As my eyes slitted with pleasure and my thoughts focused inward, the canopy above me blurred into a kaleidoscope of green and shadows and dappled sunlight.
Shadows tore through the pattern. Black wings fluttered in the trees above us. Angry birds screamed out a warning.
Carrion birds. That was the image that flashed to mind.
Carrion birds with yellow beaks tipped in blood.
Caught off guard by a living nightmare, my eyes flew wide open, and my body tensed as I fought the impulse to panic. A cry, almost stifled, escaped my lips.
It was not a sound of satisfaction.
Chad lifted his head. Looked anxiously down at me.
I don’t know what he saw in my face. And for my part, I couldn’t put a name to the emotions I saw slide across his. But he tugged my shirt back down over my breasts and shifted away from me.
The crows continued flapping and cawing out an alarm, alerting each other to some threat to their flock.
Between Chad and me there was silence.
As we sat up, we were careful not to touch each other, careful not to meet each other’s eyes.
I wrapped my arms around myself, fighting my body’s reaction to frustrated desire. But if Chad hadn’t called a halt to our lovemaking, I knew that I would have. Months earlier, I’d had a good reason for sending him from my bed and insisting that we had no future together as lovers. Nothing about that had changed. Except that, in recent days, the situation seemed even worse. Yet knowing all that, I’d still stepped over the line I’d drawn for myself. And for Chad.
As I cursed myself for being a weak, self-indulgent fool, Chad’s hand moved to his right cheek again. But this time his fingers deliberately sought the bandage protecting the wound on his cheek. In it, he seemed to find inspiration.
He spat out a bitter accusation.
“If I hadn’t stopped, what exactly was that going to be? More first aid? A little sympathy sex for the ex-boyfriend?”
That’s when I looked straightforwardly into his angry green eyes. I’d hurt him, I thought, and not just today. If he now despised me, I deserved it. But I had to tell him the truth. At least, about this.
“It was more than that,” I said softly. “Not at all as trivial as you’re making it out to be. But, yes, it was a mistake. My mistake. And I’m sorry.”
It was troubling that he forgave me so quickly. That his next words carried no hint of rebuke. Or inquiry. Just resignation.
“I don’t understand…about us,” he said.
For the briefest moment, he extended his hand, almost touched my face. Then he curled his fingers back into a fist, dropped his arm to his side. Quickly, he rose to his feet and turned away as he spent a minute or two buttoning, zipping and tucking.
Just as well. Because I spent that time dashing away tears I didn’t want him to see.
He turned back in my direction when his clothing was neat again.
“Can we still be friends?” he asked almost brusquely.
I nodded, managed a shaky smile.
And I wasn’t lying to him. At least not about today or even tomorrow. But I knew now that our friendship was doomed. Had finally admitted to myself what I’d been so determined to deny. Chad and I would never stop wanting to be more than just friends. More that just lovers.
Only I understood why that was impossible.
Chapter 15
We hiked to the crime scene.
For a moment we stood silently in front of the big cottonwood tree, our eyes drawn to the vine-shrouded split in its massive trunk. Chad’s hand crept up to the scar on his cheek, his expression signaling that his thoughts were on what he hadn’t found there. My thoughts were likely as bleak as Chad’s as I considered what had been found. A murdered woman’s remains and a corroded inhaler. And I feared that Katie’s mind held more answers than this scene—or the forensics report—would be likely to provide.
“Do you still want to do this?” I asked.
Chad dropped his hand, shrugged.
“Why not?” he said. “We’ve come this far. And who knows? We might just find something relevant.”
I thought, Why not? And then I said, “Okay. Let’s get to it.”
After that, whatever else was on our minds became secondary as we focused on familiar technical issues. The first was finding a safe place to descend. With the big cottonwood tree as our starting point, we walked in opposite directions along the edge of the ravine, peering