It wasn’t that he wasn’t attractive, he just wasn’t my type. I liked guys to be at least a few inches taller than me.

  “Over there yeh’ll see one of our intercity ponds, Golden Rock.” A pond almost as large as a football field lay below what promised to be a breathtaking sunrise breaking over the distant mountains. “Here take these,” he produced a pair of binoculars from his bag in the back seat of the truck, “and tell me what yeh see. Describe everything.”

  I adjusted the lenses carefully to fit my eyes. “I see three fishermen standing shoulder to shoulder on the west bank. They look to be in their sixties. Next to the one furthest to the right are a cooler, a Thermos, and a fold-up chair that looks to have an American flag printed on it.”

  “Dusty and I call them the three amigos. They’re almost always fishing here at sun up. Go on.”

  I searched slowly around the perimeter of the pond, “A flock of geese just landed on the north side and . . . there’s a boat.” I adjusted the binoculars to focus more closely. “It’s a small boat with an electric motor, and there are two men fishing. I can’t see their faces, but they look to be around the same size.”

  I searched for anything else of note, but nothing popped up. “I think that’s it.”

  “Okay,” he held his hand out for the binoculars, “Let me have a go.”

  It was too early in the morning for a test. But at least we weren’t talking about my love life anymore.

  “I see the three amigos. They seem to be at their usual antics. Though there is more around them than a cooler, a thermos, and a chair. They also have tackle boxes and poles with them.” He glanced over at me. “Don’t worry. It’s early.”

  I tried not to roll my eyes. Of course they had tackle boxes and fishing poles, what fisherman didn’t?

  “As far as the geese, yep, they’re definitely there.” He scanned further. “And the boat . . . wait . . . how many fishermen did yeh say were in the boat?”

  “Two.”

  “Take another look,” he handed the binoculars back to me.

  Upon second glance, I could only make out the profile of one fisherman. I watched a bit longer. Maybe the other was leaning down to prepare his line, but after several minutes nothing changed. “I know there were two before.”

  “There is definitely only one person in that boat.” His tone was teasing, and a grin spread over his face. “Maybe yeh need more coffee and less Tinder if you’re starting to conjure up men in your head.”

  “No, I’m serious. There were two men in that boat.” A warning blared in my head. “What if one pushed the other out or something?” A man could be drowning out there, and Seamus was making a joke about it.

  “Calm down, Blondie. I’m sure it was just the sunrise shadows playing tricks on yer eyes. I know yeh came in blazin’ with a murder on yer first day, but those things don’t happen very often. Yeh can’t go makin’ a big deal out of every little thing.”

  “Can I see again?” I asked holding my hand out. Surely there had to be an explanation.

  He obliged and handed the binoculars over. By now the sun was starting to peek up over the mountains and rays of sunlight made it harder and harder to see the details of the boat. “I know I saw two figures. They looked almost identical,” I murmured under my breath.

  “Maybe it was a reflection in the binoculars. You only saw them for a few seconds.”

  The single figure was reeling in his line. The water surrounding him was totally calm—no sign of someone drowning.

  “Can we at least go over there and check it out?” I asked. The man was now heading back to the boat ramp.

  “If it’ll soothe yer mind, sure.” Seamus smiled. “But I’m pretty sure I’m not going to rely on yeh to give me detailed information in the future.” He nudged my arm, and I glared at him. “I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’.” He pushed his aviators back on his face as if he were Tom Cruise in Top Gun and put the truck in gear.

  The three amigos waved when we drove by, their identical white mustaches twitching upward into smiles. “They’re good guys. Retired vets.”

  I nodded, trying to focus on what Seamus was saying, but finding it hard over the pounding of my heart. The water where the boat had previously been anchored was still calm, and the fisherman was loading the boat onto a trailer when we pulled up.

  “Let me do the talking.” He stepped out of the truck before I could respond. “Hey there. How was the fishing this morning?”

  “Not bad. Caught a few little trout. Threw ‘em all back.” The man was huge. He towered over my five foot eight frame, and his bicep was probably as big as my head. “Anyone else have any luck?”

  “Couldn’t say. Haven’t talked to anyone else. Could I see yer fishing license?”

  “Oh sure.” He pulled out his tackle box and produced a folded blue piece of paper. The inside of the tackle box was far from orderly with tangled lures, crusty jars of sticky marshmallow bait, and a few prescription drug bottles.

  “Thank you, Garrett.” Seamus handed the license back. Garrett tossed it in with the rest of the mess, slammed the lid shut, and dropped the box back into his boat next to a large black duffle bag.

  “Do I know you from somewhere?” Garrett asked. I tore my eyes from the contents of the boat and focused on the bearded man in front of me. He had to be in his early thirties.

  My thoughts whirled. Did I know him?

  “Oh, no way,” the guy’s mouth curled into a smile, “You’re the badass ranger on Tinder.” He looked me up and down. “Your profile wasn’t lying. I kinda wish I would’ve swiped right.” He let out a low whistle.

  I didn’t know whether to be flattered or embarrassed. It wasn’t that he wasn’t handsome—he definitely was—but his cocky attitude was a bit off-putting.

