then her family moved.

  He hadn’t seen her again until today.

  “I don’t think you should drive yourself anywhere. I’ll drive.”

  Harper was turning pale. Despite his efforts to rewrap the wound, blood oozed down her forehead again. She reached up to touch the gash, then examined her blood-covered fingers. She swayed as though dizzy, then her body went limp. Heath caught her before she hit the hard ground.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MONDAY, 10:35 P.M.

  GRAYBACK GENERAL HOSPITAL

  Dressed in a white lab coat, Dr. Lacy Jacob, a fifty-something woman with a few gray roots sprouting in her shiny brown hair, hovered over Harper’s head. “Now, hold still. You’re going to be just fine.”

  A sharp pain stabbed her. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to feel anything.”

  “You’re not. We’ll give you some more anesthetic.” She eyed the nurse named Jesse James.

  Like the outlaw, he’d told her. Jesse grabbed a syringe and injected more pain-killing anesthetic into her head near the wound.

  “Now you shouldn’t feel a thing,” Dr. Jacob said. “Try not to think about it so much. Tell me what happened. How’d you get this nasty gash?”

  Harper squeezed her eyes shut. “I fell and hit a rock.”

  As the doctor continued to close the wound, Harper thought back to the moments leading up to that. After the shooter killed the woman, he found Harper through his rifle scope. Pain spiked through her again, bringing her back to the present.

  Tears surged. She reached up to swipe them away only to be blocked by Dr. Jacob’s arms.

  The doctor eyed her suspiciously. “Oh, now I’m almost done, hon.” She backed away and looked at her handiwork. “You’ll need to come back in a week or so and I’ll look at removing them. These aren’t dissolvable. I wanted to minimize the scar.”

  Minimize the scar? She’d have a scar. “A week?” She and Emily had planned to start home to St. Louis tomorrow, after they drove by the house where they used to live.

  “My sister!” She’d completely forgotten about Emily. Harper sat up and threw her legs over the bed. “I have to call her. She’s going to be worried sick.”

  Where was her cell? Oh . . . she’d dropped it when she was scrambling away from certain death.

  “Hold on.” The doctor urged her back onto the bed. “You need to take it easy for a few minutes. I’ll be back in to check on you.” Dr. Jacob left the room.

  Harper directed her words to the nurse. “I need to call my sister. Can I borrow a phone?”

  “We’ll see what we can do,” Jesse said as he prepared a syringe.

  “What’s that for? You’re not giving me something to relax me, are you?”

  He chuckled. “This is a tetanus shot, dear.”

  She was getting a tetanus shot and stitches while a murderer was out there. Someone had been killed tonight.

  Her pulse jumped. Where was the sheriff? Heath had called him on the way to the hospital. Told him what Harper had said. The sheriff was supposed to meet them there so she could tell him what she’d witnessed.

  The images rushed over her like the Grayback River rushing over the Canyon Falls.

  She’d been photographing the grizzly. Pure unadulterated nature. Then she’d witnessed a murder. She’d taken a yearlong sabbatical from her job as a crime scene photographer per her therapist’s suggestion, and what happened? She took live-action shots of a murder as it occurred. The sheriff would want to know how Harper knew the woman was dead. Lifeless eyes. Had she caught that part on her camera? She’d tried to be proficient as she captured the scene, but everything happened so fast, and she’d been both horrified and scared to death.

  That woman. She was so young. Had her whole life ahead of her. Harper would never forget her eyes.

  She started shaking. She might never stop.

  Nurse Jesse handed her a landline handset.

  Harper stared at it. “What’s this?”

  “You said you needed a phone.”

  “Right. Oh no. I can’t call her with this. Her number is in my cell, and I lost that. I don’t have her number in my head.” Harper looked from the phone to Jesse.

  “I get that. These days, who remembers numbers anymore? Sheriff can help you contact your sister as soon as he gets here. Doc Jacob wants you to sit right there until then.”

  She shook her head and slid from the bed until her feet touched the ground. “I need to head back to the camp before Emily calls a search party on me. She probably already has.”

  “Harper?”

  She peered around Jesse at the familiar form standing in the doorway. Heath McKade. Once upon a time she’d known this man. Or rather, she’d known this man when he was a boy, and had known him well. It was
weird and awkward to be in this situation with him. He sure looked nothing like the kid he’d once been. He had been scrawny even at twelve—gangly then too—but she’d still thought he was cute. He’d had a certain way he smiled . . .

