My phone rang and I thought it’d be Bryce, but it wasn’t. “What can I do for you, Chief?”
Colton Myers was the chief of police back in Wyoming. His call wasn’t unusual, because they often called me and my brothers when there were cases the local PD couldn’t solve. “I need your help,” he replied, his voice shaking.
The cab driver pulled up to the airport entrance and I passed him a wad of bills before getting out. “What’s going on? I’m about to get on a flight to head home.”
“Good. I’ll drop these files off with Reed, so you can see them when you get back.”
The din of the bustling city made it hard to hear him, but I could tell he was distraught. “Files for what?”
He sighed heavily. “You know how there’ve been missing hikers in Montana?”
“Yeah, I saw something about it before I left for New York.” It wasn’t uncommon for tourists to sway from the hiking trails or test their limits by doing stupid shit. Most of those people found themselves dead. I liked to climb the cliffs, but I was good at it.