“That bear wasn’t sneaking into people’s yards.” “No jokes, Caleb.” “I’ll come tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll start with the prints.” The next afternoon, Caleb arrived in a beat-up SUV coated in mud and pine needles. He wore hiking boots, a weathered canvas jacket, and a pack slung across his back that clinked faintly when he moved.
Lisa met him outside. He gave her a quiet, knowing look. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week.” “I haven’t.” “You ready for a hike?” “As long as it ends with answers.” They started at Kevin’s backyard. Caleb knelt by the footprint site and examined the ground closely.