  And just like then, Heath grinned at her now, as though he would take all her troubles away. She knew that was for her benefit. That was the Heath she remembered. And that smile. She could never forget that. Or the fort he’d shown her where he would hide.

  She remembered the trauma he’d been through, then she’d gone through her own. Had his experience changed him forever like Harper’s had changed her? She wouldn’t wish that on anyone, but how could one escape the deep scars left from childhood devastation? Still, time hadn’t stopped, and life had moved on.

  And here they were. No longer kids. Heath was definitely anything but scrawny. His mussed, dark brown hair shagged near the edge of his collar, and his eyes were still the most brilliant blue. His face had filled out, and he had a strong jaw that he left scruffy. He certainly hadn’t had whiskers as a twelve-year-old.

  They’d been best friends at one time—finding a connection to each other they hadn’t been able to find with anyone else. But now . . .

  For all practical purposes, the man was a stranger to her, wasn’t he?

  He stepped fully into the room. “Harper.”

  She blinked. “Sorry. I was thinking.”

  Honestly, she’d thought he’d dropped her at the small-town emergency room and left. Funny how glad she was to see a familiar face—well, not so familiar anymore.

  His square jaw worked back and forth as his brow furrowed with concern. “Everything all right?”

  “My sister Emily. I need to let her know that I’m okay.” She reached for the stitches, but Jesse caught her hand.

  He shook his head gently. “Don’t touch. I still need to put a bandage over the wound.”

  “Where is she staying?” Heath asked. “We can let the rangers know. Either they or a deputy can find her.”

  “Okay, that’ll work, but it’s still going to freak her out.” Harper sat back on the edge of the bed. “Where’s the sheriff? I need to speak to him and make sure someone is out there looking for the man who killed the woman in the woods. I should have done more. I tried to call 9-1-1, but I couldn’t get a signal. Instead of staying I . . . I ran.” Grief tried to overcome her, but she held it back. Later, when she was alone, she could fall apart.

  Heath crossed his arms, which seemed to make his shoulders broader. “You won’t have to wait long for the sheriff. He’s already in the hospital questioning someone else. He’s coming to talk to you next.”

  “One of those mailbox bombs hurt someone this time,” Jesse said. “I think the sheriff’s talking to him before we send him on to St. John’s in Jackson. Different county. Different sheriff.”

  Heath stepped closer and sucked the oxygen out of her personal space. “Someone is already out there looking where you said you witnessed the crime. And you did everything you could, Harper. Don’t beat yourself up.”

  She wished this had been a nightmare. “Emily will be—”

  “Don’t you worry, Harper,” Heath said. “I got this. What was the name of the campground?”

  “Granite Ridge. Our site is registered to Emily Reynolds.”

  Heath got on his cell, his eyes never leaving hers.

  Did he have a wife? His marital status didn’t matter one way or another. Harper was curious, that was all.

  “I need to assist with other patients. I’ll be back to check on you.” Jesse smiled and stepped from the room, but Dr. Jacob returned.

  She pulled out a small flashlight and shined it in Harper’s eyes, moving the light to the left and the right.

  “Is everything okay?” Harper asked.

  “Seems to be.” Dr. Jacob turned off the flashlight.

  Harper blinked a few times, relieved to be rid of the bright light in her eyes.

  Cell phone to his ear, Heath glanced her way, winked, and exited the room, leaving her with the impression he was taking care of her. Though she was grateful to have someone in her corner, she didn’t need his help. “Why would he bring me all the way in and stick around?” Harper hadn’t meant to say the words out loud.

  “That Heath McKade is a good man.” Dr. Jacob entered information into a computer. “You should be glad he stayed. Tell me again. You said you didn’t lose consciousness, right?”

  “No.” As far as she remembered. “I was dizzy and disoriented.” Terrified. Admittedly, Harper had been confused. Maybe she had lost consciousness, but she didn’t think so.

  After she’d fallen and hit her head, she grappled with the pain for a few moments. Her camera clattered into the gully next to her—Harper could have easily fallen down there too. Instead, her camera had left her behind. And where was her cell phone?

  Then she saw blood on her hands. Blood everywhere. Fear choked her. Had she been shot? Waves of dizziness kept her anchored.

  The blood and pain blurred her eyes so that she couldn’t see. Using her arm, she wiped her eyes, and finally, she got up and tried to find her way back to the trail but somehow got turned around.

