Should Have Brought a Picnic Basket

I didn’t remember leaving the school.

One minute I was parked across the street, Jessica in my passenger seat, smiling like she knew something I didn’t. A gun low in her hand. My world tilting on its axis.

The next, I was halfway across town with no memory of the drive.

I kept moving.

Left turns. Right turns. Straight lines that didn’t lead anywhere except away from where I’d been. If I stopped, I’d have to think—and thinking wasn’t doing me any favors.

You don’t even know what she is.

The words sat in my head like a splinter I couldn’t dig out.

Rachel.

What had she been involved in?

What had I married?

I tightened my grip on the wheel and forced myself to breathe. In the movies, this is where something would happen. A clue. A message. A moment of clarity waiting at the next stoplight.

Instead, I got nothing.

Just me. Driving in circles. Falling behind.

Sasha shifted in the back seat and let out a low, impatient whine.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I hear you.”

I glanced around, finally taking in my surroundings.

Hollowbrook Park.

I didn’t remember deciding to come here either, but it made a certain kind of sense. Trails. Trees. Space to think without people watching.

Or at least, fewer people.

I pulled into the lot and cut the engine. For a moment, I just sat there, listening to it tick as it cooled.

A black sedan sat beneath the trees at the far end of the lot. Someone was behind the wheel, but I couldn’t make out a face. I noticed it without letting myself stare.

Then I grabbed the leash.

“Come on, girl.”

The park was quiet in that late-morning way—too late for the early crowd, too early for the afternoon walkers. A few of the regulars lingered near the entrance, people who had nowhere else to be. I gave a small nod to those we passed. None of them nodded back.

Sasha pulled ahead, eager now, her earlier tension replaced with purpose.

We didn’t stop until the trees closed in around us and the noise of the road faded into something distant and forgettable.

Once I thought we were alone, I unhooked the leash from Sasha’s harness. Only then did she circle once, twice, and slip off into the brush.

Privacy.

She always had more manners than most people I knew.

I turned away, giving her space, and stepped behind a tree of my own. The thermos of coffee had been a mistake I was now paying for in full.

The woods were still. Quiet in a way that should have been calming.

It wasn’t.

Footsteps broke through the silence.

Close.

Too close.

I turned, instinct already tightening my chest.

Two park rangers stood in the middle of the trail.

They weren’t coming from behind me.

They weren’t coming from ahead.

They were just… there.

“Sir,” the taller one said, her voice level and practiced. “Step away from the tree.”

I zipped up quickly, heat rising to my face.

“What’s going on?”

The shorter ranger took a step forward. He already had that look—the one that said he knew exactly who I was before I opened my mouth.

“We’ve had reports, Mr. Lewis,” he said. “A man exposing himself on the trail.”

“That’s not—” I stopped myself, forced my tone down. “I was taking a leak.”

The taller ranger lifted her phone.

The shutter clicked.

Loud. Final.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Documenting,” she said.

“Of what?”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she glanced at her partner. Something passed between them—silent, quick, rehearsed.

Then they both stepped closer.

Sasha emerged from the brush at that exact moment, her body shifting instantly from calm to alert. Her ears went back. Her stance lowered.

“Control your dog,” the shorter ranger said.

“You tell me what this is,” I shot back, clipping the leash back onto her harness.

“Public indecency,” he said. “Possible exposure.”

My stomach dropped.

“That’s insane.”

“Is it?” the taller ranger said, her expression not changing.

Another step forward.

Too close.

Sasha growled low, the sound vibrating up the leash into my hand.

“Back off,” I said.

“Sir,” the shorter ranger replied, calm as ever, “we can do this easy or—”

“What’s going on?”

The voice cut through the tension like a blade.

We all turned.

Sam jogged up the trail, slowing as she took in the scene. Her ponytail swung behind her, her breathing steady, like she’d been running for a while.

Sasha’s entire demeanor flipped. Tail wagging. Body loose.

“Hey, baby girl,” Sam said, crouching to scratch behind her ears.

Then she stood and faced the rangers.

“What’s the problem?”

“Your friend,” the taller ranger said, “has been reported exposing himself.”

Sam blinked once. Then again.

“You’re kidding.”

“He admitted it,” the shorter ranger added.

“I admitted to peeing,” I said.

Sam glanced at me, then back at them. “So did half the guys in this park.”

No one laughed.

“We’re going to need him to come with us,” the taller ranger said.

“No,” Sam said.

Simple. Immediate.

The rangers hesitated—just for a second—but I saw it.

Sam stepped forward, placing herself between us.

“How do you know his name?” she asked.

That landed.

Both of them stalled.

“Tip came in,” the shorter ranger said.

“From who?”

No answer.

Sam folded her arms. “Right.”

