The Buried Hours: A Novel, page 4
Not this pathetic, broken woman who lived in terror of being exposed for a horrific crime she didn’t remember committing.
The email from Leo hit her inbox at 6:32 p.m. Short and sweet.
He’s almost there. I gave him your room number.
Signe bolted to her feet, gripping the phone to her chest, offering thanks to every deity she could think of. She’d known Leo would come through for her, but as the day wore on without word, she’d begun to fear she’d have to enter the park alone tomorrow. She’d have done it, but it was a relief to know that wouldn’t be necessary.
A knock sounded on the hotel room door, and she sprinted the short distance. She flung the door wide, ready to greet Steven with a ferocious hug.
But the man framed in the light of the hotel corridor wasn’t Steven Higgins or even his older half brother, Leo Starr. No, it was a very angry-looking Mr. Hollywood himself, Cole Banner.
Oh, Leo, what the hell have you done?
CHAPTER 4
Signe Gates in the flesh. She was both everything and nothing like what Cole had expected from watching her show. He knew she’d be petite and pretty in an approachable, girl-next-door sort of way, even though yesterday at the museum she’d been polished and stunning, revealing layers to her beauty that shouldn’t have surprised him but managed to anyhow.
Now here she was, no makeup to add color to her pale white cheeks. No eyeliner or mascara to make her eyes look big for the camera, but still strikingly pretty with her shoulder-length dark hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. She wore yoga pants and a V-neck cotton T-shirt that hugged her modest curves. The casual clothes and lack of makeup made her look achingly young—like she was twenty-five, tops—but he knew she was in her late thirties, nearly two years older than him.
Her petite frame appeared almost fragile. How on earth did this pixie of a woman interview drug dealers, gunrunners, and pimps?
But he knew that already. He’d done his homework and watched every episode of her show and many of the segments she’d filmed as a freelance investigative reporter in the years before she landed the eponymous docuseries. He knew part of her guile was her nonthreatening physical presence and those wide, intelligent blue eyes that didn’t need makeup to be engaging.
He had a theory her straightforward manner and I want to understand you vibe tapped into some kind of universal longing. Even mob bosses wanted to be understood. All the better if it was a pretty woman who came across as steadfast, kind, and smart.
Not that they necessarily liked her. She was threatened before or during interviews often. But still, she came through each one unscathed, and he’d bet more than one crime lord held a secret hope they’d won her over.
It was the woman herself—forthright and forceful Signe Gates—who was the person they’d hoped to sway with their explanations, not the nameless viewers.
Now that he faced her in person and really took in how small she was as he towered over her, he added cunning to her list of attributes. This woman knew how to wield her looks and size. Not for the first time, he wondered what Leo Starr had forced him into.
He cleared his throat. “Ms. Gates, I’m Cole Banner. Your husband sent me to be your backpacking guide in Yosemite.”
“Ex. Leo is my ex-husband.”
Great job, Banner. Screwed up before you made it through the door.
“Right, sorry. Yes. I meant ex.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Would Leo can him from the docuseries if Signe refused him? He might not, but Cole had worked too hard to make it happen to take the risk.
He’d been so damn close.
Cole didn’t mind going into Yosemite. He didn’t even mind having to play guide to a pretty woman. It was the shit about being forced to do it that irked. While he was spinning his wheels playing hiking guide, his shot could slip away.
He never should have let the pseudoscientist prick get under his skin at the fundraiser last night. This scheme wouldn’t have crossed Leo’s mind without that leverage, and now Cole was snared, tasked with escorting his new boss’s cunning ex-wife into the wilderness for a multiday backcountry hike.
“Can I, um, come in?”
She shook her head and dread speared through him. Shit. He was screwed ten ways from Sunday if she kicked him to the curb now.
He pushed a foot into the doorframe to prevent her from slamming it in his face. “I need this job.”
She shook her head again, then stepped back and waved him inside. “Sorry. I didn’t mean no. I’m just . . .” Another shake, this one accompanied by a deep breath. “I thought Leo was sending someone else.”
He entered the hotel room. The only bed was covered in camping supplies, most items still in the packaging or with attached tags. “Who did you think was coming?”
“Leo’s brother, Steven.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that’s what Leo told you.”
Was Leo trying to make things difficult from the get-go? He supposed it fit with the two rules the man set down before sending him on this journey, but only the first rule made any kind of logical sense.
She frowned. “I need to call Leo. This . . . I’m just caught off guard.”
“Fine.”
She picked up her phone and cursed. “Um . . . can you give me Leo’s number?”
“You don’t have it?”
She gave him a sheepish look. “I sort of deleted it a while ago.”
Everything about this felt off, but like a good little employee, he pulled out his phone and recited the number. She dialed, then stepped out onto the balcony and closed the sliding door behind her.
He ran a hand over his face. What the hell was the plan from here?
Leo answered Signe’s call on the first ring. “Dammit, Leo. You said you were sending Steven.”
