Angels Fall

or black. But brown, I think. Long brown hair. Wavy. And she had on a red jacket and a hat. Cap."
    Rick swiveled to look back at Brody. "What did you see?"
    "Reece." Brody moved back to the pot, topped off his mug. "She was about a quarter mile up the trail from me when she stopped. Couldn't have seen the spot where this happened from where I was sitting if I'd been looking that way."
    Mardson pulled on his lower lip. "You weren't together."
    "No. Like Reece said, she went by where I was working, we had a couple of words, and she kept going. I headed up maybe close to an hour after, ran into her running back. She told me what happened, and I hiked back up to where she'd been."
    "You see anything then?"
    "No. You want to know the spot, I'll get a map, show you where."
    "Appreciate that, Brody. Reece," Rick continued when Brody walked out, "did you see any boat, car, truck? Anything like that?"
    "I didn't. I guess I looked for a boat, sort of, but I didn't see one. I thought they must've been camping, but I didn't see any equipment or a tent. I just saw them. I just saw him choking her."
    "Tell me everything you can about him. Just whatever comes to your mind," he prompted. "You never know what you're going to pick up, what you're going to remember."
    "I wasn't paying attention, not really. He was white—I'm pretty sure. I saw his hands, but he had gloves on. Black or brown. But his profile… I'm sure he was white. I suppose he might've been Hispanic, or Native American. It was so far away, even with the binoculars, and at first I was just passing the time. Then she slapped him. Slapped him twice. The second time she did, he shoved her, or hit her. She went down. It all happened so fast. He had a black jacket. A dark jacket and one of those orange, reddish-orangeish hunting caps."
    "Okay, that's a good start. How about his hair?"
    "I don't think I noticed." She wanted to shiver. It had been like this before. The questions she simply couldn't answer. " The hat would ve covered it, I guess, and his coat. I don't think it was long. I yelled, screamed maybe. But they couldn't hear. I had my camera, right in my pack, but I never thought of it. I just froze, then I just ran."
    "I guess you could've jumped into the river, tried to swim across it, then dragged him off to the authorities with the power of your will."' Brody's comment was careless as he came back in with a map of the area. Brody laid the map on the table, pointed with his finger. "Here."
    "You sure about that?"
    "I am."
    "Okay, then." Rick nodded, pushed to his feet. "I'm going out there right now, see what there is to see. Don't you worry, Reece, we're going to take care of this. I'll get back to you. Meanwhile, I want you to think back through it. Anything comes to you, anything at all. even if it doesn't seem important, I want to hear about it. Okay now?"
    "Yes. Yes. okay. Thanks."
    After nodding to Brody, Rick picked up his hat and headed out.
    "Well." Reece let out a long sigh. "Do you think he can… Is he capable?"
    "I haven't seen anything to make me think otherwise. It's mostly drunk and disorderlies around here, a few domestic disputes, kids shoplifting, scuffles. But he handles them. And there's lost or injured hikers or boaters, rock climbers, traffic crap and so on when the tourists come in. He seems to do the job. He's… dedicated, would be the term."
    "But murder. Murder's different."
    "Maybe, but he's the guy in charge here. And since it happened outside town limits, he'll have to call in the county or state. You saw what you saw, you reported it, gave your statement. Nothing else for you to do."
    "No, nothing else." Like before, she thought, nothing else to do. "I guess I'll go. Thanks for… all of it." she said as she got up from the table.
    "Nothing else for me to do, either. I'll drive you home."
    "You don't have to bother. I can walk."
    "Don't be stupid." He hauled up her backpack and headed out of the kitchen toward the front.
    Because she felt stupid. Recce dragged on her jacket and followed. He strode straight out, not giving her the time she might have liked to study and gauge his home. She had a quick impression of simplicity, casual disorder and what she thought of as the habitat of the single male.
    No flowers, tchotchkes. throw pillows or softening touches in the living area she passed through. A couch, a single chair, a couple tables and what she saw was a cozy stone-taced fireplace dominating the far wall.
    There was an