I watched them carefully now. The way they stood. The way they avoided certain answers.

“How much?” I said.

Sam shot me a look. “Bodhi—”

“How much did they pay you?” I pressed.

Silence.

That was answer enough.

After the trouble with my card at the repair shop, I’d stuffed more emergency cash into my wallet than I normally carried. I pulled it out now—a stack of hundreds—and held it toward them.

“This makes it go away,” I said.

The taller ranger hesitated. Her phone was still in her other hand, its camera pointed directly at the cash between us.

Then she took it.

Quick. Clean. Gone into her pocket.

“We’re done here,” she said.

“Not quite,” the shorter ranger added.

I stopped. “What?”

“You’re not allowed back here.”

I stared at him. “Since when?”

He shifted, just slightly. Looked at his partner.

Then back at me.

“We’ve been instructed to remove you from the property if you return.”

“Instructed by who?”

No answer.

“Remove how?” I asked.

Another pause.

“Force, if necessary.”

The words settled heavier than they should have.

I held his gaze.

Then nodded. “Understood.”

Sasha didn’t move.

Her body had gone rigid at my side, ears forward, low in her stance like she was deciding something. A quiet sound rumbled in her chest—too low to be a growl, but close enough.

I tightened my grip on the leash.

“No one wants to get tased,” I said under my breath.

Sasha’s eyes never left him.

I gave the leash a gentle tug. “Come on.”

She hesitated—just for a beat—then fell into step beside me, tension still coiled in her frame as we walked away.

They didn’t try to stop us.

They didn’t need to.

“Bodhi—wait.”

Sam caught up before we reached the parking lot. Her hand touched my arm.

I pulled away.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Like you don’t know.”

She stopped cold. “What does that mean?”

I turned on her. Really looked this time. Not at her—through her. Trying to see what I’d missed.

“You just happened to be out here?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Right when that happens?”

“I run here,” she said. “You know that.”

“No,” I said. “I don’t.”

Confusion flickered across her face. Then hurt.

“I’ve told you that.”

“No,” I said again. “You haven’t.”

She exhaled, frustration creeping in. “Bodhi, what is this about?”

“You’re being watched,” I said. “So am I.”

She blinked. “What?”

“And you show up right when they start pushing me out?”

“Who are they?”

I didn’t answer. My eyes moved past her.

The black sedan was still there.

Driver’s door open now.

A man in a suit stepping out.

My chest tightened.

“Bodhi,” Sam said, turning to follow my gaze. “What—”

The man walked straight toward us. Calm. Focused. Not even looking at me.

He stopped at Sam.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Sam blinked, thrown. “I—yeah. I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she said, firmer now. “It’s nothing.”

Nothing.

I let out a quiet laugh. “Who’s this?”

Sam hesitated.

That was all I needed.

“Sam.”

She sighed. “I called my dad.”

My stomach dropped. “Your dad.”

“I told him something was going on,” she said. “That people were—watching you. Following you.”

“And he sent him?” I asked.

The man didn’t react. Just stood there, steady.

“Yes.”

I looked between them. “Who’s your father?”

“We don’t need to get into that right now.”

“Yeah,” I said. “We do.”

“I said not right now.”

Silence stretched.

Then the man stepped forward. Just enough to put himself between us.

Deliberate.

His hand moved to his jacket. Pulled it open.

Not aggressive. Not fast. Just… clear.

The gun sat there in a shoulder holster like it belonged.

Message received.

I let out a breath. Nodded once.

“You know what?” I said. “I don’t need this.”

Sam’s expression shifted. “Bodhi—”

“It’s time for you to move out.”

“What?”

I jerked my head toward the guy. “You can get Mr. Muscles here to help.”

“Bodhi, stop—”

“I want you out by tonight.”

Her face went pale. “You don’t mean that.”

“Should be easy,” I said. “Jessica’s gone.”

She blinked. “Wait—what?”

“Or Luna,” I added. “Moon goddess, apparently.”

“Bodhi,” she said, stepping toward me. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s gone,” I said.

Sam’s voice dropped. “Jessica’s gone?”

“Yeah.”

“Bodhi, tell me what’s going on.”

She reached for my arm.

I pulled away.

“Don’t.”

Sasha shifted beside me, tension running through her as I pulled her toward the Jeep.

“Bodhi—”

“Just go.”

I stood there longer than I should have.

Then I climbed into the Jeep and started the engine.

As I pulled out of the lot, Jessica’s words returned.

You don’t even know what she is.

The words followed me.

I tightened my grip on the wheel.

No.

I didn’t.

And that was the problem.

I wasn’t chasing my wife anymore.

I was chasing something I didn’t understand.

And whatever it was—

It was already ahead of me.