  Seamus let out a bray like that of an ass, which was exactly what I wanted to call him at that very moment.

  “Were you fishing alone?” I blurted out, my hands on my hips.

  The guy mimicked my stance. “Yes, but next time you can come with me.”

  Classic deflection. “That’s not why I was—”

  “We’ll let yeh get on with yer day,” Seamus grabbed me by the crook of my arm and pulled me back to the truck.

  “Let me give you my number,” Garrett said.

  Seamus dropped my arm and walked back.

  No.

  He wouldn’t.

  I spun around to see Seamus take a business card Garrett had pulled from the back pocket of his ripped jeans.

  “Call me. We’ll get a drink,” Garrett said with a wink.

  Yeah, not likely.

  “I cannot believe you just did that,” I said as Seamus handed me the card.

  “It’s the least I could do after yeh were so mean to the guy,” Seamus said when we were securely within the truck. “If yeh want to be a trail ranger, yeh need to be cool, calm, and collected. We don’t get our panties in a bunch and go around asking stupid questions.”

  “Did you see the extra rods in his boat? And the jacket and boots?” I threw back at him. “He wasn’t fishing alone.”

  “Most fishermen carry enough gear for several people.” He started back down the trail away from the boat launch area. “Plus I don’t think that boat could have handled two men his size and you did say both men were the same build.”

  I held in the groan threatening to escape my lips. The boat had been rather wimpy, but I knew what I saw . . . At least I thought I did. “He was deflecting. That whole Tinder thing, maybe he was using it to distract us from what was really going on.”

  “There was nothin’ going on. Other than a guy trying to make a pass at yeh. Maybe that’s yer problem, yeh’re too suspicious to get a date.” He looked down at the card in my hand. “Senior Accountant, huh? I’d call him if I were into dudes.”

  The business card gave his name as Garrett Henry and an office number in the ritzy part of town, a cell number, and an email address that contained his first and last name. Maybe I should update my email address from the one I’d had since high school. The one that described my hair color and old zip code. I shook the thought away.

  “But what about the prescription drugs in his tackle box?”

  “Could be for anything. Though I’d be careful dating him. He might have the clap or something.”

  “I am not going to date him,” I said through gritted teeth. “Did you see how messy he was?”

  “Okay, okay. But don’t judge a guy on the state of his fishing gear. If yeh did that, yeh’d never date anyone.”

  Seamus was apparently not going to take me seriously. I tried to calm my pounding heart. The water was still motionless. If someone had been pushed out of the boat, they’d have drowned by now. I looked back at the pond one more time before we turned down another trail and the pond disappeared from sight.

  I turned the business card over in my hand. Senior Accountant. He didn’t seem like the accountant type to me. His hair was too long, his beard unkempt. Every accountant I’d met was clean shaven and wore glasses.

  “Let’s head over to the playground and check to see if anyone’s taken up residence in the restroom. Then maybe we’ll do some snake handling drills. If yeh want to get the full-time position, yeh’ll need to work on taming the slithery beasts.” Seamus maneuvered the truck down the winding pathway with million dollar houses to our left and a creek to our right. “The people in these houses are always watching. Regardless of what yeh do on this path, the higher-ups will know.”

  “Why even come down this path then?” I glanced over to find a man who was at least eighty on the back deck of one house and what looked like a middle-aged woman peeking from behind the curtains of another.

  “Have to. They report if we’re not here too.” He waved to the peeping woman, and she quickly closed the curtains.

  “What’s that?” I pointed to what looked like it could be a large dog lying in the middle of the concrete about twenty yards ahead.

  “We better check it out.” He pulled up closer and veered the truck off the concrete into the mowed shoulder. “Get out yer pepper spray, just in case.”

  I pulled the canister out and made sure I had it pointed the right way so I didn’t accidentally spray myself if I needed to use it.

  Seamus stepped out of the truck, and I followed. He readied his asp—a telescoping baton—as it was the best option between the two weapons the full-time rangers were allowed to carry—an asp and pepper spray.

  “Hello?” Seamus said as he approached what I could now see was clearly not a dog. He poked at what looked like a fuzzy blanket covering something. “Yeh ready?”

  I nodded and held the can in front of me taking aim.

  Seamus stuck the end of his asp under the blanket and lifted.

  It took a minute for my brain to register what my eyes were seeing but once they did, there was no unseeing it.

  A small man, probably around the age of twenty, lay curled in a ball in a pool of what I assumed to be his blood.

  “Bloody hell.” Seamus let the blanket drop back over the body and called into his mic, “Yeah we got a code fifty-five at mile seven on the Golden Rock Trail.”

  “Copy, we’ll send a unit,” the dispatcher replied.

  Seamus rubbed the back of his neck. He turned his attention to me. “Yeh’s a right ol’ shit magnet, Blondie.”

  4

  The police arrived within twenty minutes, and within thirty, Luke pulled up.

  “Looks like your wish came true,” I muttered so only he could hear.

  “I didn’t really want someone to die.” Luke shook his head. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I’m not sure. It was my first trail patrol, and Seamus was showing me the ropes.” I motioned to where Seamus talked with one of the officers. “We saw the three amigos down by Golden Rock Pond, a boat with one or two men—I couldn’t say at this point.”

