to look. I called nine-one-one. Really.”
“Why were you here?”
“I was biking home. Down there.” He pointed to where his bike lay in the grass alongside the road. “From work. From Yasmin’s. I smelled it.” He could hear the Bry cadences of his voice, but there was also a shake in his throat trying to come out. Short phrases were easier. “I swear.”
“Bu-u-ullshit,” Odell drawled, his gun still half raised at his side.
“Now, Odell,” the sheriff said. “Think about it. How could he have done this on foot, with just a rope? That took a lot of power.”
“So there was others,” the man said. “They left him behind.”
“No! I was at work!” He pointed toward where his phone should be. His finger wavered, and he clasped his hands together against his chest. “I called nine-one-one. I did.”
“With a rope?” Odell mocked him.
“With my phone. The person said hello. The rope was up there. It grabbed my ankle. I dropped my phone.”
Another cop car screamed up the hill and pulled in behind them. The deputy who got out was tall, dark, and powerfully built. He strode over, flicking looks between Brian and Odell’s gun. “Hey, Sheriff. What do you need?”
“Hang on a minute. I have a job for you.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and turned to Brian. “All right. I’ll call your phone so we can find it and confirm that. What’s your number?”
His mind went totally scrambled, an ocean of numbers, all bobbing around like floaty toys, bumping into each other. “I don’t know.” Damon had taught him to add, “I don’t call myself. No one calls themself. It’s a new phone. Newish.”
“Mm.” She gave him another of those considering looks. He couldn’t decide if he should be Bry or be clearly not-Bry. Shakes and nausea warred inside him. He couldn’t find more words. Eventually she glanced down to scroll her screen, tapped the phone, and put it to her ear. “Yasmin? It’s Sheriff Gannet. Do you have a cell number for Brian Carlson…? No, no problem, he lost his phone… Sure.”
There was a moment of waiting, a ping like a text, more taps of the sheriff’s long finger. “I’m dialing it,” she told him.
“Good, yes.”
Up on the hillside, the sheep-baaing that Nick had programmed in for a joke, that Brian couldn’t figure out how to change, bleated plaintively.
The sheriff pressed her lips like she was holding back a smile. “Deputy, go fetch that phone. Stay out of the firefighters’ way. Use gloves. And there’s a rope up there. Take a picture, see if it’s loose but be careful. The other end might be burning.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He jumped the ditch and ran up the hill, pulling plastic gloves out of a pocket. The sheep went quiet and the sheriff dialed again. On top of the ridge, the deputy stopped, stooped and fumbled around for a minute doing stuff, then loped back down toward them.
“Hey, how’re the firemen doing with things?” Odell asked as the big man neared them.
“They got a hose goin’ now from the other side. Looks like they’re getting it damped down.”
“Thank the Lord.”
“Yeah. Bad time of year for a fire.” The deputy turned to Sheriff Gannet, holding out Brian’s phone in one blue-gloved hand. “Got it, ma’am. The rope runs toward the tower, and it’s stuck somewhere. Didn’t come loose when I pulled. I took a couple pictures.”
She didn’t reach for the phone. “Is there a lock code?” she asked Brian.
“No.”
The deputy gave Brian a look like he was kind of disgusted. Damon would be too. I’m supposed to lock things. But he hated the damned code and asked Nick to take it off.
The sheriff said, “Get the recent calls list.”
“Yes’m.”
Brian had a feeling he should object to them taking over his phone. Damon’s voice was shouting in his head, “They need a warrant.” But after all, the call to 911 would be right there, and then it would all be okay. Right?
He watched as the deputy clicked a couple of buttons and held it for his boss to see. The light was fading, and the phone was a bright spot in the dimness. Salvation? Trouble? He moved closer to see and Odell raised his gun. “Don’t try anything!”
“It’s my phone.” But he stood still and kept his hands high. I hate guns, Hate, hate them. And Nick will kill me if I get shot.
The sheriff said, “Odell, point that damned thing at the ground. He’s not going anywhere.” She used her own phone to