I try to focus on what Bryan tells me, but my mind keeps drifting to Ethan. I think he’s giving me a history of the area, or maybe of the townspeople. The truck revs and bounces up the slope of the mountain until the narrow trail levels off. Bryan stops the engine and grins at me.
“This is called Lover’s Lookout.”
He wiggles his eyebrows and I laugh, shaking my head. “Don’t make me regret coming up here.”
Bryan laughs, opening his door. “Come on, you’ll get a better view from up here.”
I follow him down a short, narrow pathway until the trees suddenly stop and a rickety-looking, rusty handrail separates us from a long, steep fall. My chest immediately feels hollow and I stop well back from the handrail. Bryan turns back to me and grins.
“Come on, Randall,” he says. “You afraid of heights?”
“I didn’t think I was, but my heart feels like it just fell into my stomach. This is supposed to be romantic?”
I inch my way forward and peer over the edge, testing the handrail with two fingers. It doesn’t move. I grab it with my hand and try to shake it, surprised to find it solidly anchored into the stone below. Bryan looks at me with an eyebrow raised.
“Satisfied?”
“For now,” I laugh. He points to the mountains, naming them all for me. He points out the Ranger Station, the site of the fire, the McCoy hotel, and any other landmarks that I might know.
It’s breathtaking. Lush, green forests crawl up the mountains. Scraggly, rocky peaks poke out the top of their green blankets, with clouds hugging the jagged peaks. The town of Lang Creek looks like a sleepy bunch of houses, with a river winding gently through the bottom of the valley where the town was built. Smoke curls from two or three chimneys.
The only mar on the landscape is the site of the fire. Even a year later, the charred remains of the construction site are clearly visible. My mind drifts back to my conversation with Katie, which was interrupted just as she started telling me about the Clarke brothers and the mess of rumors that surround their family.
I nod my chin to the fire site. “So why does everyone think the Clarke brothers did that?” I try to sound as casual as possible, and I think I succeed until I see Bryan tense. He might not be as forthcoming as Katie.
Bryan keeps his eyes on the charred mark across from us and shrugs. His voice is even when he speaks.
“There’s always rumors about those boys,” he says, waving his hand lazily. “When Dominic married Mara, it was the biggest thing since Brangelina.”
I snort, wondering how long it takes for celebrity news to make it to this little town in the mountains.
“Why was it such a big deal?”
Bryan chuckles, almost to himself, and then whistles as he turns around, leaning on the rusty railing. My eyes widen and my heart does that jump again, and I try to step away from the railing. He sees my nervousness and chuckles, leaning a little bit more into the rail.
“Why don’t you step away from the rail,” I say, trying to hide the nervousness in my voice.
“What, this railing?” he asks, shaking it with his hand.
My heart leaps. “You’re insane,” I say.
My heart is racing as I watch him so close to the edge. Finally he shakes his head and pushes himself off, clapping me on the shoulder and laughing.
“You’re alright, Randall. I wasn’t sure about you at first, but I like you.”
I roll my eyes. “Gee, thanks.”
Bryan grins and I can’t help but smile back. It almost feels like I’ve made a friend. He turns around and takes one last look at the view before heading back up the wooded path to our truck.
“The McCoys and the Clarkes had been feuding ever since Old Man Clarke died,” he says, turning his head so I can hear him over his shoulder. “It would have been, oh, I guess about a decade ago.”
I make a noise, trying to hide the intense curiosity that’s erupted in my stomach. Bryan doesn’t seem to notice. We get to the truck and he pauses, turning to me and lowering his voice as he leans against the vehicle.
“It all came to a head when the new hotel was being built. It came to light,” he says, glancing around the forest as if there might be someone listening in this secluded corner of the mountains. “That the McCoys had part ownership of the new hotel. Well,” he whistles. “That didn’t sit right with anyone.”
“So why does everyone assume the Clarkes did it?”
Bryan looks at me and frowns, as if he hadn’t even considered the possibility that it wasn’t the brothers.
“Who else would do it?” he laughs. “You’ve met Dominic, right?” I nod. He shrugs as if to say, ‘there you go.’
“Right, but was there any actual evidence? Seems to me like it fits nicely into this whole feud narrative.”
Bryan grunts and heads over to the driver’s side of the truck. We get in and he turns it on. Before putting the car in gear, he pauses. He looks over at me and seems to consider something.
“After the hotel burned down, Mara McCoy came back. She and Dominic shacked up, and Mrs. McCoy – Mara’s mother – left town in a hurry.”
I wait, because I don’t know what to say. What does Mrs. McCoy leaving have anything to do with any of this?
“No one’s heard from her. Left her husband, her businesses, her daughter. Everything.” Bryan puts the car in gear and starts driving. He stares out the windscreen, his eyes narrowing as he navigates on the narrow, overgrown logging roads. “Now you tell me that it’s not suspicious. If you ask me, she found out what her daughter’s new boyfriend did, and couldn’t face the idea of accepting him into her family.”
“Mara and Dominic seemed happy when I saw them. Wouldn’t that tear them apart if it were true?”
“Maybe,” Bryan replies.
“Wouldn’t it be more logical that Mrs. McCoy did it, and she ran away afterward? Did she get an insurance payout? She could be living it up in Mexico or something!”
“Maybe,” Bryan repeats. He doesn’t look over at me, and I chew my lip. There has to be some other explanation. Surely Ethan wouldn’t be capable of arson?! And then for the two families to be united in marriage? It just doesn’t make sense.
He told me he didn’t do it.
Or maybe I just don’t want it to make sense. I want to find something – anything – that will distance Ethan from this crime.
He told me he didn’t do it, and I have to believe him. Every time I’m near him, my stomach does backflips and my heart starts thumping. The thought of him lying to me makes me want to roll down the window and throw up as we drive back toward the Ranger’s office.
Bryan is quiet for most of the drive back, and I’m grateful for it. When we pull up to the station, he turns to me.
“So are you investigating this fire?”
“What? I… no. Not really. I’m mostly just auditing your safety procedures to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“You’re not trying to find who did it?”
“I mean, that would help in the whole procedures. If I know how it happened, then we can work on having it not happen again.”
“Do you want my advice?” His eyes soften, and his voice drops as he speaks. My throat starts to tighten and I no longer trust my voice, so I just nod.
“Don’t ask too many questions. People think a certain way here, and you coming in here causing a commotion isn’t going to change anything. Don’t worry about the fire. Just write your reports and forget about the whole thing.”
My heart is thumping, and I consider his words. He holds my gaze for a few more moments, and then his face lightens.
“But what do I know? I’m just an adrenaline junkie with an affinity for rusty old handrails,” he laughs. “Come on, Sandy’ll kill me if you’re late for the meeting this afternoon.”
I grin at him, but my mind is still spinning circles around me. When I go back inside, I glance at Ethan’s desk and surprise myself when I feel a sense of relief at his empty chair. I need to think, and it’s impossible to do that when his perfect body is anywhere near me.