  When she heard someone coming, desperation compelled her to call for help. But then she realized her mistake. What if the shooter had crossed the river to find her? She then hid for a few moments and watched the man get off his horse. She had to make sure he had come to help. Finally, she decided the man in the Stetson wasn’t the shooter. He couldn’t have so quickly changed his attire and made it to where she was. And Heath—though she hadn’t known it was him at the time—had that protective demeanor. Harper decided to make herself known when the grizzly she’d been photographing moments before approached the man who’d come to help. She couldn’t simply stand idly by while a bear tore him to shreds, so she’d intervened.

  Now Heath appeared in the doorway again. Her breath caught as if she were surprised all over again that this man was Heath McKade—her childhood friend. So many bittersweet memories that she’d long forgotten came drifting back, along with that terrible goodbye she’d offered him without explanation after her father was killed. Murdered.

  Behind Heath a formidable man in a uniform entered, whom she assumed was Sheriff Taggart.

  Heath approached her. “I called the campground offices and found someone to notify your sister that you’re okay and will be back soon.”

  Soon was a relative term.

  The sheriff stepped forward and offered a surprisingly warm but serious smile. “I’m Sheriff Taggart. Tell me more about this murder you claim to have witnessed.”

  Claim to have witnessed? Law enforcement speak.

  “Not only did I witness it, I took pictures.”

  That news didn’t change his facial expression, but he tugged out a pad and pen. “I’m going to need details. I already sent deputies and my investigator out to the general area, but so far they haven’t found anything. We can get a better look at the crime scene tomorrow.”

  Harper frowned, thinking of all those deputies stepping on any evidence that might have been left behind. Still, how could they avoid it when they needed to search the area for the woman’s body?

  “Primarily, we’re looking for a body tonight, though honestly, I hope we find a woman who is still alive. I’ll need to see the pictures too.”

  Harper held on to a fragment of hope too. Then again, she’d seen her eyes. Lifeless eyes couldn’t be mistaken.

  “I . . . I, uh, lost the camera.”

  He arched a brow. Ah, so the sheriff could show surprise. Maybe even displeasure. “We can get it back. Tell me where you lost it so I can send someone to collect it and secure the scene.”

  “No, wait. I have a memory card in my pocket.” A thrill shot through her. She’d all but forgotten. “I had to switch them out in the middle of taking pictures of the crime.” Harper felt around in her jeans’ pockets.

  Where is it? “Excuse me while I find it.” She stood from t
he bed and dug deep in all her pockets. No. It couldn’t be gone. How could she have lost it? Both Sheriff Taggart and Heath watched her. “I could’ve sworn I stuck it in my pocket. But I was trying to call 9-1-1 and take pictures, and I guess I dropped it instead of sticking it in my pocket.” Shame flooded her. “But the memory card is out there somewhere with the camera.” She looked to Heath. She was familiar with the trail from her childhood, but it had been so long since she’d walked it. “Tell him where the bear attacked you.”

  Heath shared details about the trail and the area, sounding far more familiar with the region.

  “Why were you in the area?” Sheriff Taggart asked.

  Harper cleared her throat to explain. “I was on my way back from Yellowstone. Back to the campground. I stopped when I saw the trailhead. It reminded me of my father.” Harper pursed her lips, wishing she hadn’t brought him up, but now that she had, she might as well finish. “We used to hike that trail years ago. Would sometimes fish at the river from the other side—where the woman was shot. And it just happened a grizzly bear was down by the river. I’ve been hoping for a chance to photograph one.” For months now. “So where Heath explained he ran into the bear, the murder happened across the Grayback River from that point. I was using my zoom lens to get close shots of her face. She was terrified. She knew he was hunting her.”

  And now he could hunt me.

  Her only consolation? He had to figure out who she was and find her first. Still, the doctor’s words drifted back to her. “You’re going to be just fine.”

  Even though the doctor had patched her up, Harper was not going to be just fine.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  For some reason he would never understand, Heath always ended up assisting someone in the direst of circumstances. Maybe that was the simple matter of him answering the call. Maybe his Green Beret training and the motto—de oppresso liber, to free the oppressed—kicked in, and he was obligated to respond.

  Or more recently, his role as a reserve deputy added that extra assurance that he would step up to the task. While that remained the right thing to do, Heath still doubted he was the right person to do it.