“No, I said Steven would probably be able to do it if I couldn’t find someone else. But I found someone else.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’ve had a busy day and was sidetracked after I got Cole to agree. You know, some of us have to work, Signe. I can’t just drop everything to accommodate you. The fact that I found someone who could give you a week of their time with less than a day’s notice was a frigging miracle. Be thankful.”
She huffed out a breath. “I am. I just . . . why should I trust this guy? He got in a fight at a museum fundraiser for Christ’s sake. Who does that?”
“Odem was faking. Cole didn’t hurt him.”
It didn’t matter that no one was hurt, not when Banner hadn’t been faking his anger.
“Is Cole Banner trustworthy?”
“Far as I know. Listen, he knows hiking and climbing, just like you wanted. He even knows Yosemite—he worked on digs inside the park as a contractor a while back. He’s no cameraman but knows more than Steven would.”
Okay, so Leo had put thought and effort into this. That, at least, was a relief. “I’m sorry I’m being bitchy. I was just surprised. You’re sure about him?”
“Mostly. But, Sig, you can’t tell him . . . what you claim happened on Bastille Day. Keep it private. He wouldn’t believe you anyway, and I don’t need you mucking up my working relationship with my show host.”
What are you worried about, Leo? That he will believe me?
She took a deep breath. She didn’t know Cole Banner at all, but he’d shown up when she needed him. No point in poisoning his relationship with Leo for his good deed. “I know. I won’t talk about my missing hours. But he still needs to know this can be . . . risky. I’ll stress how dangerous meeting informants can be. If he’s watched my show, he’ll understand.”
“I told him to bring a gun. He knows there’s risk involved.”
Like her, Leo had rarely—possibly never—brought a gun to a meeting with an informant. That he’d instructed Cole to do so meant he might be coming around to believing Signe’s version of events.
Too little, too late.
“Thank you for warning him. And thank you for finding me a guide.”
“I care about you, Sig. I want to see you whole again.”
She hung up without responding. They both knew he didn’t care enough and that she’d never really recover—the woman she’d been two years ago was dead and buried.
She needed to find a way to appreciate this new version of herself and fill her life with others who liked her too. Not people like Leo who demanded she go back to being a woman who didn’t exist anymore.
She stood on the balcony for a moment. It was slightly cooler now as the sun lowered, and the warm air felt good on her skin. It would be more like this in the park, especially at the higher elevations. The heat wouldn’t be so intense. And hopefully there’d be less smoke.
If only this were just a backpacking trip through Yosemite. She’d enjoy that. A vacation in a beautiful place. Cole Banner was easy on the eyes too. A beautiful place with a beautiful man.
What would it be like to have a life that included hiking for fun?
These wistful thoughts were a waste of time. Nothing about this journey would be fun.
Banner probably didn’t even want to be here. As Leo had said, finding someone who could give up a week of their life at the drop of a hat was a monumental task. But Leo had leverage, and her ex was a master at wielding that kind of power. It was one of his greatest skills as a filmmaker.
She straightened her spine and prepared to charm Mr. Hollywood. She had to win him over, because one thing was certain: she needed his help. Desperately.
The cool air inside the room was a shock to the system after being outside. She gave her new partner a wry smile. “I hope you enjoy hiking in hot weather, Mr. Banner.”
His gaze swept down her body. Up close as he was, she could see now his eyes were a warm brown. He was every bit as handsome in jeans and a T-shirt as he’d been in a tuxedo. He was also somehow bigger and more imposing as he stood at the foot of the bed, studying her.
Should she be afraid of him? He might not have actually injured that guy yesterday, but he’d radiated violent energy.
She didn’t need a hothead for a guide. When dealing with sketchy informants, irrational mood swings were dangerous.
“I’m good with both backcountry hiking and camping in high heat, and Yosemite is one of my favorite places in the world. Also, call me Cole.”
“You aren’t here willingly, are you, Cole?”
“Depends on how you define willingly. I wasn’t dragged here, nor was extortion involved.”
“But maybe a little coercion?”
He held up his right hand with his index finger and thumb about a quarter inch apart. “Only this much.”
She offered a grim smile. “I’m pretty sure it’s more than that. That scene at the museum bit you in the ass, didn’t it?”
He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “I barely touched the prick.”
“I believe you.”
“Sadly, you aren’t the head of TWN, nor are you the executive producer of the show I’m supposed to host.”
“No, but I know both men—one exceedingly well—and can put in a good word for you when we return to LA.”
“Which is why I’m at your service with minimal coercion. Now, tell me what this is about.”
CHAPTER 5
Cole had picked up takeout Chinese food on his way through town—Leo had made the order with Signe’s favorite dishes—and he retrieved his duffel bag and the hot food from his car, then stopped at the front desk to ask for utensils for two before returning to Signe’s hotel room.
He laid out the food on the small round table by the balcony and they each filled a plate, then settled side by side on the love seat to eat and plan their expedition.
After just a few bites, Signe set her dinner aside and reached for her laptop. She opened the web browser and angled the screen so he could see while he ate.