  Luke furrowed his brow, but I dismissed it with a wave.

  “It was one . . . probably. Anyway, we were driving down this trail and came upon this heap. I thought it might be a dog.” I pursed my lips looking to where one of the paramedics stood over the body shaking his head. “Seamus used the tip of his asp to pull up the blanket, and when we saw the blood, he put the blanket back down and called you guys.”

  “Do you recognize the deceased?”

  “I didn’t get a good look at him.” The look on Luke’s face gave me pause. “Wait. Should I recognize him?”

  “He was one of the people of interest in the Boy Boy escape.”

  “And now he’s dead?”

  My gaze darted to the area around us. Boy Boy could be anywhere just waiting to kill again.

  “Does that mean . . ?”

  “I need you to be careful, Ry. This guy’s not like Kyle. He’s a known killer. He’ll do whatever’s necessary to stay out of prison.”

  I nodded. “Don’t worry. There’s not even a small part of me that wants to help catch Boy Boy.”

  “Good.” Luke moved as if to put his arm around me but stopped himself. “I should get back to the investigation.”

  My heart dropped. “Seamus and I should be getting back too. Shayla’s probably waiting on me at the shop to work out.”

  “It’s great you and Shayla have become so close. She needed a good friend.”

  “I needed one too.”

  Luke’s brown eyes made me want to wrap my arms around his neck and nuzzle my cheek against his chest like I had so many times in high school.

  “Sorry Nikki and I messed up your night last night.”

  And, in an instant, my warm and fuzzy feelings evaporated. “You didn’t. We just thought we’d try a different place. Shayla set me up on Tinder which seems like it could work.”

  “Oh yeah?” Luke rocked back on his heels. “You’ve already met someone?”

  “Yep.” Kinda, if the fisherman counted. “He seems pretty great.” And cocky. Someone who would give Luke a run for his money. Hmmm . . .

  “Well, that’s great.” His tone didn’t sound like he thought it was great. Before he could say anything else, his cell phone rang in his pocket. “I should probably—“

  “Yeah, you get that. I’ll see you later.”

  I thumbed the business card in my pocket. What would one little date hurt?

  The first thing I did when my shift was over was pull up the Tinder app and look for Garrett’s profile. I swiped and swiped and swiped but came up empty handed. It must have taken him out of my dating pool when he swiped left.

  So instead I pulled up Facebook.

  What little I could see of his profile seemed fairly normal. His profile picture looked like him minus the beard he’d been sporting this morning. And there weren’t any random photos of him with other girls. At least not public ones.

  I pulled out the business card and typed the cell number into the new text message box. My thumb hovered over the screen. What would I say?

  The last first date I had been on was over five years ago, with the man I’d found in my bed embracing a long-necked woman the same day I’d lost my job, and my world flipped upside down.

  Hey Garrett, it’s Rylie the park ranger. How about that drink?

  I closed my eyes, held my breath, and tapped the send button.

  Shayla texted me later that night.

  another dead body

  Ugh. Yes.

  was Luke there

  Yep.

  you’re not going to try to investigate this one, right

  No way. Too dangerous.

  good. how’s the tinder hunt

  I have a date tomorrow night.

  is he cute

  Above average.

  perfect

  I dropped my phone on the nightstand next to my bed and hugged Fizzy around the neck. Garrett had responded almost immediately asking me to dinner rather than drinks, and I replied with a ‘yes’ before I could talk myself out of it.

  “So tell me everything.”

  Shayla and I had been scheduled to open the reservoir together. She held her travel coffee mug, and I held my Starbucks as we waited to open the gates until exactly 5:00 AM.

  “Yesterday, I saw a boat with what I could swear was two guys in it”—I had to let that go—“but when Seamus looked through the binoculars there was only one. So we talked to the guy, and he recognized me from Tinder. Though he had already swiped left.”

  Shayla shook her head. “That’s no big deal. It was probably an accident. And you hit it off?”

  “Kinda. I guess.” I really didn’t want to tell her I had initially thought he had thrown someone overboard.

  “But you agreed to go out with him?”

  “Yeah, I mean, I figure he’s cute enough, and I sorta told Luke I’d already found someone on Tinder.”

  “Luke.” She shook her head. “Please tell me you’re not going out with this guy to make Luke jealous?”

  “Not completely.” I smirked. “Who knows. Maybe Luke and I aren’t meant to be together.”

  Shayla shrugged. “Seamus has taken to call you the shit magnet.”

  “I don’t know whether that’s better or worse than Blondie.” I smiled. It was nice to be part of a team again. I missed the playful banter I’d had at the fire department.

  “It’s scary Boy Boy is on the loose,” Shayla said.

  “On the loose and murdering people, apparently.”

  “And you’re going to keep your nose out of this one, right?”

  I gave her an exasperated look. “Yes. I told you that last night.”

  “Just making sure you hadn’t changed your mind.”

  “Boy Boy’s not like Kyle. I’m not exactly equipped to handle him.”

 

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