The sheriff laid his hands flat on the table between us. It was a casual gesture that didn’t feel casual at all. “We’re still waiting on forensic analysis and full autopsies,” he said, his knuckles rising slightly off the table, “but I suspect they’ll date the oldest body to the summer of Andrés Cortez’s disappearance.”

My brain latched onto certain words. Body first, then Andrés.

“Now, maybe one of those bodies belongs to Andrés Cortez,” the sheriff allowed, “but between you and me, I doubt it. More important, Gabriel doubts it.”

I found the will and ability to reply. “What are you talking about?”

“Andrés Cortez was an incredible tracker.” The sheriff shifted his weight back in his chair, but somehow, the space between us seemed to shrink. “Gabriel’s brother was downright gifted at wilderness survival, and he worked as a guide on that mountain from the time he was a boy. Do you understand what I’m telling you?” He rapped the table, then spread his fingers flat again. “Somebody took Bella. Somebody killed the people we found yesterday, and I think that person has been living off the grid in the Sierra Glades for years.”

The sheriff shifted his weight again—forward, this time. “When you first joined the search, did Gabriel ask you about your progress? Did he pump you for information? Do you have any reason to believe that he knew of the cave’s existence? Does he think Andrés is alive?”

Each question made it a little harder for me to breathe. The table separating my body from the sheriff’s wasn’t big enough. The room was getting smaller.

“Before Andrés disappeared, he purchased a great deal of wilderness equipment.” The intensity in the sheriff’s voice didn’t match the odd almost-smile on his face. “Enough to spend at least a year out there, trekking the glades.”

A year. I knew that at a certain point, a person stopped needing store-bought supplies to survive. If what Sheriff Rawlins was saying was true, Gabriel’s brother could still be out there, and if he had spent that long in the wilderness, alone, by choice—he might not be in his right mind.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you this, Kira. You’re just a kid. You’re not even a local, but for some reason, you seem to want to protect Gabriel. That’s interesting to me. Gabriel doesn’t have many friends. He’s too volatile. You might even say he’s aggressive.”

The sheriff was a hypocrite. He wanted me to believe that Gabriel was the one who was out of control.

“Loyalty can be a wonderful trait, until it’s misplaced.” The sheriff stared at me. “Misplaced loyalty can be very dangerous.”