Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
When I’d said as much to Tommy the other night, though, those hazel eyes had twinkled at me, and he’d shaken his head. “Sometimes it takes people a minute to find their footing in a new situation,” he’d reminded me gently. “Why don’t you talk to him and find out what his deal really is? Or, at the very least, give him a fair shake and a chance to prove himself?”
This made sense, so I’d decided to see what Jasper was capable of.
“Any questions?” I asked the group.
“What about the dog?” asked Jenna, a guide from Utah who’d been skeptical of Chickie from day one. “She’s still pretty young. Can we rely on her?”
I glanced down at Chickie, who was sitting at perfect attention despite the chaos around us. “Consider her a student, just like yourself. She’ll rise to the challenge today, or she won’t. Since this is a learning experience for everyone, there’s no failure here, only opportunity for more learning.”
As the teams finished their gear checks, I caught sight of Tommy in my peripheral vision. He was crouched next to his medical kit, walking one of his students through proper medication dosing for altitude sickness. Even from this far away, I could hear the patience in his voice, the way he turned a complex calculation into something his student could actually understand and remember.
The guy was a natural teacher. Hell, he was a natural at most things he tried, which should have been annoying but somehow just made me want to watch him work.
Or take him back to the cabin and watch him being a natural at other new things—
“Foster?” Sarah’s voice snapped me back to attention. “We ready to move out?”
Right. Yes. Focus.
“Yeah. Gear up,” I called. “Let’s move before our storm comes in.”
The first hour on the trail was exactly what I’d expected—controlled chaos as my team tried to remember everything they’d learned while navigating terrain that seemed designed to trip them up. Gradually, though, they found their rhythm.
Jasper proved he had the backbone for leadership, making decisive calls about witness interviews and search patterns while keeping everyone focused on the task at hand. Sarah backed him up without trying to take over, and even Jenna started working with Chickie instead of around her.
“Hold up. Our twelve o’clock, about forty yards,” Jasper called out, pointing a finger. His voice carried easily across the rocky terrain. “Marcus on scope, see anything?”
Marcus pulled up his binoculars, scanning the tree line. “Nothing yet. Wait—is that fabric caught on that pine branch?”
“Good eye, Jasper,” Tommy called, adjusting his medical pack as his group picked their way up the slope to join mine. “Foster, remind me again why you couldn’t have hidden our victim somewhere with less elevation change? My quads are filing a formal complaint.”
“Lightweight city boy,” I muttered, shooting him a wink. “Forty-five minutes of hiking and you’re already whining. What happened to all that residency stamina?”
“That was standing stamina. For twelve-hour shifts in climate-controlled buildings with vending machines every fifty feet.” Tommy paused, making a show of pressing his hand to his chest. “This is cruel and unusual punishment.”
“Marcus,” I called to one of the students, giving Tommy a chance to catch his breath. “What’s your next move?”
“Assess the evidence quickly but carefully,” Marcus replied promptly. “And maybe leave Dr. Marian here to recover?”
“Hey!” Tommy protested with a breathy laugh. “I’ll have you know I was an excellent rock climber in college.”
“Was being the operative word,” I teased, steadying Tommy’s elbow as he nearly slipped on loose rock. “When were you in college again? When the Beatles were hot?”
“How about Imagine Dragons? I’m only thirty-two, you ass. Two years younger than you, I might add.”
Chickie bounded ahead of the group, nose to the ground, tail wagging frantically. She’d definitely caught something.
“At least someone’s doing their job properly,” I observed, watching Chickie work. “Unlike certain medical professionals who are too busy complaining to notice we’ve got visual contact with our target.”
Tommy glanced at the “injured hiker”—actually Robyn in a torn shirt and dramatic fake blood—waving weakly from behind a boulder about twenty yards ahead. “I’m here in a supervisory role, Sheriff. My team can handle the medical assessment. I run a tight ship.”
He dropped his pack and stretched. “Where are those endorphins I learned about in medical school?” he asked with a grin.
“I thought you were one of those good-boy types. Didn’t Matthew say you two went to the same gym?”
He grinned. “Working out in a New York gym is different. Surprisingly low altitude variance, for one thing. And much thicker air.”
My cohort stood nearby and chuckled at Tommy’s teasing. Jasper asked, “Wishing we’d had this drill in Brooklyn instead?”
Tommy shrugged and pulled one knee up in an exaggerated glute stretch. “Nah. I’ve always loved this mountain. There’s nothing I miss about New York—except I wouldn’t mind if someone would set up some food trucks out by the trailhead.”