Page 5 of Devoured By the Forbidden Mountain Man

We returned to work without turning the moment into something heavier.

By late afternoon, rain ticked steadily against the windows and darkness had begun settling early beneath the clouds. Rex switched on another lamp while I worked through an archive shelf so I could understand how closed recovery records were stored before changing anything.

He answered emails at his desk, occasionally sliding another piece of paper toward me or explaining an abbreviation. Comfortable silence had replaced the careful conversation from the beginning of the afternoon.

I pulled a thick folder from the shelf and stopped.

DEAN, GAVIN.

The tab was yellowed slightly at the edge. I knew the name would be there somewhere. Seeing it in my hand was different.

Rex looked up from his computer when I carried the folder to the second desk.

“I didn’t know you still kept this here.”

“I hold on to certain closed recovery files when something about the work may be useful later.”

I opened the folder.

Gavin’s old photograph appeared first. He had been twenty-five when it was taken, with thick dark hair, warm brown eyes, and the same shape around the eyes and mouth that I saw in my own face. Seven years had altered everyone connected to the case except the brother preserved on that page.

I turned past paperwork I recognized and notes I didn’t.

Rex stayed at his desk rather than coming to stand over my shoulder. The space made it easier to keep reading.

I skimmed contact logs, addresses, recovery attempts, and names of people who had been interviewed or checked until one name slowed me down: Meredith Stokes.

I read the short entry twice. It identified her as a Lantern House employee and witness contact connected to the original confrontation.

A memory came with it.

“Meredith worked at the Lantern House.”

Rex’s chair shifted. “You knew her?”

“Not personally.” I kept my finger beside the name. “Gavin mentioned her before everything happened. Her boyfriend—or ex-boyfriend by then, I think—treated her badly. Gavin was worried about her.”

Rex came around the desk but stopped across from me, leaving the folder between us.

“She witnessed the earlier confrontation between Gavin and Brad Noland that night. She was one of the people contacted during the investigation, and I spoke with her again while I was trying to locate Gavin.”

I looked at the recovery note. “Did she give you anything useful?”

“Nothing that led to him. I reported every factual concern I had to law enforcement, but I didn’t have evidence of another crime or a reason to treat her differently from the other people connected to the night.”

The first spark of old anger cooled before it could catch.

“What bothered you about Gavin disappearing?”

Rex rested one hand on the back of the empty chair across from me before answering.

“He vanished too cleanly. People who run usually leave habits behind. They call the wrong person, use money badly, return somewhere familiar, or make a rushed decision that creates a trail. Gavin didn’t give me much of that.”

I thought about my brother, who could repair almost anything with a motor, a hinge, or a pipe and who had spent half his life anticipating problems before they reached me.

“You noticed that at the time?”

“Yes. I kept looking for something actionable, but being suspicious of how well somebody disappeared isn’t evidence by itself.”