The boards of the bridge creaked under my feet as I walked across. I took a few deep breaths to prepare my lungs for the climb ahead. Once on the other side, I whistled for Pickles to follow.
During the entire ascent, Pickles alternated between leading the pack and stopping to allow Rita and me to catch up. He frequently sniffed the ground and the air, his tail pointing towards the sky.
My gaze swept from side to side and my ears strained to listen for any unusual noises. The memory of someone shooting at us on the previous journey up the same mountain replayed in my mind. I tried to draw a parallel between the two experiences, but couldn’t find a clear connection. Did the shooter have anything to do with Nick Shiner’s death? Did the man Janie talked to find Hank, and did the man have an