“In the last dozen years or so,” she began, “Yosemite has averaged between thirteen and twenty deaths per year. In the first two years of the pandemic, the number of deaths dropped well below those averages, but that was due to a similar drop in the number of park visitors, so isn’t statistically significant for our purposes.”
He nodded. He had firsthand experience in that area. He’d been one of the lucky few who’d gotten a pass to enter the park during the first year of the pandemic. It had been wild to visit popular landmarks and have them all to himself.
She pointed to the most recent statistics on the screen. “Deaths are up by quite a bit this year, especially for being only midway into the high season, but it’s really only these two deaths we’re looking at.”
She clicked on a short article that included a photo of a man suspended from a rock wall. He had light brown skin; thick, dark hair; and a sharp, square jaw. His mouth was spread in a broad grin and flanked by a pair of dimples. His slightly tattered shirt bore the flag of the Philippines.
In the photo, he was handsome, young, and vibrant.
Except he wasn’t anymore.
“Manny Lontoc,” Signe said. “Twenty-four. He was eight when his family moved here from the Philippines. His body was found sixteen days ago. No details are given on where or the cause of death, just that he was inside the park. He’s described as an active participant in the Yosemite climbing community. He had no ID on him. His remains were identified by other climbers. He has no known address and his family hasn’t been located.”
She let out a frustrated sigh. “Every call I’ve made to find out more has been a dead end. No one knows anything about him. The coroner’s report hasn’t been filed yet—at least not in a place where I can request access to it. I don’t even know if there’s an ongoing official investigation into his death. I figure our best hope is locating climbers in the park who knew him.”
Cole wished Leo had given him this information before he left LA. “I can help with that. I’ve done my share of climbing and spent time at Camp 4.”
Camp 4 was considered the birthplace of rock climbing’s modern age—and was even on the National Register of Historic Places for that reason. If Manny Lontoc had been a climber, Camp 4 was the place to start the search for people who knew him.
Signe gave him a thankful smile. “Leo said you know climbing.”
“I’m no expert, but I’m familiar with the community.” He set aside his empty dinner plate and made a mental note on what he’d say in the texts he needed to send later.
Signe clicked on a new tab. “I’m afraid finding people who know our other deceased man is going to be impossible.” She paused to eat a few more bites, then returned her focus to the computer. “His body was found three days after Manny Lontoc’s. As you can see, this article doesn’t include a photo, as no one could provide an image of him in life. I contacted the medical examiner and told them I’m working on a story that could help with identification of the remains. The office got back to me this morning. They sent me an autopsy photo along with an artist’s rendering of what John Doe might have looked like when he was alive.”
Cole studied both images. The face was battered and bloated, but the artist was skilled and he guessed had a good eye for the underlying bone structure, which, like Manny Lontoc, appeared to be South Asian.
“The park and medical examiner have been unable to identify the man,” Signe continued. “No one fitting his description has been reported missing, and they have no idea when he entered the park. They estimate he was in his late fifties. He appeared to be undernourished, so it’s really hard to say. He has South Asian facial features, but that’s based on bone structure statistical data and really not reliable. His DNA has been sent for testing. There’s no rush on what appears to be an accidental death, so it’ll probably be a while before results come in.”
“That’s all we know about him?” he asked.
“Sadly, yes.”
“Yet this death is supposedly connected to the climber—Manny Lontoc.”
“According to my informant, yes.”
“The informant whose message you no longer have.” He knew he sounded skeptical, but there was no point in hiding it.
“Vanishing messages are not all that odd in my line of work. I have informants who use special message apps that delete the message as soon as it’s been read. I just didn’t expect it this time or I’d have taken a photo like I did with the coordinates.”
The coordinates. That reminded him. It was time they found out where they were headed.
He rose from the love seat and plucked the brand-new handheld GPS—still in the package—from the bed. The device was top-of-the-line. He’d never used one of these in the field for archaeology but was no stranger to the technology. “We need to set this up. Charge the batteries.”
“Shit. I meant to do that as soon as I got here. But I only got as far as my phone, computer, and cameras.”
It took a few minutes to free the unit from the packaging and plug it in. While he did that, Signe finished her dinner. He was glad to see her eat without him having to nag her. She hadn’t shown much interest in the food even though she’d admitted the dishes were her favorites. If the text she’d received was accurate, she was going to need a lot of fuel for the coming hike.
The GPS unit powered on and he went through the setup menu. Once the Yosemite area maps loaded, he found the menu for wayfinding using coordinates and punched in the numbers Signe had copied on the hotel-provided notepad.
He stared at the screen in surprise. She hardly needed a special guide for this. Or a fancy GPS. She could have looked this up on her laptop, which made him wonder why she hadn’t the moment she received the text. “The meet place for tomorrow is Glacier Point.”
“The overlook with views across the valley?”
“Yep.”
“Well, that makes sense. If I remember correctly, there’s cellular service at Glacier, so I’ll be able to receive texts.”
“Your informant won’t be there in person?”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure whoever it is will be there, which is why we’ll take videos of the crowd.”
