"I'd say so, Father. By the way, you are a pastor, as well?"

He uttered what I took to be a laugh. "That's what some people around here call me. I'm a woodward, a park ranger, but I like to think of myself as the father to these here woods." He did a circular motion with his arm, and it was as if a sailboat boom whooshed over my head.

You're a fucking Forest Person, aren't you? I thought.

Aloud, I said, "That's what I like to hear! You sound just like the person I'm looking for here. What do you think? Could you tell me, perhaps, about Mr. Crown?"

The change in his face was momentary, but I glimpsed it nonetheless: his upper lip twitched, making the smile into a snarl, and his eyes opened a little wider, and the snapshot of that expression in my mind painted him as a complete fucking maniac.

But the next moment, the friendly smile returned, and he said, "I see you're equipped for the weather, so, why don't we take a walk and I can even show you the trail we think he disappeared on?"

I chuckled. "That sounds creepy, but I'm in."

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