2018
“You saw her fall?” the ranger asked.
“No.”
“What were you doing, then?”
“I was—I was taking a leak, okay? I was back in the trees, and I couldn’t see her.”
“What was she doing so close to the edge?”
“I don’t know. I took her picture, then went to piss. And I heard her scream.”
“And after she fell, you looked over the side?”
“Yeah. I crawled out and looked down.”
“Crawled?”
“I’m scared of heights,” Matt said. He closed his eyes. “But I didn’t see her. It was too dark, and there was the water—”
“Yeah, the Three Forks River runs right under that cliff,” the ranger said. “Water level’s pretty high right now, so she was most likely swept off in the current.”
“Where would it have taken her?”
“River’s moving quick, so if she survived the fall it would’ve taken her south.” The park ranger pushed his hat back and wiped his forehead. It was completely dark but still warm, and he was sweating just standing in the parking lot. “It’s not going to be any use scouting the river while the sun’s down—it’s a dangerous hike down in the dark, and you can’t see anything that might float by. A rescue team would run the risk of injury or getting lost. It’s not worth it.”
“But if Marie swam out of the river and made it to shore—”
The ranger sighed. He’d worked at the park for almost fifteen years, he’d seen plenty of city folk come out to spend a day in the wild, to hike and take pictures, and it never failed to surprise him how stupid they could be. He’d heard it all: a woman had once suggested that the steeper trails be outfitted with escalators so people could enjoy the views from the top without a hard hike; or one time he’d been asked what they did with all the animals during the winter. And this situation was stupid, too, but it was also sad.
“Let me be completely honest, Mr. Evans,” he said. “I’m familiar with the cliff your wife fell from, and there’s no way she could’ve survived. Not from that high, and not with the river moving that fast. We’ll have to start searching for her body first thing in the morning.”