River of No Return : A Jake Trent Novel (9781451698053) by David Riley Bertsch

towering alpine peaks of the Wind River Range. The sun hung on the western horizon. Jake watched the sceneryfor the last hundred miles or so into Jackson. There was a dusting of new snow at higher elevations.
    As the plane banked hard to approach from the north, the town of Jackson came into view above Snow King, the town’s ski hill. The plane bounced hard as it landed because of the short approach and small runway. Its rapid deceleration didn’t affect Jake’s stomach much. He was feeling almost 100 percent. As the plane taxied, he texted J.P. He looked for a message or missed call from Schue, but there was none.
    The ski lodge–esque airport was tiny. Two baggage claims, though there were plans for more. More space for ever more visitors. October wasn’t tourist season, so the building would be quiet today. Mostly families waiting to greet kids, brothers, or spouses. The “shoulder seasons” were when the locals traveled.
    Jake descended the stairs out of the plane and onto the tarmac. There was a cold breeze, but the arid mountain air felt refreshing. It blew through his clothes, taking the swampiness of travel and overcrowded spaces away from him.
    He set his backpack down and fished out his old Costa Del Mar Peninsula sunglasses. The Fin and Feather was a dozen miles to the west, and the setting sun was still bright above the Tetons.
    After taking a long look at the Tetons, Jake followed the delineated path toward the terminal. Various animal tracks were painted on the tarmac trail: moose, bear, and wolf—a dash of whimsy for the children.
    J.P. was waiting just sixty feet inside the entrance, as close as you could get. Jake smiled at him and gave him a nod. J.P. just stared back. He was nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot.
    When Jake approached, he roughly took the backpack from him, eager to get going.
    â€œDid you check a bag?”
    â€œProbably already delivered to the Fin and Feather.” This was one luxury of a small town.
    â€œPerfect.”
    J.P. hurried out the front entrance, and Jake followed. J.P. had left his rusty old Ford pickup in the drop-off lane. Airport security was writing him a ticket, and upon seeing J. P., began berating him.
    â€œYou can’t leave your vehicle here unattended, J.P. See the signs? What the hell? This isn’t the brew pub; you have to respect me at work. It’s a matter of national security.”
    â€œFuck off, Mike, it’s an emergency. You’re a secret agent now? You Instagram pictures of your weed stash, you dumbass.”
    â€œTake the damned ticket.” Mike looked around nervously.
    â€œYou stoner!” J.P. was shouting to make a scene.
    â€œAll right. Calm down.” Jake walked up to the front of the truck and took the ticket. That made two in three days.
    â€œThanks, Jake,” Mike said. “He can be a real ass.”
    Jake disagreed with that on principle, but didn’t want to cause any more trouble.
    â€œSorry.”
    Jake climbed in, and J.P. pulled into the stream of taxi traffic by holding his left hand out of the window and signaling the taxi drivers to stop. They honked.
    J.P. frantically recited the details about Esma as soon as they were moving. He explained the email he had read a few hours before.
    â€œI knew she didn’t ditch me, man—what we have is real. It’s love. I’ve got to find her, Jake. I have a bad feeling about this.”
    â€œI’m on it. And it’s probably nothing. Hopefully we will have some answers soon.” Jake explained how he was trying to track the cell phone. J.P. seemed amazed by the technology.
    â€œYou never disappoint,” he said.
    They passed a sign: THANKS FOR VISITING GRAND TETON NATIONAL PARK. Jake thought of Noelle.
    â€œI wish that were true.”

15
    TRAM VILLAGE, CHINA. OCTOBER 21.
    8 A.M. BEIJING TIME.
    The alarm buzzed and Terrell startled awake. It was 8 a.m. The night before, the chief and